Adventure, Citadel Celes

Walk-Through Adventure:

Introduction:

You each have a reason to be here, you each had a reason. You have found each other through dreams, through strange twists of fate, and through faith. You have wandered your own lives for years, and now you arrived together, experienced, equipped and in many cases empowered. Just as the mists of that evening are of foreign knowledge to you, so too are the reasons that you have come.

Section I: The Outer Wall

Upon first glimpse, the wall appears as a singular, vertical line etched against the vast horizon of the ocean. It rises from the sea's edge, a slender but formidable boundary ascending directly into the heavens, as if drawn by an unseen hand. This line, stark and unyielding, marks a division between the known and the unknown, carving a clear demarcation on the canvas of the world.

As you draw closer, this line transforms into an imposing structure, reminiscent of alabaster ramparts, their surface gleaming with an ethereal luminescence. These walls, grand and majestic, seem to belong more to the realm of fairy tales than reality. They stand as the guardians of a hidden kingdom, a paradise that lies beyond the reach of the ordinary, a place spoken of in hushed tones and dreamt of in wistful reveries.

These are the walls of Celes, a name that conjures images of celestial beauty and otherworldly grace. They rise with an elegance that belies their strength, each stone a testament to the artistry and ambition of those who built them. The walls’ presence is both awe-inspiring and enigmatic, evoking a sense of wonder and a yearning to discover the secrets they enclose.

Against the backdrop of the endless sea and sky, the walls of Celes stand as a junction between the earthly and the divine, a physical manifestation of the threshold between worlds. They are not just a barrier but a gateway, hinting at the marvels and mysteries that lie waiting beyond their towering facade. In their grandeur and mystery, these walls invite the imagination to soar, to envision what lies within the realm they so magnificently protect.

Section 2: The Seat of Powers and the Onyx Stairs

When you first see the monolith, it is in perfect focus. It had been visible, of course, long before you set down. But you had all chose to ignore it; to map it out of your perceptions, until you were much closer. It was only now that you allow those mental shields to collapse; forcing your imaginations to confront the fact of the monolith's existence.

Huge and silent, it daggers up into the sky. The peak stands alone, like a single stone tooth that had been thrust up from the center of the body of water, somewhere near the beginning of time. It isn’t part of a larger range; it doesn’t fit in with the surrounding mountain range, it is simply there defying all attempts to explain it.

The monolith looms: a daunting presence, at least half a dozen miles high, disappearing into the clouds, a huge rampart more formidable than the fortifications of any castle in the world. Rising dramatically from the sparkling inland sea, it is curiously like a totem, a site with mysterious religious significance. It soars, glass-smooth, gleaming, marred by neither major outcroppings nor indentations: vertical, harsh, forbidding.

Yet, despite the fact that you have moved along at a good pace through most of the afternoon, it is clear you are still a great distance from the glassy black column, the top of which is lost in a bank of clouds. At least, you presume the peak is hidden in the clouds. For all you know the rock simply goes straight up forever. Before coming here, you would have scoffed at such a statement. Now you simply look at the black mass and wonder.

It is six or seven miles on a side, and rises like a square pillar that bears the weight of heaven. Around it winds a gently inclined ramp, cut into the side, that bands the monolith like the leather strip wrapped around the handle of a whip. No; upon looking again, you see that there are two ramps, and they are intertwined. In running your gaze up the mountain, you see alternating bands until they can no longer be distinguished.

And still the monolith rises up and up, farther than the eye can see; you blink, and squint, and grow dizzy. You stumble backwards a couple steps, and turn away with a shudder. For a long moment, taking in the immensity of what stands before you - its vast size; its vast, brooding capacity for harm - the idea of trying to reach the summit feels uncomfortably close to insanity.

It is one thing to stand back and admire the mountain's majesty and contemplate the thrill of the ascent. It is another to actually climb it.

The Seat of Powers stands nine miles high, and is made of a solid piece of onyx, the largest piece of the mineral in the known universe. Fortunately for the heroes, a curtain of atmosphere surrounds the Seat at Caspian's behest. The climb, while lengthy, will not require breathers or pressure suits. Likewise temperatures will fairly remain constant.

Section 3: Stables

Section 4: The Outer Wall and Gates:

Shortly after you come to the end of the ruins, where you stare across the hundred yards of utterly black quartz to the place where the summit begins, and you see prisms rising up, towering overhead like a monstrously crested wave of an alien sea, straight edged against the comparatively unspectacular blue of the sky, appearing to ebb and to flow, shift and wash as water on a beach, but in reality are as stationary as stone.

Bright sunlight dances along the vertical edge of the wall, piquing you with what might have been seafoam but is actually as insubstantial as the air, a tangible and frothy glare.

Together you advance to the edge of the wall; together you stare upward at that vast vertical field of shining rainbow, smooth as stone, awestruck.

You stand before what appears to be a layered, kaleidoscopic wall, standing around six hundred feet skyward far above the buildings of the dead city, though from where you stand, you can't be certain. The wall appears to be comprised of evenly spaced 30 foot high layers or strata that form horizontal bands that continuously extend to the limits of the wall. Looking to either side, the prisms stretch on either side for miles, glittering until they fall away beyond the edges of the summit, a numbing extravaganza of explosive tint. It stretches on and on until its ends disappear in the gray mist of distance. From the base to about thirty feet overhead, the wall appears as a solid green (jasper), beyond that the wall is a sparkling, sky blue (sapphire), beyond that is an even brighter green (emerald), etc. The very top strata is bright, shining yellow (crystalline gold). There are a total of twenty of such layers.

It is just then that the sun decides to peak out from the clouds, and the entire wall explodes in dazzling bursts of color; riotous color, reds and blues and greens and yellows, burgundy and black, orange and crimson, amber, emerald, violet sienna, countless subtle shades both bright and pale, shimmering, writhing, moving as if they were alive, color so full of activity that it appeared to be sentient. The ruby glints, flares, and burns like a coal, the aquamarine glows a clear blue-white, the sapphire explodes into a dazzling cobalt fire, the emerald glows cool green, the diamond burns white hot and incandescent, the topaz pulses a dark reddish brown, the amethyst's deep purple. You are bedazzled as the enormity of what you are seeing.

You reach out to touch the wall. It feels almost alive. It seems to breathe, and you withdraw your hand.

These are gems. This entire wall is made of gems.

Impossible.

Obviously it isn’t possible; and yet here it is. Here it is.

The wall is high, high and mighty, but it is just a wall. Walls can be climbed, and gates opened.

For all its imposing height and length, you cannot imagine that this place would ever be required to defend itself.

The Outer Walls are 216 feet thick and stand six hundred feet high, which is more than twice the length of a football field.

Each layer is comprised of a solid gemstone material; a solid sapphire, a solid emerald, a solid amethyst, etc. Characters with the power of flight may attempt to fly over the wall, in which case they may activate the defenses of the Watchtowers (see below). If they see the wall from above, they will see the jagged forest of sharp crystalline spikes standing twice the height of a man (eight to fourteen foot tall conical formations, two to four feet (0.6 to 1.2 m) wide at the base, narrowing into a sharp point on the top, are set eight or ten feet apart on the top of the walls and are linked by a gauzy, almost invisible webbing that gives off a deep and sinister humming sound. This palisade of finials rise threateningly from the battlements (6D6 damage if impaled on them), and an occasional luminous pillar of glyph-lined flame or crackle of red lightning erupts from over the wall, their brilliance sufficient to bleach the color from the facades for a flickering time.

Greedy characters may also attempt to chip away at the wall. Jasper is the layer that the PCs are at, and is worth 6D6x100 gold a pound, but every ounce extracted increases the risk of the Watchtower's reacting by 5% (cumulative). There is also the matter of the two Psalmiter servitors, who can occasionally be heard singing the praises of Caspian. They will use their Call Down Fire from the Sky power if the attackers show hostile intent.

In the center of the wall is the main entrance; the Golden Gates.

While every structure you have seen before could almost pass for natural phenomenon, this is clearly a gate; one that was designed and constructed, though it matches the wall it had been set in.

The six-hundred foot gates are towering filigrees of sapphire and quartz-encrusted gold, curving and lopping like the notes of an overture among golden scroll-worked lining. Shafts of heavenly light shine through the sapphire glass between the gold stokes of the gates.

Likewise, greedy characters may attempt to file some gold and sapphire from the gate. Determine the value of the extracted gold/sapphire with the double the risk as removing from the wall.

Section 5: The Watch Towers:

You notice them for the first time. Protruding from the rim of the gemstone wall are several colossal structures, conical, almost like guard towers on a keep's walls, but each is more massive than any castle or fortress that you've seen.

Those eyes are constantly looking to and fro. Nothing escapes their notice.

From where the PCs are standing, not much detail can be seen, but the watch towers are semi-sapient, pagoda-like buildings set at even intervals around the Outer Walls. In their center is a massive ivory-lidded, lashless eye fifty feet in diameter. Built into the sides of each of them are ornamental statues. Each tower rises 650 feet above the wall and is 1,000 feet in diameter at its broadest point. Stairs and iron climbing pegs extend to one side.

Each of the Watchtowers contain hundreds of Servitors and human troops ordered to repel attackers, but fortunately the PCs are not attacking. They will remain hidden from view and observe the PCs, but make no move to contact or battle them. If the PCs make a play to fly over the wall, or attempt to damage it in any way, the Watch Towers respond by sending their beams of agony to sweep the area like searchlights. The beams keep intruders pinned down until a patrol of minions is sent out to surround the trespasser, and who then take them to the Citadel's prison for interrogation and punishment.

Section 6: Entrance:

When the gates open, you hear from high above in the blind whiteness, cold and thin in the distance, the sound of a brazen trumpet blowing a long blast: a note of triumph that quickly is followed by another blast, and another, and another. Each simultaneously chills your blood and exalts the heart, crying welcome with a kingly blast, each rises from the echo of the last until it seems that the whole world is filled with brazen harmonies.

The din of trumpets dies away for a moment, the echoes fading into silence, followed a low, sweet chiming sound from the Outer walls, as if they themselves are vibrating, the colors in the foundations brightening perceptibly.

And finally the gates open.

The two hundred and sixteen foot way to the courtyard is revealed.

As you walk past the threshold of the gate is a sheet of green glass or crystal (green jasper) that glows with a diffuse, rippling light. As you walk, the walls of the threshold sparkle like massive cliff faces. In the distance, about two hundred feet away, you see more green, but it is the green of verdant foliage, not more gemstone.

Section 10: The Outer Courtyard and Hedge Maze:

A single opening in the hedge forms a path that leads about ten feet before turning right.

Within the Outer Walls lays a vast and complicated hedge maze whose walls are comprised of mighty towering redwood trees and five-meter high hedges; all tightly and thickly grown and covered with lush green foliage, with marble sections reinforcing weak parts.

Except on occasions when Caspian desires guests to reach the Citadel with expediency, the hedge maze remains a maze. On those exceptional days, the hedges reconfigure themselves to form a single, straight path leading all the way to the gates of the Inner Walls. This is not one of those days, and the PCs will have to navigate miles of hedge maze to reach those gates.

Instead of drawing a map, simply roll on this table for encounters.

Step 1: The path extends 1D8 * 10 + 20 feet ahead (Min. 30, max 100).

End of this path: 1D8

1 - The path continues onwards in a straight line

2 - The path turns left

3 - The path turns right

4 - The path turns left and right

5 - The path turns right and continues forward

6 - The path turns left and continues forward

7 - The path turns left, right and continues forward

8 - Dead end.

Step 2: Upon choosing a direction at the end of the path, roll 1D20 and then repeat step 1.

1 - Nothing, the labyrinth extends further onwards.

2 - A dead end. There seems to be nothing of interest.

3 - A door - roll 1D20 for where it leads.

4- A lost NPC, (s)he's been wandering the labyrinth for far too long, (s)he disappears after the party lays its eyes off it.

5- Another dead end, something seems to be written on the wall.

6- Vines crawl up the walls and form a canopy, blocking almost all light. Worse, the vines seem to drink the light, leaving only shadows. If the party chooses to or is forced to fight here, they will have to do so in the dark. Suddenly, the tunnel opens up to a green square.

Inside, the light is so intense, they must shield their eyes. A shimmering landscape spreads out before them. Every color of flower sprouts up from the earth—lush yellow daisies, blooming hydrangeas, and exotic pink rosebuds—filling the air with the most intoxicating fragrance. And then there is the sound, an enchanting humming noise that swells in one's ears, making one want to dance.

7-8: The labyrinth forks (2 new paths, left and right, as well as the possibility to go back)

9-10: You come to a crossroad (3 new paths, as well as the ability to go back)

11- An assembly of stone gears works to unknown designs.

12- Hundreds of people sit, cross-legged, in concentric circles around a perfectly nondescript shrine. They breathe in perfect unison, and make no other motion.

13-A stone sphinx blocks the path. Unfortunately, its riddle is encoded, in some kind of cipher. They will either have to backtrack a long way, through terrain already stripped of everything useful, or decipher the code to progress. Killing the sphinx is also an option, but as it's around two hundred tons of mysteriously- but non-magically- animated stone, this will be nigh impossible at best.

14 You look around, taking in the dazzling scenery. Flowering vines wrap around the massive trees, covering them in lush purple blooms. Red and gold butterflies settle on their limbs. Rabbits bound through the tall grass, darting this way and that. All in front of you, tiny bulbs of pollen hang in the air. The glittering particles catch the light, making it look like even the air sparkles.

15. Suddenly a rectangular slab of shrubbery opens like a door and two gaily dressed people step through. They wear costumes of extravagant and fantastical design, slashed and flounced and ruffled, ablaze with gemmed rings, brooches, orders; ivory faces foamed at their wrists and throats and their faces are pained and rouged, their hairdos ornate, teases and sculpted to perfection. They give the PCs not the slightest attention. Instead they stroll languidly past as if they were invisible. Arm in arm, they saunter off into the maze. They have left the green door ajar. Peering in

16.

20 A large section of the Hedge Wall itself springs to life and attacks! Even worst this is no plant elemental or mindless servitor, this is an avatar of Caspian himself! The God-King has suddenly taken an interest in the PCs, either because he is bored, intrigued or for some reason views them as a threat. Roll on the reaction table (bonuses apply).

Caspian, Plant-Avatar: Aberrant Evil, I.Q. 50, M.E. 45, M.A: 33, P.S 42, P.P. 22, P.E: N/A, P.B N/A, Speed 52..S.D.C: 1,800. Hit Points: 3,600. P.P.E: 9,367,186. Armor Rating: 14. Horror Factor: 12, 15 if the PCs ever realize who they are fighting.

Special Attacks:

Entanglement (Special): The avatar can use its vines and branches to entangle and snare its opponents. An entanglement attack must be announced and counts as two attacks, but if the strike is successful, the character entangled in the branches and vines loses initiative (impossible to regain while entangled), loses half his melee attack, is -5 to strike, parry and dodge while entangled, and is -50% on skill performance. To get untangled, the character must have a P.S. of 14 or higher and spend an entire melee round and all of his melee actions/attacks pulling away from the avatar. This escape also means he automatically loses the initiative next melee. In the alternative, comrades can join the struggle to pull the character free. A combined P.S. of 24 will make this an easy task, but still takes about one melee round.

Tie-Up and Bind Opponents (Special): The avatar can also use its vines to snugly tie up and hold captured opponents, pinning their limbs and making attacks or melee actions impossible. The character will be held with 3D4 bonds, each with 3D4 S.D.C. The only way to escape is to have a P.S. of 24 or higher (in which case the captive can pull free the same as entanglement), or each vine/bond must be severed. The avatar will instantly know when the bonds are broken or when the captive slips free. Note: A character cannot be tied up unless he is first incapacitated or has been entangled for four or more melee rounds.

Whip Attack (Special): The Avatar can use one or more of its vines or branches to whip an opponent. A single vine or branch does 1D6 but as many as five can be used simultaneously like a Cat-O-Nine Tails and inflicts 5D6 damage +P.S. damage bonus.

Powers: In this form Caspian can only use Control Plant Life, Open Gate, Heal, Telekinetic Control, Shroud Of The Invisible, Empathy, Telepathy, See Aura, Reshape Matter, Alter Matter, Weather Control, or Domination.

Vulnerabilities: Takes double damage from fire attacks. It also lacks the healing factor of Caspian's main body. It doesn't heal wounds, and must expend attacks and P.P.E to heal itself should it desire to.

On a reaction of 0, the plant avatar doesn't speak, doesn't want to learn anything of them, but simply strikes to kill or imprison them. The PCs will have no recourse but to retreat from the Maze, get to the Inner Wall, or destroy the thing immediately. The Avatar will use every attack and ability that it has available to it, including using its weather control to call down lightning bolts, risking even setting the hedge maze on fire in order to destroy them. It will use its telekinesis to hurl the PCs into one another, or hold a PC in place while it uses its whip attack over and over until the PC has had the flesh flayed from their back. It will use its Domination power to command PCs to stand in place, go to sleep or even order the PCs to attack their allies. If the Avatar is defeated, it doesn't reform. Caspian merely quietly takes the time preparing defenses for when the PCs arrive. The GM should keep this in mind; the inhabitants of the Citadel are aware of the PCs and are preparing for them. When appropriate, have NPCs treat the PCs as hostile invaders, normally neutral guards or Servitors spring on the PCs and attack, gates and doors are barred when they should be opened, etc. Things just got a lot more difficult for the PCs in the days ahead of them. Should the PCs be defeated by the Avatar, any surviving PCs awaken in the Citadel's prison, awaiting an intimate torture and interrogation session. Slain PCs may or may not be resurrected.

On reaction roll 1-6, the plant avatar attacks, but doesn't want to kill the PCs or imprison them. Instead it wants to test their mettle and battles for 3D6 rounds before either retreating or letting the PCs destroy its body through fire. It mainly attacks with entanglement, rarely using its other abilities. While the battle is going on, it takes the opportunity to use Empathy, Telepathy, See Aura to scan the PCs, gleaning information on their thoughts, motives and beliefs. Any information it gains, Caspian may make use of later. Should the PCs be defeated by the Avatar, any surviving PCs awaken in the Citadel's prison, awaiting an intimate torture and interrogation session. Slain PCs may or may not be resurrected.

On a reaction roll of 7-9, the plant avatar teases the PCs, using the vines playfully to entangle them, and then attempts to frighten them away with boisterous exclamations and forms a head to speak. If attacked, the battle proceeds as the previous result but ends in 2D4 rounds instead. While the battle is going on, it takes the opportunity to use Empathy, Telepathy, See Aura to scan the PCs, gleaning information on their thoughts, motives and beliefs. Any information it gains, Caspian may make use of later. Should the PCs be defeated by the Avatar, any surviving PCs awaken in the Citadel's prison, awaiting an intimate torture and interrogation session. Slain PCs may or may not be resurrected.

On a reaction roll of 10-12, the avatar uses its invisibility to conceal itself, and plays small pranks on them as they journey. It may secretly steal a pouch or other item without the PCs knowing, and then place it elsewhere in the maze to make them think that they going in circles. It may use its weather manipulation ability to cause small rainclouds to follow the PCs, soaking them and their equipment. If the GM is feeling particularly sadistic, it may reshape the maze to extend the journey, turning the PCs around in circles, making their journey twice as long. If discovered and attacked, the avatar retreats back into the hedge.

On a reaction roll of 13--15, the avatar reveals itself, speaks to them ominously. It warns them of the dangers of the Maze, and provides cryptic directions that enable the PCs to shorten their journey through it by half. If attacked, the avatar retreats immediately, reforming the hedge wall. Caspian doesn't particularly care either way for these visitors.

On a reaction roll of 16-18, the avatar reveals itself, bids the PCs welcome to the Citadel. It reshapes the Hedge Maze so that the PCs may simply walk in a straight line to the Inner Wall. It also offers them a small boon to compensate them for the trouble reaching here. It may do either one of the following: Heal the most seriously wounded PC to full health, upgrade armor, weapon or damaged piece of equipment, or turn an otherwise useless item into gold with its alter matter ability.

On a reaction roll of 19 or better, the avatar reveals itself, bids the PCs welcome to the Citadel. It then uses its Alter Matter ability to turn an otherwise mundane or useless item to gold or platinum as a reward for getting this far. It also offers to Heal the PCs' wounds, as well as uses its Reshape Matter ability to sharpen, repair or upgrade any weapons or damaged equipment. Most importantly, it reshapes the Hedge maze so that the PCs may simply walk in a straight line to the Inner Wall.

Section 7: Fountains of Energy:

Each of the corners of the Outer Courtyard has a fountain of energy surrounded by a large, broad, calcified rim—bone-white and porcelain-smooth. Each is centered in the maze, 50 feet across, with 8 feet high stands. These are each the source of a tremendous column of light erupting hundreds of feet high from the center of their basins like monstrous acetylene torches, and rising with perfect straightness, like a great marble pillar, losing its upper end in the lofty atmosphere. The columns are half a mile in height, and have the sheen of polished stone. But it is not stone, but an upwelling of sheer energy. Motion is evident within its depths: huge sectors of it swirl, clash, tangle, and blend. Colors shift randomly, with red predominating, then blue, then green, then brown. Some areas of the column appear more dense in texture than others. Sparks often detach themselves and flutter off to perish. The column at its uncertain summit blends imperceptibly with the clouds, darkening and staining them. There is a constant hissing, crackling sound in the air, as of an electric discharge. Anyone or anything that touches it will be dissolved in an instant, the particles dancing forever in this column of light. As the pillars rise toward the sky high above, parts of each appear to writhe and entwine. On each side of them, strange symbols and ceaselessly coiling glyphs of uncertain meaning flicker in and out of view, twisting around and dripping red like living fire writing on an invisible surface, which float across the waters. These pillars burn magickally and resist any effort to manipulate them or put them out. Caspian created these and thus sustains them with his personal power, meaning they will last as long as he does.

Section 8: The Inner Wall and Moat:

You've reached the maze's end. You know this because the hedges have fallen away and four calm, terraced hillsides and straight lines of arborvitae trees, each of the trees never growing beyond a man’s height. The cobblestone path has lead you here, and you walk through the line, with two of the hills on either side of you.

As you walk closer, you notice that each of the hillsides have had their terraces hollowed out in places and filled with water, so that the whole hillside is a pattern of deep shadow and brilliant, silvered light, forming the silhouette of a face. It is the face of a beautiful young woman. You wonder who the woman is, only for your thoughts to be interrupted by the sight of the wall

Compared to the wall of gemstones before, this white barrier would appear almost modest. It is still formidable and large. From where you stand the walls extend about five miles on a side, and rear upwards almost one hundred feet. You expected the creator to use simple gray bricks, perhaps even concrete, seeing as how these walls appear more defensive in nature than ornamental. But no, these walls are possessed of a smooth, white glow. You think that they could almost be alabaster. The ramparts and edges are lined with a lustrous silver metal. As you look closely, you see that veins of a fiery reddish minerals have been worked through the alabaster.

The only thing separating you from the wall appears to be a narrow, gentle canal; a simple moat really. Standing on the edge, you look down and see that the current is strong. It is only a few hundred feet from the side that you are on to the sheer wall.

There is nothing of harm in the clean, clear water and anyone can easily swim across if they wish to avoid the main bridge.

A white bridge, a pale, lace-like thing of stone, spans the moat; the carving on its three, high-arched spans is as delicate as on a lady's ivory fan. It arches straight a dozen feet to the sheer walls. At intervals, guard towers, towers pale and perfect as an ivory chess set, interrupt the inner walls, their massive footing washed by the moat. On either side of the bridge are two taller gatetowers, standing over three hundred feet high. These appear to be clock-towers, albeit ones plated in gold, and stand like twin sentinels.

Two 320-feet high gold-plated clock towers, each built to resemble Prewar London’s Big Ben (albeit ones that have been converted to national defense), rear upwards on this inner wall that is 90 feet in height, 60 feet thick and three miles on each side, made of a smooth white alabaster substance, hard as any material known to man, self-cleaning and unflawed, that has been polished like jewelry, edged with platinum and shot through with fiery veins of reddish mineral. There are six Paladins keeping watch in the towers. Normally, they would ask the business of visitors, but today they remain silent. Roosting at the very top of the clock towers are two Seraphim servitors. There are no entrances to any of the towers from below, since both the Seraphim and the Paladins have the gift of flight, they enter the tower through openings in the top.

Like before, these guards will only engage the PCs if they show hostile intent, defile or desecrate the wall or its surroundings. If the characters insist on calling attention to themselves, roll on reaction table under authorities.

On a disastrous roll of 0, the Paladins fly down to engage the PCs with weapons drawn. There will be one Paladin for every PC. They will attempt to slay or incapacitate the PCs. Should they defeat these foes, the portcullis closes, and the PCs have to break in, but only after they have defeated the menacing Honor Guard servitor riding atop a Morc mount that rises up out of nowhere to bar their way. Once the PCs have made it past the portcullis, and its defenses read the following.

You stare down at the water below as you cross, and see four gleaming alabaster statues of reclining women emerging from the water of the moat on arching pedestals of gleaming gold.

When you've crossed the bridge, you come to the wall's entrance. In contrast to the white and gold, the entrance is a narrow archway with raised black iron portcullis with metal thorns worked into the design. What strikes you is how low the archway is to the ground. It is easily fifteen feet long, but only about three feet high. You would have to stoop or crawl under it. If you want to get through.

Those whom enter by crawling underneath it find that they have bowed to the massive monument of Caspian in the Plaza. By this design, no attack can possibly be launched from such a position of forced supplication.

Section 9: The Inner Courtyard:

The zigzagging path has turned to white veined, marble rectangular slabs laid like giant flagstones that surround a series of square, shallow basins where lilies and bright water flowers flourish in pebbly sinks fed by some spring or other water source.

On either side are huge fountains which spray water high into the air, patches of overgrown ivy and torches with shafts carved with tiny symbols. The air smells damp, and one can hear the clack of amphibians and the hiss of evening flies. Water flowers, their fragile colors almost lost in the closing darkness, drift on the still water either side of the path. At odd times a clap of thunder without rain is heard overhead.

This area is an ocean of freedom after the seemingly infinite walls of the hedge maze. It appears to be an immense park or garden, miles of manicured elegance. Bent green grass meets your gaze, and if you touch it, seems as soft as a carpet. Small trimmed bushes, vineyards, arbors, and perfectly tended ivy add more green to the setting, and rising from the grass are free-standing columns, pavilions, grottos, golden tile-edged pools, statutes of white marble flecked with gold. Occasionally the structures form column-lined porticos, while frail ferns and weeping trees edge the pools.

The trees and objects are well-spaced, and the PCs stroll between them, regarding some more closely, then moving on. Scattered here and there are little ponds and tams. It seems to like a great sculpture garden or workshop, in which some mighty artist has left scattered a thousand trials at a single idea, all beautiful, altogether forming a park of surreal majesty.

Twenty-four fountains keep the air cool and moist, even muggy. Each of these fountains continuously spray water in different patterns, sending forth a series of harmonic notes, with musical tones emitting with a combination of smaller jets to play various classical musical symphonies. To one side is a large grove of various trees dripping with fruit and flowers, amongst blossom-laden urns and ivory statues.

There is not a branch askew, not a limb out of proportion. Even if a one hundred thousand people had served as gardeners, they could not have achieved such perfection with round-the-clock toil. This has been accomplished by a program of experiments in controlled breeding, these plants are self-shaping, self-pruning, unendingly monitoring themselves from symmetry of form. The plants, shrubs, and trees need no touch of a gardener to maintain their sculpted forms. The plants intended for the garden achieve a perfect symmetry as they grow, and when they reach a size that is appropriate in relationship to the plants about them, they hold that size ever after. Superfluous leaves and even whole unnecessary boughs drop away automatically, and quickly crumble into a compost that enhances the fertility of the lava soil. Enzymes in their roots suppress the growth of weeds. Every plant bears flowers, but the seeds that those flower produce are sterile; only when a plant reaches the natural end of its life-cycle does it bring forth fertile ones, so that it can replace itself with another that soon will have the same size and form.

Section 10: The Citadel Itself

You are still three miles from the thing's base, and yet the side of the tower seems to be leaning back over you, constantly on the point of falling and crushing you. The effect is exacerbated by the occasional high-altitude cloud that passes overhead, writhing in fast, thin jet streams. The whole tower looks as if it were toppling.

Then a small, rational voice reminds you that this is exactly the effect the spire's builder would have sought. Knowing that, it is fractionally easier to take the next step closer to the base.

Now at last you see the tower as a whole from below. You gasp in delight at its beauty and boldness.

If the Citadel were a feat of natural wonder, you would be filled with awe, but this all was built as a residence. As such it surpasses the grandeur of any palace of any king. The base appears square, three miles or more on a side, and then its immensity simply extends ever upward. You cannot even see the top. It is too vast to exist in the physical world—gravity denies it—but here is an awesome reality. Nothing mortal could have created such a palace.

Unlike Brueghel's stout tower, the Citadel Celes is what one would call a folly: it would never have stood for long. Too slender for its height, it flouts the laws of stability.

The Citadel Celes is a unique structure filled with many strange oddities and magical effects. It is also an extremely dangerous location and GMs should read about all areas within the fortress carefully. 

PCs' actions will also have an influence on what happens in the palace and GMs will need to keep track of any changes that occur.

Section 11: The Reflecting Pool and Plaza

It is a startling sight, the entrance appearing to be a impossible fortified settlement all by itself. You have to remind yourself that the massive pillared entrance stretching up at least eight hundred feet is merely a gatehouse. Behind it is the unbelievably immense building that stretches in every direction, farther than the eye can see.

Before you is a reflecting pool, filling the expanse of the inner courtyard, reflecting the image of the Citadel above completely.

There is a golden road in the dark waters of the pool, with many zigzags, and glowing brightly, like a flash of lightning. It creeps towards you and seems to extinguish itself at your feet.

You cross the road on foot. With every step you take in the Citadel expanding ahead of you, coming into greater clarity. It is truly immense and resembles no other structure you have ever seen, except in pictures. Higher and higher the vast construction rises until it disappears into the clouds - a solid wall against the sky. 

You wonder once again why an all-powerful god should feel the need to protect his domicile with such large and elaborate defenses.

Beyond the pool, five massive, gold-plated ramps converge, two lined up horizontally to the pool's edge, two at 45-degree to the other two, connecting with the Inner Wall beneath the defense spires. The central ramp leads up to the plaza, and the mountainous, six hundred foot high double gates.

The gates are a perfect network of radial spokes and concentric circles whose precise engineering calls to mind the deadly symmetry of a spider’s web, albeit one of made of etched golden-gilt, engraved with the flourishes of a thousand arabesques, holding delicate carved onyx, sapphire and diamond star-points. The airy golden webwork is set within the largest archway in the world, six hundred feet high and two hundred feet wide. The five ramps radiate around the entrance like the stokes of a half-wheel, with the plaza statue erected near where they intersect. The crescent moon is prominent on either side. Vast pilasters frame the yawning gateway inscribed with millions of lines of scripture from the Lathra in all languages of mankind. Above the colossal entrance are dozens of windows sparkling with complicated patterns of white and gold, a massive, stadium-size video screen which can be seen miles away, and a balcony lined with gold and silver pillars where Caspian can review his marching Servitors, and makes public appearances to a crowd in the plaza assembled below.

Things to see in the Plaza:

The Reflecting Pool: A still, shallow, liner reflecting pool, a mile wide, and a third of a mile long that extends from one side of the Inner Wall to the other, is situated between the majority of the Inner Courtyard and the Plaza, with a zigzagging path of reflective, burnished gold built across the waters edged with obsidian. The path is lined with graceful, potted cypress trees, each of the trees has a miniature rain cloud hovering over it. Gentle fountains within the pool continuously spray plumes of tinted water, slender as spears and ever-changing in color to an enormous height in the air. The waters of the pool act as a lens magnifying shards of reflective stainless steel at the bottom of the pool; memories of violence now smoothed over by waters of time. In ceremonial occasions, the reflecting pool has been allowed to freeze and ten thousand skaters glided in unison to the music of an orchestra of at least half their number.

The Ramps:

The Marching Servitors: A procession of servitors march up and down the plaza before the statue as if it were a parade ground. They consist of one Honor Guard riding atop a Morc, six Gazers, 20 Black Knights, 60 Psalmiters, 40 Pharons, 8 Infernals with 12 Molochs in orbit around each. The Psalmiters chant day and night, while the others remain silent and carry elaborate, silver-poled banners and flags, the crescent moon blazoned on the sprawl of their vast scarlet surfaces.

Concert Halls: Between the nine-foot wide ramps are four, bowl-shaped Roman-style amphitheaters large enough to seat four or five thousand people, entirely carved out of stone. Every precious stone, from diamonds to emeralds to sapphires to rubies, has gone into the building materials so that each amphitheater glistens like it were ablaze—only with cold fire. These are used as audience seating and orchestra pits. Traditionally, when Caspian descends to address the crowd, the band strikes up a hymn in his honor.

The Statue:

You make the crossing. Ahead of you, the statue is a constant presence. It is is so very large, its black stone wings spread wide in a menacing fashion that it seems an eternal threat, its cruel shadow seems to pin you like an insect. From the amount of smoke issuing from its mouths, you wonder if it is hollow, containing a furnace that could burn entire forests and send flames roaring up its throats and out its mouth so far above. The dragon statue belches flames and smoke that rises to become billowing clouds of red and violet. It is so terrifying because of its beautifully rendered and elegant surface.

A three-hundred foot statue of a three-headed dragon is perched on a massive cube of black labradorite, unadorned save for a sun-face emblazoned on the front side. It juts upwards from the center of the plaza, directly in front of the gigantic webbing of the main entrance and rising above the linear reflecting pool, perpetually breathing dark smoke and reported to speak and move on occasion. Riding atop the dragon is a massive blackened bronze statue of Caspian, standing boldly with wings, his fist is raised in victory while grasping the reins of power, his other hand rests upon a scepter. 

The sun-face is a circular pattern resembling nothing more than a circle of somewhat serpentine sun-rays framing a stylized representation of the sun that seems to frown upon those beneath it. Each corner of the altar is flanked by a fierce cherub, the tips of their wings coming together to form a single horn on all four corners. Most of the stone edifice appeared to have been blackened by intense flames. Each of the cherubs hold up polished platinum braziers that eternally burn away at each of the cube’s corners.

The cube is an eternal flame, within which is kept burning perpetually. Vents in the statue produce the impressive waves of heat and puffs of fire.

Optional Encounter:

Prisoners are sometimes chained to the sizzling statue as a means of torture. At any given time there are usually 5D4 singed corpses and 1D4+1 dying victims slowly simmering on the blackened, burning statue bound by burning-hot chains. More fortunate victims are chained to the metal of the metal statue, since metal is a far better conductor of heat, the victims quickly burns up and perishes within minutes, losing consciousness long before then. Their agony, while horrible, is very brief. Less fortunate ones are chained to the dragon, which is made of basalt and granite, both stone with a relatively low thermal conduction rate so victims will slowly simmer in agony over a much longer period of time. The miniature rain clouds in the plaza are 'programmed' to occasionally do a flyover and hydrate the parched lips of the prisoners, keeping them alive longer than they normally would and thus also prolonging their torment.

Many of the victims that are still alive are Celestials, and therefore have the regeneration advantage and so their agony can be prolonged for days or even weeks.

The wind changes and the stench of dead flesh wafts over you.

Chained to the statue, and concealed from view until now by the viewing stand and altar and thick smoke, is a roasting man. His exposed skin is blackened and blistered, and his screams of agony are intense. His wide, smoke-blinded eyes seem to focus on you.

Your stomach turns slightly and your expression falls. All the initial wonder and glory of the Citadel, all the magnificence of the palace and its wonders are wiped out by this single gruesome sight. Such sacrifices and cruelties are not unusual in your world, but they are certainly new to you personally. To see them here in this sacred place chills you to the core.

Then your gaze sees the others, men and women, all chained and hanging from the limbs, chest and neck of the enormous statue. Most are limp, either dead or unconsciousness from the smoke and heat, all of their skins are blistered, their hair smoked or burned away. They are dressed in ruined armor and tattered rags that were once fine robes. Some wear boards nailed to their ribs that proclaim their crime. Only one transgression merits such punishment: blasphemy. Here and there are charred skeletons dangling from the three necks of the massive dragon-statue. From the few who are still conscious, you listen to the screams. You watch, horrified, and cringed at the stench of burning flesh, crisping hair, and boiling fat.

If they watch several moments more, the man tied in the middle of the blaze is no longer human.  A tall cleric emerges and recites a last litany over the remains of the most recent executed.

If asked, any of one of the Servitors or locals will say (without expression) that the victims violated Caspian's laws. Any attempt to remove bodies or help those who are not yet dead, causes the marching Servitors to attack and apprehend the offenders. The Cleric is a high-level one, and will lead the charge, calling for the PCs to surrender.

The Podium: There is a huge, ornately carved rock podium situated directly before the statue. Chest-high, it sparkles even in the diffused light of the courtyard, and its dozens of raised pictographs seem to move as the PCs gaze upon it. Their images depict an odd, artistically melded fusion of forests, waters, warriors, great beasts, and elegantly winger creatures, all beneath a sweeping spread of stars. Two carved footprint-like depressions, side-by-side and only a couple of inches apart, that look almost as if someone has stood with bare feet in wet cement. On top of this, situated in a form-fitting recess, is a massive copy of the Lathra chained. Nearly two feet high and weighing fifty-seven pounds, the Lathra is entirely covered with an emerald enamel and a spun-gold filigree web enmeshes the book, further adorned with rubies, giant sapphires and four solitaires of golden topaz embedded into the frame. If the PCs think of stealing it, they must be aware that it is attached to the podium by a strong linked chain of gold.

The Sphinxes: Sitting upon twin monolithic plinths or platforms fashioned from gigantic slabs of gleaming and speckled blue stone, raised 600 feet high on both sides of the main entrance, and motionless before the glare of the pillars of fire are two alabaster statues with the forepaws of lions, hindquarters of oxen, with wings of an eagle with Caspian’s face. These pristine, overpoweringly enigmatic icons are towering and flawless. Each wears a metal crown whose jeweled lace-worked prongs are so huge they more resemble glittering cathedral towers than simple adornments. It is difficult to tell whether the faces of the sphinxes are smiling, or expressing deep grief or indifference or abysmal wickedness. The sides of their plinths are covered in chiseled bas-reliefs and delicate frescoes, and truncated with rings of platinum around their tops and fronts; each flange is lined with baroque faces possessed of howling expressions. A concealed stairwell leads up to each these sphinxes from the main hallway, eventually running up to the back of them.

The Geometries: Lining this side of the Citadel are dozens of large, hard-edged geometric shapes - crystal cubes, cones, monoliths, spheres, rectangles, and cylinders, each seemingly constructed from a different colored glass-like material. 

The Destroids: Closer to the Citadel float 300 Destroids.

The Screen: In the center of the Citadel, on its second floor that is six hundred feet up, is a sizable pane of crystal that acts as a gargantuan, stadium-size screen, 60 feet high, and nearly half a mile long. The entire plaza below can see it. The propaganda screen is capable of creating true grotesqueries of scale. The screen flitters as images cross it and words fight their way down through the roar and crack of nearby infernos and the far-off thunder.

Defenses:

Charging the Citadel with obvious hostile intent may cause either the statue or the sphinxes to fire upon them.

The statue can fire energy bolts from its eyes or heads, each bolt inflicts 2D4x10 damage and has a range of 2000 feet and opponents must roll a 17 or over to dodge.

From the sphinxes eyes issue forth lances of energy, which inflict 2D4x10 damage once per minute (unless a dodge of 17 or better is rolled) at uninvited guests up to 200 feet away.

In the darkest reaches, shadowed by the darkness of the Sphinxes, stand two Archons, their city-killing weapons trained upon the steps leading towards the great entrance they guard. They do not move or acknowledge the heroes unless the heroes try to attack the Citadel or the heroes attack them first. They do not attempt to prevent the heroes from entering the Citadel, nor do they prevent the party from penetrating deeper into the palace. However, they do defend themselves until they or those who dare threaten any of them are destroyed.

Main Entrance:

At first there is only the sensation of immensity; the emerald walls soar straight up into the remoteness and are lost overhead in clinging, shadows. The enormous portal engulfs you as you enter.

One hundred Knacks stand guard lining the walls and another Apollyons hang from the ceiling.

Lobby:

To describe the interior of the Citadel in the detail it deserves is impossible, but you are struck by the vastness of it, the high ceilings. For the next few moments you stand in silence, still in a state of suspended belief, doing nothing but gaping wide-eyed and open-mouthed in total wonderment at the elegant decadence around you. You had never appreciated the power of the God-King before. It is not just the size of the room, and its obviously priceless furnishings that astounds you, but also its accouterments.

You find yourself in space whose magnificence would shame that of any king, khan or potentate. If the architect's intent was to awe and impressive, he certainly accomplished it.

Caspian has studied the world's great palaces, incorporating the more successful ideas from Versailles, the White House, Buckingham Palace, and the Vatican in creating the first chamber of his palace. In here, the singing voices are louder, not simply a chorus but a great choir. Mighty walls of pearl-colored strata rise six hundred feet, inscribed with gilded friezes of cosmic battles. The ceiling and upper walls are an Escherlike labyrinth of warped perspectives, staircases, arcades, towers and intersecting planes of gravity sculpted with human faces and highly complex geometric structures, their lines dramatically emphasized by dazzling rows of lights that give an impression of walkways that extend forever in all directions, as if the levels above this one were a hopeless maze. The walls everywhere sport hundreds upon hundreds of arched niches, each holding a white marble sculpture, ranging from terrifying, gargoyle-like carvings, to towering, two-hundred-foot-tall, marble-hewn warrior figures that support the ramps and walkways above. The six hundred foot ceiling is largely obscured by eight monumental columns, two of smooth limestone, two of red Jura, two of rose granite, and two of marble. These distinctly colored pillars are sculpted to resemble the stems of flowers, each pillar blossoming when it meets the ceiling, the giant petals folding outward, so that the ceiling seems like a huge flowerbed, the interplay colors delightful to the eye.

Features of the Lobby:

The Registry of Visitors:  Dominating this vast space are two imposing walls constructed from black terrazzo, inlaid with intricate chips of marble and quartz that glint subtly under the ambient light. These walls, stretching a magnificent quarter of a mile towards the front desk, serve as the foundation for an expansive library. The top of each wall culminates precisely at the middle step of the desk’s three-sided staircase, a deliberate design choice that adds to the symmetry and elegance of the space. Flanking the walls, separate sets of steps descend gracefully, their angles designed to complement the overall aesthetic of the room. These staircases are lined with banisters, leading down to the tile flooring on each side of the entranceway, offering a harmonious transition from the elevated walkways atop the walls to the main floor of the registry. Above, the structure is crowned by an ark-like roof, an awe-inspiring framework of A-shaped gold frames connected by elegant black panels. On the inner sides of the walkways, circular symbols representing each of the twenty kingdoms of the Imperium are carved with exquisite craftsmanship into the facades of each golden frame. These emblems serve as a reminder of the unity and diversity of the realms under the Imperium's dominion, each symbol a story of a kingdom's heritage and pride. The walls themselves are fashioned into a multitude of shelves, creating an extensive repository that houses a vast collection of slim, leather-bound books. Each volume, identical in appearance, sits in meticulous alignment, row upon row, creating a visually stunning pattern of uniformity and order. The books, with their rich leather covers, exude an aura of history and importance, inviting visitors to peruse the records of those who have traversed these halls before them.

Waiting Rooms: Another set of doors, eight of them, this time ones of glass; each is 10 feet high and as wide as a room. These lead to the Lobby's waiting rooms. Each is a large space full of low lighting, spotlighted sculpture, trickling water and clusters of well-cushioned seats. These eight rooms are lined with overstuffed sofas and high-backed benches rings the circular hall, glittering white and set with red brocade cushions. The floor is covered with exquisitely carved marble tiles of green. Enormous, 96-inch, plasma television screens are set into the walls to present broadcasts. Banners hung between fluted pilasters of green marble. Four fifteen-foot chandeliers hang from the ceiling, each carved from a single crystal and weigh several tons. Minor art treasures are on display in clear glass cases set atop thorny pedestals. From the white, acoustic tiled walls protrude a dozen life-sized human hands made of gold, offering to receive hats and coats. In the center of the room is a large, sparkling, crystalline fountain with a statue of Caspian in its center with water spraying continuously in different patterns, sending forth a series of harmonic notes, with musical tones emitting with a combination of smaller jets to play various classical musical symphonies. The intricate, geometric designs of the ceiling center around a central icon: a halo of gold with rays so short and square that they look like crenelations on a castle wall. In the center is a C-shaped, crescent moon, picked out in loving detail with strands of platinum wire and swirls of crushed diamond. In each room is a silver pedestal that holds a fused, lamp-like container from which bright light steams. Citizens who wish to plead cases to Caspian or visitors of palace staff wait in one of these rooms first. The wait can range from minutes to hours to days, so drinking water is provided, but no food.

Entry Hall Gates: Set high in the ceiling are wide, arch-shaped Gates, like cave-mouths in a mountain’s sprawling cliffs. Marble-style fittings and tall pillars line the mouths of the arches, with armor-clad Servitors standing guard in the wide expanses between each pillar. These Gates, magically connected to other parts of the Citadel as well as selected other locations around the God-King’s domain, can be used to disgorge various obstacles for intruders such as:

1. Armies of fanatical human minions. These are not lambs, but evil-aligned fighters whipped into a berserk frenzy. At the beginning of combat, 20 warriors will enter the entry hall to engage intruders. Each round five more cross through unless their bridgehead is contained. They fight to the death to slay or repel invaders of their master’s palace. They will ignore the Honor Guards and the Manservant, intent only on the intruders. The only problem with fighting these berserkers is that Caspian seems to have an endless supply of them. Intruders' efforts to battle them are ultimately futile until the Gateways can be closed somehow, either by casting spells that permanently close them, physically blocking the gateway, or damage the archways in which the gates are set in.

2. Delivery from the God-King’s Storehouse of Hail:

3. Suction:

4. Flood:

Entryway Guards: 24 Honor Guards form two lines of tribute on the sides of the central pathway, facing one another silently, filling the space between the registry and the welcome desk and also leaving a wide path between them leading to the security screen archway. They stand in perfect, deadly stillness. A black-scaled pole is clutched in each of their right hands, with a gold, serpentine standard of the various symbols of the Imperium, framed in a platinum victor’s wreath positioned on top. Designed to resemble Roman centurions, they exist solely to serve and interact with visitors in any way necessary — from offering directions, to politely admonishing misbehavior, to stern warnings, to restraining (or even injuring or killing) wrongdoers.

There are also several dozen Black Knights and Joylights hovering in alcoves or standing on the higher walls and other surfaces, but their main purpose is to protect the Gates from anyone attempting to enter, block or close them, and they will not engage intruders unless the Honor Guards fall.

The Welcome Desk: At the end of the room is a huge sharp-angled front desk of burnished bronze, set within a raised rostrum, surrounded by an inverted crescent-shaped control panel, adorned with Corinthian columns to either side. All are carved and polished to a rich sheen.

Here a Manservant is always on duty. He asks the visitors’ name, purpose of visit, and whether they have an appointment or a satisfactory story. If unacceptable the person is captured, thrown out or killed, depending on the visitor and the whims of his superior.

The desk contains:

• • An open, leather-bound guest book, resembling a large ledger, identical to all the others filling the black marble bookshelves, with a pen ready to take the visitor’s name, time and date, and purpose of visit.  Each page has a total of five columns. The three list statistical information: name, time and date, and purpose. The last two columns contains information of interest.

  • A Complexity 3 personal computer terminal with platinum keyboard, multi-channel phone, and laser copier-printer. To ensure document security, a small paper-shredder is built into the lower drawer, able to shred one page per second. If intruders attempt to access the computer terminal, they will quickly find that it merely has white security level access. Its database just contains a complete list of previous visitors to the Citadel, while the list may of interest, it is useless if they say wanted to get say the complete schematics of the Citadel. The Manservant has been a lifelong resident of the Citadel, and so doesn't need a map. There is also a instant messaging style program for communication with the Manservant's superiors as well as the guard stations on this floor. If need be, the Manservant can use this method to alert the servitors located at the guard stations to help him defend the Citadel from attack.

  • One spring-loaded drawer opened by a hidden foot pedal near the base of the desk; no one standing on the other side of the desk can see it open, and it often conceals a small weapon.

  • The C-shape of the desk means that, if property positioned, the user has good protection on three sides with a wall behind them. If that isn't enough, a keyboard or voice command causes a bulletproof, one-way crystal shield (30 S.D.C), three feet high, to slide up from a hidden recess in the desk, providing cover from a frontal attack.

  • The desk normally uses the Citadel's power, but its energy cell can power everything for up to 24 hours in the event of power failure.

  • The desk is also securely mounted to the floor to prevent it from being moved by an explosion and crush the owner.

Most of these features are concealed and arise on voice command.

The Manservant is a normal human servant, albeit one trained in the use of small firearms. As a lifelong resident of the Citadel, the Manservant has memorized the layout of every level between the first and the the thirty-seventh floor. He will not divulge this information if he is threatened or captured, though he may answer specific questions about the level if the PCs seem like friendly visitors or pilgrims. He has also been given magi-tech implants that effectively make him a "nega psychic,"rendering him effectively immune to psychic interrogation or attempts to read his mind. He is 100% loyal and will not betray his master(s) or position for any reason. He cannot be bribed, threatened or seduced. If the room comes under attack, the Manservant takes up the small weapon in the desk and uses the desk for protection, while using the communication apparatus to summon help. He cannot direct orders to the Honor Guards, but they will fight on his behalf and use their bodies to shield him from attack when possible. He will die protecting the Citadel from intruders if need be, though he will not become blatantly suicidal (Caspian trains his servants to live for him, not die for him without cause), for example If the PCs suspect him of having a cyanide capsule or something similar, he doesn't. If captured and brought along he will be extremely obstinate, constantly telling the PCs that they are consigning themselves to the worst fate they can possibly imagine by their actions and should surrender immediately before they make things worse for themselves. He won't lie to them or attempt to deceive, but he also won't say anything that will help intruders. He will also constantly attempt to escape and/or contact any guard stations the party encounters as well as alert other Citadel personnel to his plight.

Security Screen: At the center of the space between the two roof-covered shelves is a grand arch surpassing the largest of the great archways of Europe in size shaped like the tori of a Shinto shrine, two pillars of green marble supporting a curve of lighter jade with a mortise and tenon joint, all decorated with runes. Set in the archway’s lintel is a huge ruby "eye"gleaming in the center; Caspian can see through the eye with a thought and is instantly aware of any who enter. A huge pane of blue crystal fills the space between the archway’s intricately carved borders, and there is no apparent way past it. Those touching the crystal pane will pass through a vaporous surface. Harmless enough, but it does limit vision. Passing through they find themselves between the welcome desk and the Gateway to God-King Touching the pane activates the magick, allowing the visitor to pass through. When the residents of the Citadel feel that the upper floors are to be closed down, they set the archway on defense mode. When an intruder comes under the archway, crackling bolts of green light infuse its center. When they strike (the person is given a dodge roll of 17 or higher) the person becomes paralyzed with agony (-8 on all actions and -40% on all skills, no initiative and can perhaps crawl one foot per minute) and assaulted with horrific images flashing before their eyes. The bolts remain there, pinning the intruder to the ground, until Caspian shuts it off with a thought. The effects last for 6D6 minutes after the person is removed, minus one minute for every save vs magic bonus the victim possesses. Destroying the eye neutralizes the agony beams.

Notes On Scale and Mood:

During this adventure the PCs will be proceeding deeply into the Citadel Celes, a structure where each level is the size of township, and whose apex is at the edge of space. They will walk through corridors as wide as highways, through thirty-foot-high doors into vast monumental halls. Architecture that exists for no purpose except to assuage its creators' inferiority complex -- exercises in meaningless architectural self-aggrandizement.

One quality of the Citadel's inhabitants is a casual indifference to the wealth that it presents.

Notes on Security in the Citadel:

However, it should become apparent that a place as important as the center of all power and authority is not as securely defended as it could be. In fact the further one travels up the palatial tower, the less overt the security seems. Indeed, the less populated and more deserted it appears. Intruders should not take courage from this apparent lack. The upper levels are only deserted because its residents value their privacy and solitude. Also these residents include such powerful beings as the Queens, Vandaliers, and Caspian himself. Should they find an intruder, they may be overjoyed at the opportunity to inflict some new hideous torture on them.

Of course, if they are expecting an invasion of the Citadel, Caspian re-organizes his fortress with lots of traps and other defenses to repel intruders.

Patrols:

As one would assume in the case of any royal residence, every floor of the Citadel is constantly patrolled and guarded by a veritable army of minions. At regular intervals, a squad of Black Knight servitors can be seen tromping down a corridor. A platoon of Paladins may be conducting a training patrol up a hallway or occupying a plaza.

The Security Stations:

Surveillance:

The ruling deities of Celes are particularly fond of implanting security monitors, listening devices, and defense mechanisms in the walls and statues found in the Celestial cities. The old saying that the “walls have eyes and ears” is every bit true of most Celestial architecture. Interestingly, this scrutiny is unknown to most of the inhabitants. Consequently, there is a false sense of freedom and openness among the general population. Unlike a true fascist state, the people feel “free” to go about their daily business without being watched. All think of Caspian as the Most High God-King and assume that he has powers of omniscience that enable him to learn any secret. All palace security and communications are monitored here, as well as the bugging and anti-bugging devices. Everything in the Citadel below this level is bugged, of course, as well as under video surveillance, all hidden in various nooks and crannies and the mileage recorded onto miniature disks embedded in the central processing unit of the computer that controls the Citadel’s electronic functions. All footage is categorized by date, time and location. It does not matter, there is never enough staff and time to review the disks—miles and miles of disks, spread over townships of watched over territory, the staff simply don't have the manpower to watch each and every camera or every one of the Citadel’s residents. Each disk is slightly smaller than an inch in diameter, and due to super-compression digital technology, can hold a decade’s worth of spoken conversation if recorded twenty-four hours a day. Sophisticated computers that employ artificial intelligence watch about 90% of the monitors and alert security if a noteworthy disturbance or problem is detected

Gateway to God-King

A more brilliant light ahead draws a visitor’s gaze, and they look up at the huge hall's central feature, a mile or two distant, at the center of the enormous floor: the Gateway to God-King. It is an immense towering staircase platform leading nearly halfway up the Citadel. An vast oculus-like opening has been cut into this chamber’s ceiling, and the Gateway tower leads right up through it to the levels above and beyond. It was as if someone had excavated a gigantic borehole in the middle of the ceiling and then planted the towering edifice in the center of the yawning aperture. The Gateway appears to be 'anchored’ to the sides of the gigantic opening by four green walkways like the huge spokes of a wheel. Swarming like fireflies at and above the walkways are dozens of tiny blinking lights of red and white (Joy Lights), swooping into graceful paths. If not for their motion, they would have been utterly lost in the dense celestial display overhead. Their size is impossible to determine without a readily identifiable sense of scale.

Should the PCs approach or attract the attention of the Joy Lights, read the following:

Holographic and brilliantly colored, glistening like an odd combination of gelatin and the aurora borealis, the small, glistening, random forms writhe and dance in time to the ethereal music as they orbit the central platform. Organic in character, the shapes strike you as being alive.

Tightly-fitted flagstones of polished marble, exquisitely tinted in many colors, lead to this 10,080-foot tower of onyx from the Pedestal, seemingly grown out of the floor is built directly in the center of the palace, as if this whole rumbling Citadel had been built around this stairway. The tower seemingly spears the Citadel almost halfway to its middle. The surface of the onyx tower is engraved with characters and bas-reliefs, one reads: “Upon me you can tread, Though softly under cover. And I will take you places, That you have yet to discover. I'm high, and I'm low, Though flat in the middle. And though a joy to the children, Adults think of me little.” But this impressive edifice is used only as a platform for the V-shaped staircases, broad enough for ten platoons to march upon, winding up and up, and seeming never to end, as if it were the staircase to Heaven itself, but in reality only leading up to the 37th level. Most visitors go up, while others go around its immensity to go right on to the ruby throne, first passing through chambers that compose the mind of the disciple before entry into that most sacred of places.

Entrance to the Seat of Powers:

When someone would enter those levels below, they are required have their names entered in the rolls by the Doorkeeper. His station is a dark parody of the Manservant on the other side of this level. Dressed in old monk’s clothes, the Doorkeeper is a grim officious old man. Sitting on a high stool of tiger skin, an ornate black marbled writing desk atop a mahogany podium in front of him, which is atop a dais of fused skulls, the Scribe requests their names and reasons of visit in his ledger. He takes his responsibility seriously. Resembling large ledgers, the books have five total columns. The three list statistical information: name, age, and purpose. The last two columns contains information of interest. The doorkeeper states “That way to the Seat of Powers,” pointing to a slowly winding stair, the railing cut from the same glassy substance that all of the Citadel seems constructed from. The stairs are composed of black onyx steps polished to a high sheen. Although the flight of stairs incline gently downward into darkness, there is a sufficient emanation of luminosity from the steps themselves to guide feet.  The stairway is a sloping spiral, jutting from the wall of a great well or shaft which sinks deep into the heart of the world. Dark it is and chill, a penetrating cold moisture rises out of the black pit, making them shiver and draw their clothes more closely about them. The steps are wide and steep, they seem to drop to a dizzying descent. Since all levels in the Citadel are so large, people do tend to give up on using stairs that just keep going down.

The stairway seems endless, the immense shaft seems to be drilled all the way to the secret heart of the Seat of Powers itself. You try to imagine what stupendous force or engine could possible have hollowed out this giant tube, but his imagination failed before the effect. No, it could have been the work of mere men. No engineering marvel in all the lands he knew could compare with this . . . not the great Cylinders of Psamthis, the tower tombs where lie buried the age old Kings whom entire reigns have been devoted to the task of raising their own memorials . . . nor the vast and ancient Wall of Golzunda, those vine-grown, jungle-buried ruins deep in the Southlands, where some unknown and unmemoried race of Jungle Lords had raised a man-made mountainridge beside the shore of the Peloma . . . nor the towering ramparts and splendid palaces of Heptapolis itself, the Crown-City of the World . . . not all of these architectural feats together could equal the gigantic task of emptying this mighty shaft deep into the bowels of the planet. It will take the strength of a God to perform this task . . . . the vast hand of some being as far beyond man’s little strength as man is above the reptiles.

But at last their dizzying descent into the abyss is ended, and they stand before a door.

The PCs may ascend the immense staircase, descend into the depths of the seat or continue to explore the rest of the first level.

Art Chamber

About forty yards ahead, the green corridor does end, in a narrow green doorway of amazing height, thirty feet from the floor to its pointed tip. Beyond is a huge golden tiled room, ten times as long as it is wide, and lofty in proportion, with a planked ceiling of red timber supported by groined vaults of green stone whose intricately interwoven traceries are lost in the dimness far overhead. This golden tiled chamber reveals many cunning works of art, which the empires of the Imperium have given to Caspian as tribute or which have been commissioned by the Celestial host through the centuries for the honor and glory of Caspian. The custom is, twice every decade, all the myriad cities and towns and villages of the Imperium to vie with one another in bestowing gifts of great splendor upon him. The result is an extraordinary torrent of costly presents, extreme and disproportionate, indicating that the world has undergone a kind of wild frenzy of delight over Caspian’s rulership. The center of the floor is inset with a vast clock pattern in warm tones of agate, white opal, and topaz.

Things to see:

The huge chamber is packed on all four sides with a bewildering overabundance of the most astounding assortment of gifts, a fantastic display of the color and wonder of the Imperium. rising high, most of them still in their packing-cases, mountains of stacked treasure climbing toward the distant roof-timbers. All manner of precious antiquities that could keep a serious historian interested for months.

PCs wishing to loot this chamber may be free to do so. In an extreme case of oversight, there are no guards on duty in this chamber as it is believed that none would be so bold as to take what was so publicly given to the God-King by the Imperial nations. Should the PCs look around for anything that seems interesting to take, GMs should feel free to make use of the GURPS books "So What's That Shining Thing Anyway" and

Some examples might include:

• • A hundred-foot totem pole carved with Caspian's face on the top, one of the largest and most striking of the art pieces here. The God-King has been obsessed with preserving his likeness in every art form imaginable, so he has subtly commissioned such statues, totems, and other monuments to his glory.

  • lush carpets woven from the finest silk to be awesome proliferations of exquisite detail.

  • Figures carved of white gold are arranged on small pedestals.

  • In the center of the chamber is a still pool of blue water. The fish within the pond are clockwork creations of gold. In the center of the pool a great tree grows, fresh green leaves grows thick on its great branches, and they stir faintly as to the touch of winds that blow from some other world than this. One branch in particular catches their eye: it gleams like bright cold, and seven black birds sit on it. The birds have neither eye nor wing.

  • On a shelf are four small statuettes of cool basalt, each worth about 200 gold each. The three paintings in ornate gilt frames, in this room portray powerful-appearing desert nomads in windswept dunes, and one portraying black unicorns roaming a barren landscape as brave hunters carefully approach.

  • A bronze sculpture, standing nearly five feet high, occupies the far corner. Carved in the shape of different heads, this elaborate piece is a compilation of over fifty different animal, insect, fish, birds and reptile heads. The way in which all these heads combine presents a remarkable work of art. Skillfully carved-out, this sculpture shows amazingly accurate detail. Another piece rests on a pedestal in front of the southeast corner. Passing for a sculpture made of dozens of shiny square, one-inch cubes reflecting beams of light.

  • A golden mask molded to look like Caspian's face sitting atop a marble pedestal. On the inside there is a strange residue (a roll determines that it is contact poison) that looks like it's been smudged, as though someone put the mask on.

  • An enormous mirror of polished silver, nearly as large as one wall, ornate etchings along the edges and corners, mimicking some sort of royal filigree, the only thing marking the surface.

  • A ceremonial sword, finely crafted, its blade carved from bright white alabaster, the handguard, grip, and pommel made of silver, and embellished with rose gold, sitting on a prop stand. It shows very little sign of being used.

  • A massive cask made of slats of white birch, ringed with golden bands, a thick, highly alcoholic substance sloshing inside. The cask itself is worth a fortune, but if the alcohol is any good, it could be priceless.

  • A replica of the fabulous Red Obelisk of Thoth, seething with sinister fires that are said to be sentient.

  • Standing thirteen feet tall, carved exquisitely from the unimaginably huge foretusk of an even more unimaginable huge aquatic monster, a statue of the legendary hero And’ris tames the Gryphon in the Eighth of his Labors.

  • Only eighteen inches high, a crystal sculpture depicts the fall of the one thousand heretics of the Zealot Heresy of Ishtaria in bewildering and submicroscopic detail.

  • The most famous painting of the past eight thousand years, the Jubilance of Madhrene by Fonseco, worth the ransom of twenty-nine Viceroys, blazes in its alabastrine setting in a flare of blinding colors (including three hues, nace, delicre, and alivanune, which no longer exist in the octave of visible light).

  • A coin minted eight thousand years ago with the face of the first king of men. The age, kingdom, the folk, and the very tongue spoke has long since vanished from the knowledge of men, but the carven gold shines bright and pure as not a day has passed since it took shape.

  • A huge jewel, cleft to a thousand dazzling facets, and each plan and side and surface is carved with a rune of unknown power: fire slumbers at the heart of the gem, like a prisoned star.

  • A sword whose blade is a gleaming diamond lays on a heaped and gorgeous battle flag.

  • A head of graven brass, black with age, stands on a pillar of dull lead; eyes with gems glitter within the metallic sockets. There is life and intelligence in those eyes that turns, ever so slightly, as if to watch the PCs as they wander by.

  • Seven closed helms sitting on a wooden shelf. These belonged to seven legendary paladins who foolishly believed their righteousness made them invincible to challenge Caspian’s rule. Tapping a helmet results in a croaking recital of the last thing the paladin in question said. An example of which is “I, sir Gerald de Faunae, do challenge the tyrant Caspian to single combat. When he is defeated, he will surrender all....gurgle! ” Each subsequent helmet offers a challenge, identical to the first except for name and final exclamation – two arghs, three gurgles, a shriek, and a whimper.

Hall of Meaning

Stretching out in all directions is a floor of marble, punctuated at regular intervals by smooth columns that look to be ivory, with crenelated depressions in the surface to give them texture.

You raise your weapon as your see movement beyond a round arch, but the silhouette lines up to face each other across an antechamber are not guards, or even human. Only the flickering of torches set in brackets on the walls grants them the illusion of life.

They are square mirrors extending to the ceiling, each eleven to fifteen feet wide. There is nothing between the two except a few dozen strides of the marble floor, and you and your companions will have to pass between them. There is a glass ceiling above, through which the sun shines down. As you walk down the hall you see yourself infinitely multiplied, with each mirror reflecting the images in its twin.

You dislike this antechamber more with every step you take. You eye the mirrors with suspicion. Is it only the restless light that had make them seem to harbor some form of life? You keep expecting your own reflection to change, or even reach through to grab you.

There is normally nothing hostile here. The mirrors are merely here to encourage pilgrims to have a moment of self reflection before they are enter the presence of their god.

Chamber of Visions

A single archway leads further, though it is beyond the weak corona of light cast by the energy orbs ensconced in the walls, and therefore heavily shadowed. Emerging into the next chamber, you see red and gold pillows covering a floor made from a solid sheet of porphyry. Three people, two men and a woman, dressed in sackcloth robes, lay upon the pillows, deep in slumber. The woman’s long dark hair hangs forward around her face and even beneath the loose robe you can tell her figure is slim and, the way she writhes and tosses in her sleep, lithe. The scene is lit by what looks to be a net of scintillant points of light and color, softly billowing and multicolored, almost resembling a miniature cosmos. Sapphire, ruby, azure and scintillant, as brief as fireworks, it pulses, the way that a luminous jelly-fish propels itself through the sea. Atop a pedestal holds a glowing ornate chalice made of solid quartz crystal with a thick stem with a wide base. A single blood-red ruby is at the base of the bowl with fine veins of gold and silver branching out of the colored heat and extending to its edges, attached to a shining metal chain. Examining it more closely, you see that the chalice contains a pearly white liquid and has an aroma like that of spearmint.

The chalice is unthinkably valuable, however the chain attaching it to the pedestal is made of admantine, and it is unlikely that the PCs will have any means of breaking it.

If the characters decide to ingest the pearly white liquid (there are twelve doses within the chalice), the enchantment of the liquid will vault the drinker into visionscape, ("bringing the dreamer closer to Caspian’s glory, for He is the key to the doors of perception and the means of finding the answers to all the questions one never even knew one was asking."), read the following:

You pick up the chalice and drink from it. The final swallow nearly causes you to gag. You set down the chalice and wait for the liquid to take its effect. Before a minute had passed, you feel a curious warmth in your stomach; all your fears and tensions have been erased, and you are in tune with the rhythms of life and the mysteries of the universe. You perceive that nothing is evil and nothing is good, that everything is, instead, a part of Caspian. You accept the deaths of loved ones past and your impending fate with an elated fatalism. In addition, your head spin, sweat beads on your brow, and you fall into a swoon.

A mouthful sends the imbiber into an instant coma that lasts 1D4 hours, during which time nothing is capable of waking the sleeper. Dreams of ethereal expanses, colliding worlds, enormous vistas, with strange hills or endless avenues of statues and armies stretching off into infinite distance, burning cities, huge structures being constructed, and Caspian sitting on his throne. Upon awakening the dreamer has some dim understanding of the Cosmos and Caspian’s relationship to it. The individual is healed of 5D6 hit points/S.D.C. plus all P.P.E will be restored and the individual feels revitalized and energetic.

Chamber of Purification

Beyond the second antechamber, a pair of glittering golden doors swing inwards far enough to admit you, rising between snarling bronze lions. Eighteen feet high, the doors are studded with plate-sized gold lozenges, and their outsize vertical handles appear to have been carved from the thigh bones of a thunder-beast. From behind them comes the slow, almost funereal beat of kettle drums.

In the tremulous darkness beyond them you think you see a glint of precious metal. Without hesitation you stride up a broad flight of amber steps into what must be the throne room. As you take the steps you see the two phrases written upon the door's lintel: “Destruction to Enemies.” and “Life to the Loyal.” You wonder if the inscription is meant as a warning, and you wonder where you stand? Are you His enemy or you are to be counted as one of the loyal?

You are in yet another antechamber, and this one appears to some elaborate sweat lodge: Low benches ornamented with vines that twist around this sturdy platform with faces peering out from behind their leafy foliage. A faint sheen of golden paint accents some of the faces, while others have jade-inlaid eyes. Instantly you smell something, like the odor of cedar, and see thick smoke. The air is warm, and through the smoke you see that the source is a central pit, five feet in diameter The smell is peculiar, sometimes it seems to be very noxious, but more so aromatic. The benches surround the central pit, and upon sit several robed figures; they appear to be swaying in time to some unheard of rhythm.

There appears to be something written on each of the four walls in exquisite gold lettering.

The writing on the wall are separate stanzas of poems praising Caspian.

Anyone who is exposed to the fragrant heat and smoke for 3 melees, enters a light trance and sits on one of the benches. After 20 minutes the character finds himself profoundly affected, a tendency to glimpse momentary mirages. These are minor at first; sounds, voices, and apparitions seen at the periphery of vision. The effects depend on the person, but the standard ones are these: everything has a blood-red glow, purplish sheen, or glistens as if wet. Things seem to move in slow motion, stop motion, or have “afterimages.” They might see the world through a fish-eye lens, or their vision collapses so he can only focus on one thing — and on it the intensity of his focus seems preternatural. Gradually the hallucinations become more extreme as if a surge of energy running through their bodies; their head seems to fill with noise and voices. Images and sensations that one’s brain cannot comprehend appear to them. Exactly what effect this experience has on the character varies from individual to individual. Ambitious characters succumb to the temptations of power and becomes transfixed, lost among delusions of grandeur, often hearing songs sounding their praises. Other characters who are members of the faith instantly experience a sort of epiphany. The hallucinations are generally not frightening, nor are they are bizarrely incoherent. In fact, to the person experiencing them, they make perfect sense.

Chamber of Protocol and Reflection

A great hall, a full 100 yards in length and 50 feet tall, leading to the Throne of Ruby, lined with mirrors from floor to the high domed ceiling. At the intersection of wall and dome runs a line of windows. Small, though they are, they let in sufficient light to strike the floor and rise up into the middle of the hall, where the luminescence converges above the mosaic floor. The little windows placed close to the ceiling, from which altitude falls the reflected light as though from jewels, are all of different colors and designs; one is shaped like a daisy and composed of ruby glass; another of delicate arabesques of sapphire mingled with the yellow of the topaz; and a third of emerald sprinkled with rose.

In the center of the hall and running its entire length are hardwood tables of scrolls, each table waxed and shining. Each scroll is a fine sheet of gold, engraved with intricate glyphs and inlaid with cabochons of beryl, carnelian and lapis lazuli. Two long, slender dagger like handles carved from some white stone lie side by side on the gold sheet. On the scrolls are the protocol principles of the God-King. It gives the impression that Caspian is present at all times; thus, the follower must live according to his royal proclamations at all times. Once they read and learn from the scroll, they look to the mirrors. As if to ask themselves is, "Am I living by this?"

The Ecclesiastical Throne of Ruby

The open entrance stands before you, ten feet wide and thirty tall. It appears to be made of a pale blue crystal that appears to have clouds swimming in its depths. You see a movement that might have been a bird flying through those blue and white skies. You look upward at the flaming letters forming an inscription above the entrance's lintel: LET NONE FAIL TO BE AWED BY CASPIAN’S WORKS.

The chamber appears to be a vast pentagon three hundred feet on each side. Triangular walls constructed from solid emerald etched with runes and symbols from all religions of Caspia, rise up from the edges of this floor, sloping away at an angle. Above they buckle back and rise in another set of triangular to meet a roof of similar design. The overall effect of this dazzling, epic, echoey and grand space is humbling. For it is an immense icosahedron which cannot possibly support itself. The impression that is given, in any moment, this vast chamber could fold in upon itself and bury everything under tons of rubble. A massive circular column of red stands near the back of the floor, reaching a height of about thirty feet. The top of this spire is shaped like an ornate throne made from cut ruby. There are no steps or other visible ways by which one might reach this impressive seat. A slender shaft of brilliant white light rains down from the center of the ceiling, washing the pillar in an almost blinding radiance, slicing through the air like a searchlight through fog. Caspian sits on this throne when he wishes overzealous worshipers to be impressed and then be on their way, but now it is empty. Behind the throne is a large rectangular, whitish-gold tablet upon which is chiseled all laws contained in the Lathra, sectioned off portions by chapter. A finely crafted pedestal at his right hand holds many varieties of dice, while a sealed, flaming scroll stands at his left, both unsullied by the touch of any mortal. The other twenty thrones, circularly arranged like the prongs of a crown, are 10 feet tall. Each of the thrones has a circular, rear base, the sides of all twenty slope inward at the top. In the center of the room is a cubic altar, 21 feet square and high, accessed with a set of white stairs leading up to it, upon which tribute and offerings are placed from all tyrannized empires and worlds. On each of the top four corners of the cubical altar, raises a sharp, twisted, lance-like, golden horn pointing upward. Each projection is hung with burning censers, which produce a sweet, soothing odor, hung upon their tips.

And now, within the vaulted throne room at the center of the palace, the ruby throne lays broken in half.

You stare, mouth dropping open before you recover herself. Unable to tear your eyes away from the sight, you walk forward, right up to the shattered ruins. Your boots crunch lightly over some of the tiniest fragments, and you stop in your tracks.

You can see where it has cracked cleanly down the center, the fissure marks bold on either half.

What does it mean? Is the God-King dead? The thought nearly stops your heart.

It is worse than wrong that Caspian should be dead. It must be a mistake, an impossibility. It is a blasphemy. His death is not just a horror. It is an obscenity. Any world, any universe where He is permitted to die should be broken into screaming pieces, destroyed, burned in pain.

Things to see:

The Flaming Scroll: The scroll is a fine sheet of gold leaf, engraved with intricate glyphs and inlaid with cabochons of beryl, carnelian and lapis lazuli. Two long, slender dagger like handles carved from some white stone lie side by side on the gold sheet. The scroll is sealed not once but seven times with seven oval lozenges of brightly colored wax.

The Dice: Most of the dice are made from clear, brightly-colored crystal. There are pyramid-shaped four sided pieces -- each facet having three numbers, each number pointed in one of three directions. There are the familiar cubular six sided die. Eight sided resemble two four-sided glued back to back. Ten and twelve looking like sparkling jewels.

When the PCs may return to the Gateway Stairs, and continue their journey up the Citadel to the second level.

The Second Level

Whether by stairs or floating platform, the first things the PCs see of the second level is the central lobby.

They stand in the center of a great domed hall of a central lobby, a huge domed space whose faceted walls of sheerest emerald lifts above them into vague, infinite heights. Far above their heads, the domed roof is lost in thronged shadows. The walls of the vast empty hall shimmers with ghostly pale light, as if the stupendous chamber were carved from the hollow heart of some inconceivable super-emerald.

The immense acre of floor is paved in some mirror-like, glistening, translucent green stone in which tiny star-like atoms of light sparkle in microscopic galaxies.

Now the light strengthens. They can see that the emerald walls are faintly veined, like marble, with a dim tracery of thread-thin gold . . . a sprawling web of glittering light that spreads over the crystal facets of the wall like some weird arabesque, some monstrous labyrinth of glowing lines, spelling out a cosmic riddle, or tracing the potent figures of some galactic Pentacle of Power over the entire inner surface of the vast room.

It holds your eyes. The pattern seems almost recognizable, gripping your fascinated attention, forcing your eyes to trace and retrace the curious, near-meaningful angles of the golden maze, therein to read the secret meaning of the design whose structure and pattern just barely seems to elude your minds, a meaning that hovers on the borders of conscious thought, like a half-forgotten Word of stupendous import that trembles almost on the tips of your tongue.

Somehow you have not noticed it before, but a dozen yards from where you stand is a crowd of curiously gowned men and women stand, conferring in muted whispers.

Most of them are courtiers and aristocrats; you can tell this from their garments, which are woven of lustrous silk, with tasseled fringes dyed gold or crimson or purple, and from the amount of jewelry they wear, which is mostly of beaten gold.

The men in long formal robes and the women garbed in long ruffled dresses like Victorian women, with many petticoats, of lace of foamy gauze, with puffed and tagged sleeves to their slim wrists and tiny graceful spire crowns of a dull white metal. Their hair is teased into frizzy waves or braided into innumerable thin plaits. Some wear little silver bells woven into their hair, which chime pleasantly as they move; others wear gems threaded on silver wire. You pass by a woman in a bioluminescent gown, and some gentlemen with boots and gloves cut from leathers cloned from their own skin.

These are likely to be the royalty of Celes. You can see no weapons, nor any guards stand within the wall.

Your experiences with Royalty have been few and far between. You don't like what you are seeing: these people seem bored, frivolous, perverse, and decadent. The sort that go in for orgies and gladiatorial games and ambiguous erotic pleasures.

Here is a role-playing opportunity for the PCs.

Caspian’s enormous crescent sigil is inlaid into the center of the floor, made of poured gold that gleams against the polished porcelain. The sigil is in front of a giant screen, which acts as a chronicle of the Imperial viceroys. Down its left-hand side are the names of the viceroys, a list so long that one can scarcely read its upper reaches. Down the right is the corresponding list of empires. Beside each name is the date of reign.

Hallway of Statues:

The Hall is empty of visitors, the Citadel's inhabitants obviously busying themselves with other entertainments, and you wonder what those might be: concerts, balls, masquerades, circuses?

You stand in a pristine white hall of Corinthian columns, a quarter of a mile long. It is has been kept simple; the floors have been scrubbed to a gleam, and the ceilings and walls painted a bland undecorated white – all to enhance the presence of the marble statues, placed at evenly set intervals, which stand in arching alcoves, raised four feet high, along the hall.

The Statues: Each is a huge elaborate sculpture of a heroic man or woman, garbed in warrior dress or robes, and none are less than twice human height; some are carved from malachite or lapis or alabaster, others of jade and marble and other stones for which there are no name. Each is a masterpiece that looks as if it might come to life at any moment, standing either tall and resolute or perched regally upon densely ornate thrones worthy of the greatest of the monarchist rulers in the world. All of crowned Viceroys, the dates of their reigns chiseled into the bases beneath their feet. Some of the statues' marble swirls more black than white. Others swirl more white than green. Several of the figures grasp objects of seemingly symbolic significance: wheels, burning torches, blossoms, human hearts, cups, daggers, apples. A few of the figures hold mammoth texts. Many more display staffs of gold and jewels. A few of the enshrined Viceroys gaze piously skyward. Others brandish sabers toward an enemy unseen. Most bear immortal frowns of stern admonishment cast downward upon any laymen who may happen by. Some of the immense images are nude, and some depict individuals with several arms or heads, and some with wings either folded or outspread. The earlier sculptures also display the words "Complicity, Duty and Reverence" artistically integrated into the ornate décor. However, later statues bear only the abbreviation "C.D.R." with diminished emphasis. What remains constant, ancient or modern, is that all of the statues are embedded with an array of glistening stones and gems. roofed with panes of luminous glass that permits floods of vertical light to fall upon the glittering statues.

Optional Encounter: The PCs encounter a stooped, elderly caretaker in a long white smock smudged with stains of jewelers' rouge, perched atop a rickety stepladder, polishing a carnelian statue. "Hey. Be ye lost, strayed or stolen?" he says, cackling with merriment at the rather feeble jest. "I be the caretaker." He brandishes the scarlet rag with which the statues is but halfway polished as if if it were a badge of office, which it might well be, for all the PCs know. "And a thankless task it be: nothing but dust and polish and dust, with never a soul to say 'well done!' at the end of it."

The PCs can take either hall to the welcoming Rotunda.

Rotunda

Things to See in the Rotunda

The Fountain:

The Visitors:

Porcelain Room:

The grand expanse of inlaid floor, made of more than twenty varieties of wood, is an elaborate and intricate pattern of scrolls and flowers. The walls are wainscoted in highly polished wood up to waist-high, and above that, an intricate wallpaper in blue with gold highlights, a motif of lianas, leaves, and lilies. The occasional Corinthian column leads to the center. The shelves of this room are ornamented with porcelain plates, cups and saucers. Dominating this room is an immense table, draped in the finest white linen and set with porcelain bisque china, cut crystal and golden utensils.  Four elaborate candelabra, each holding a dozen white candles and a single black one, serve to break up the long expanse of the table. Two silver chandeliers hang from the ceiling, swaying gently in some unknown breeze. Each of the four arms holds a dozen white tapers, surrounding a black one. Twelve, brass-bound oaken chairs surround the table. This room is used for informal dinning, and usually empty.

Nautical Room:

A long corridor with walls of polished black stone leads to a heavy black door carved over with gilt griffins, locomotives, and fleurs-de-lis. The door is carved from ebony, and its gilding is of gold. Two parallel rows of ship models, ship wheels, portholes and other maritime fixtures stand in the center of the room. The room has endless fields of stained glass as blue as the sea. The rays of these delicate lights and pictures combine to splay upon the wide floor to make a representation of the sea under a line of miniature ships in glass cases. Neptunes, and nautiloids, mermaids and sunken cities stretch away. The carpet is navy blue, and the wainscoting is a wood polished until it gleams like gold. The pedestals and carven archways rank down the corridor's length gives it the sobriety and sublimity of a museum. In the center is a huge fish shaped sculpture made of panes of transparent blue and clear glass pieced together like a mosaic. The fish sculpture is 3-dimensional and one can see the framework on the inside of it which is made of short crystal rods and black metal L-shaped pieces.

Ballroom:

You are in a long, massive marble and crystal hallway, at the end of which gilded and gold-handled double doors stand open as if they were silk curtains.

You have known that some of the palaces of the Viceroys have them, but this enormous jewel of a ballroom still takes your breath away—from the spectacular chandeliers carved from gigantic crystals, gilded mirrors, lavish paintings and murals, polished tiled floors—all combined to form a setting of immense style and majesty.

Yet here, the emphasis is entirely on the dance. An alcove at one end allowed the orchestra's music to pour over the dancers and through the halls beyond. A single row of gilded chairs circled the oval room, allowing the few spectators to gossip in comfort. The center of the room is filled with set after set of magnificently dressed men and women, all dancing the minuet.

The ballroom is more magnificent than anywhere in Versailles. The pillars that mark the angles, each one broad as a skyscraper, stretch up to disappear in the green and gold heights far above. Red and white tiles cover the floor, all walls are mirrors so that a million reflections may waltz into infinity, and the ceiling is plated in gold and hung with dark-red velvet curtains bordered with green and gold designs. Numerous oblong and round tables draped in monogrammed creamy linen cloths have been placed with geometrical precision about the hall and are attended by six high-back mahogany chairs, upholstered in brocaded silk -- three in sea-foam green, three in dusty rose. Twin lengthy buffet tables stand adjacent to sliding crystal doors upon the opposite wall. The entire base of the walls, as high as the line where the green and gold embroideries begin, is cased with mirrors. Spotlights wheel through the shadows of the ballroom, pushing fast-moving ellipses of brighter red across the mirrored walls. Large windows sparkling with complicated patterns of white and gold admit sunlight, along with a row of amethyst lamps hanging from the ceiling glitter off a dazzling array of gold and mirrors. A massive spiral staircase, broad enough for six people to walk side by side without crowding, with great red banners set upon silver poles and draped in ornate gold designs, leads to a balconied second floor, fifteen feet above. The ballroom is illuminated by the glow of thousands of scented candles situated on chandeliers carved from massive diamonds. 

 When Caspian feels like it, this room is used to entertain his servants and guests by using this room for his famous parties and masquerade balls.

Booths: Hundreds of booths sprawl between the pillars and fill the ringing balconies, which circle up at least a dozen stories before the swirling ceiling of gold and green, providing comparative privacy; the seats are high backed and upholstered in leather, and the booths formed from panels of colored glass that rise from the tops of the seat backs to form partitions. At the back of each booth, the wall above the seats is a large crystal mirror in which one can watch the scenery about them without drawing attention to oneself, yet each one designed to give a maximum of privacy to any couple inside. The cushioning itself is comfortable, but the dimensions of the booth require them to curl and contort before one can find a position that is reasonably relaxing.

As the ball wears on, many of the guests openly disappear into the booths.

Grand Feast Hall 

This gigantic fire-lit hall is used for feasts and occasional parties. Thousands of long tables, each a lovely affair of lustrous mahogany, form a mushroom forest that covers the shiny main floor, with twelve hundred silver-clad Automatons speeding between them circulating drinks and providing food, all moving swiftly and frictionless as beads of mercury. In the center of the enormous room, on a raised, bone-white marble dais that floats in a crystal pool over the sides of which water flows in a continuous and even fall that is lighted from within, in the back of the room, is a third, smaller banquet table with five throne-like, angel-winged chairs where Caspian and his special guests sit. While also mahogany, it has upon its surface a mosaic of ornate design comprised entirely of ruby and onyx. At the center of the table is a gold throne surfaced with gold mosaic. Six horns curve away from the throne’s sides and above is a 78 foot high statue of a six-eyed serpent. Old fashion grandfather clock faces are set around the circular sides of the dais and a service ramp leads in a shell-like spiral up to the center of it. At each of the sixteen corners of the room an orchestra stands on a floating stage that sparkles and revolves like a sideways Ferris wheel. The walls are covered with woven gold and silver tapestries of landscapes of unusual beauty. There are deep rugs in fiery gold and blue treated with a special polishing agent, giving it an irregular shine that adds to the pattern of silver crosshatching lines. Dozens of gold and crystal chandeliers, set with emeralds and turquoises, hang from a golden bronze ceiling (note that they are big enough to swing on). The eating-ware is made from jewel-encrusted sliver and crystal glassware. The food served here is excellent, often consisting of seven courses. All of the food and utensils are magickally enchanted to amuse the guests; floating silver pitchers lined with vermeil pour wine and fruit juice, and only stop when ordered to. Ivory saltcellars carved in the shape of spiders scurry away when approached. The food is conjured up and walks or flies on to the guests’ plates.

Lesser Feasting Halls:

The Grand Feast Hall is centrally located, but even so huge a space as is incapable of holding infinite guests, so the great hall leads a chain of others, five, eight, ten lesser feasting-halls in a row, whose connecting doors can be opened to make a single linked chamber of truly gargantuan size; and in these, room after room after room, the attendees of Caspian’s banquets are distributed according to carefully measured weightings of rank and protocol. Enough seating is provided for over five hundred thousand people.

Battler Hall

From the central rotunda,  you see great double doors, almost twenty meters tall, each door perhaps five or six meters wide. They seem to be made from what looks like beaten copper, or perhaps bronze - they glow dully in the reflection of the ceiling. Around the doors are carved great hieroglyphics in a language that is unfamiliar to you. The glyphs are mainly pictoral, with lines and circles making up the remainder, and appear to be outlined in electrum.

Pulling the heavy doors open by themselves might be difficult, requiring great supernatural strength. There is a 15% chance of the doors being already open.

If the PCs enter the Battler Hall through one means or another, read them the following:

You stand in another truly gigantic chamber; a cavern of what appears to be polished black onyx. You feel as though you are staring into the very heart of night itself. You look upwards to see tier after tier of polished black basalt, upon which appear to thousands and thousands of black onyx terraces that encircle this vast chamber in concentric rings. Looking down and down, the terraces become stacked tiers of black benches, hewn from solid basalt rock, almost resembling a monumental amphitheater. Down, down, past them is a black floor beneath and stretching up and up to the nearly limitless reaches of the walls that thrust upward in the curve of the dome and blends with the ceiling. As they look out over this vast, cavernous space there seems to be tens of thousands of small fires of flickering blue-white light, making shadows dance on the exposed surfaces.

A massive walkway splits down the side of the hall and leads to a large dais, upon which sits an enormous half-dome. Upon closer inspection you realize that the hemisphere is a replica of the world; the seas are of slate-blue marble, the islands are of silver, while the continents are covered in a layer of gold. The top of the sphere is split open and carved into a seat; an enormous throne atop a subjugated planet.

A short flight of steps leads from each box to the level above the amphitheater. The battler hall doesn’t just serve as an arena, but also a judgement hall, official ceremonies and council chambers.

Thing to See:

The Throne: The chair itself is big enough for two men to sit on it simultaneously and tall enough to need a medium-sized stepladder to mount. Caspian typically assumes twice normal size when seating upon it.

The Audience Seating: The terraces possess gilded rows of seats, enough for 180,000 guests from the world over. Each spectator has a comfortable, padded lounge chair on a swivel base to make his or her job of watching that much easier. Before each chair is a small television screen so that the spectator might see the action close up when it strays to distant parts of the arena during heated moments of battle. The lowest tier of the amphitheater is punctuated by cantilevered boxes, like those in a playhouse reserved for kings.

The Arena: Twenty feet below the lowest tier is the massive circular arena pit, 459 feet in diameter. The floor is a glossy black stone similar to obsidian, with rolling steel doors on all sides, openings decorated with monstrous carvings – gold-plated images of wolves and snarling beasts heads embossed on the heavy fronts. One contains an antique, but fully operational Sherman tank. Additional features include spikes which can emerge from the ground, a simple telekinetic act will cause the entire arena to wobble or spin on its axis. There is a raised plinth on the arena floor directly before the dais.

The Lectern: The arena's only furniture is a simple wooden lectern such as a conductor of an orchestra might use to rest his sheet music upon. Upon the lectern is a golden tray bearing a pair of matched, highly decorated but nevertheless deadly, picklike hand-axes. The head of each is burnished until it shines, displaying a fine cutting edge on the wide blade, and needle tip at the end of the rearward spine. The slender, piercing spine is barbed and cut with runner to keep the blood from flowing down the shafts of the weapons to the hands of their users. 

Optional Encounter: If the PCs are ever forced to fight in an arena or called into judgement, this chamber might serve this purpose.

Hall of Judgment

From the central rotunda, you follow a short curving passage decorated with craven masks and brilliant mosaic ornaments in green and gold, until finally you step up three steps of blue lapis lazuli, each ten feet wide, and a massive pair of burnished gold doors, twenty feet high, inset with panels of black marble.

As the characters approach the doors, read them the following:

Living torch-flames leap in the wall scones as the doors open into this octagonal chamber. The panels are carved with nine symbols (from left to right): a pair of titan scales, a sheathed sword, an open book, a sheaf of ripe grain, a bundle of rods containing an ax, a cogwheel, a floral wedding trellis, a stork, and finally a Gnostic eye. 

Each of the symbols embodies a concept related to the rights and duties of a civilized society, and each of the panels have been enchanted to impress these values upon the individual before judgement occurs. Touching one of the panels triggers the effect, which lasts as long as the character is within the illumination of the window.

Effects:

Scales (Justice): On a failed roll, the character's alignment switches to Lawful Evil and becomes obsessed with imposing law and order through the use of force and terror tactics, but only while in the glare of the stained glass window.

Sheathed Sword (Defense): The character will suddenly be engulfed in a blue-white energy field that functions like a suit of energy armor. It provides 100 S.D.C. (in addition to any other S.D.C. armor), regenerates 2D6 S.D.C. per melee round. However, the character is rendered completely motionless, trapped inside the armor and will have to be lifted out of the panel's glare.

Open Book (Freedom from Censorship and the duty to learn): The character temporarily gains the abilities of Speed Reading and Total Recall along with an intense fixation to read and learn, like a starving man seeking morsels of food. Any written material on hand or in the character's possession is fair game (magical scrolls, letters, receipts), and the character will spend however long it takes to completely read them, ignoring everything else. Once he has run out reading material, he will be compelled to seek out other sources of knowledge, leaving the panel's glare in the process. Once he has left the light, he instantly loses the knowledge and abilities he gained, along with the majority of information that he learned while in the light, fading in the way a dream does upon awakening.

Stork (Reproduction):

On a failed roll, the character becomes lost to feelings of lust (the primal urge to reproduce) that he or she is largely oblivious to anything else around him/her. Only works when the object of the victim's (perhaps secret) desire is available.  Penalties: No Perception Rolls even apply let alone get a bonus, -3 on initiative (unless it's toward the object of his lust), -5% on skill performance and it takes three times longer to do, and he is so completely distracted that he does not notice bad guys coming toward him or sneaking away, a friend in trouble, a particular target, etc., and loses track of time and forgets his objectives. The character's alignment will determine how far he may be willing to go to sate his lust; the character will not do anything that is completely out of character. For example: A Principled or Scrupulous good person will have enough restraint not to rape their companions, but may strongly suggest amorous plans. On the other hand, an Anarchist character is likely to take things much farther, with crueler tricks, threats and violence, and an evil character will do just about anything: frame a rival for a heinous act or crime, jump on their intended person and rape.

The Hall of Judgment's walls are decorated with precious stone against a flawless back of a luminous white as onto pearl. Its great twenty-foot-high walls are layered with gold trimming, which harmonizes with the majesty of the twelve large silver pillars that holds up the glory of the roof. The floor is what grabs one’s attention. There is a swirling effect in its very composition, as if one can see a crystal river of glass mixed right into the golden color, with a hint of pearl. The floor itself remains constant, but underneath the top coat of this flood is actually a moving river of crystal clear water from one end to the other. Walking on this floor appears as if one were walking on a crystal glassy-golden sea. It is all in shadow but for a single column of light that angles down from a stained-glass window at the highest point of the ceiling, which is all decorated with the scales. The walls are solid alabaster, inlaid with chunks of diamond, and deeply carved with bright red whirls and lines of yellow forming a mosaic with small icons representing constitutional principles sending out lines, to each case in which they are quoted, from the center. Bright lines for controlling precedent, dim lines for dissenting opinions or dicta. Each case quoted in a later sends out additional lines, until the concentric circles of wall icons are meshed in a complex network, with the crescent moon in the center behind the witness stand. The wall mosaic is meant to represent the fixed immutability of the law, but the play of light from the pool beneath makes it seem to ripple and sway and change with each little breeze. Three of the walls are made of clear glass, allowing the additional guest seating of one thousand people, with fifty rows of twenty seats, to observe the proceedings, as well as having six stained-glass Gothic windows stretch from floor to ceiling, ornately bordered with swirls and spirals to either side. Under each window and above the floor, not touching it without sound or motion, hover three massive cubes of black material: Gazers. The crown of each of these Gazers bears a thick-armed double helix of heavy gold.  

Things to See:

Judge's Seat: The most prominent feature being a high, brightly polished, ornately carved, gilt rostrum housing a platinum throne and desk. The designs on the rostrum are geometric, reminiscent of Islamic art, cleverly if not brilliantly interwoven with conventional symbols of justice and cosmic balance. The rostrum houses the judge's seat, and the judge is Caspian, welding the scepter of red crystal in his gauntleted fist. It is a seat that seems to lean over the rest of the courtroom like the plow of an oncoming ship. Heavy, leather bound laws books, sealed with padlocked tabs, float weightlessly around him, strong golden chains preventing them from flying away. The covers of the large books are embedded with jacinth, diamonds, sapphires, chrysolite, and multitudes of other precious stones. Surrounding the judge’s seat are statues of the four Queens, all keeling in quiet offering, one holds a sword, another holds a set of great iron scales, another offers a rolled-up scroll, and the last a rose carved from palest pink quartz. Water flows down to either side of the seat into two shallow pools directly in front of it in an endless cascade of white. A polished breccia jury stand is off to one side (seats 16 Vandaliers). The two, whitish gold tablets of the law, with the Sixteen Codified inscribed upon them, are before the jury, resting upon a skull. The accursed stand before the bar of divine justice, their heads bowed, their faces blushing, their hands shielding their downcast eyes from the glory of the Ardent Presence.

The judge's seat is typically empty, but will be occupied if the PCs are on trial.

The Cube: On the left side of the witness stand is a floating golden cube is used to display evidence; the cube shape symbolizing the solidarity and implacable majesty of the law. Its high position shows that the facts are above emotionalism or earthly appeals. The cube rises into the air and opens up like a geometric flower, so that it presents sixteen screens, four facing each side of the room.

In this place Caspian has passed judgement on hundreds of thousands of people, guilty or innocent as supreme judge. It is here where cases from old earth were reopened and new evidence presented.

Witness Stand: A witness stand equipped with restraining devices in the form of serpent coils, is in the very center of the room. With a gesture from the judge, the moon glows and a sprinkle of red dust floats upwards, more resembling solid drops of blood. If the judge so desires, the droplets will erupt in a circle of blood-hued energy, closing in upon itself which inflicts 2D6x10 damage per melee round to anyone sitting on it, in order to speedily pass an execution sentence.

Courtroom Observation Balconies: These room are typically filled with tables, benches, stands, translation booths and chairs.

The Servitors: Two bird-like Seraphims wielding flaming swords stand on either side of the witness stand; both of a more frightening, but less massive variety than others, reminding the witness that this is the celestial court of justice. At each of the room's four corners is a Psalmiter whom will speak of the God-King’s mercy, even if rage takes hold of him and he strangles the accused with his quicksilver chains.

Optional Encounter: If the PCs are put on trial, such an event may certainly be conducted in this room.

State Waiting Room:

Anyone seeking an audience with Caspian waits here in this enormous room filled with huge marble and golden statues of Caspian, Vandaliers, dragons, cats, and fairies. With a ceiling that raises nearly ten stories to a central point, the hall is very similar to many gothic style churches. Dragon-heads of carven stone leer from lintel and wall, with oil lamps of fretted silver hanging from their grinning jaws. The floor is glistening white marble. High, large windows line both sides of the long room, sparkling with complicated patterns of white and gold admit sunlight, along with a row of lamps—great golden, mirrored things hanging from the ceiling on silvered wall brackets—glitter off a dazzling array of gold and mirrors.

The painting is a large portrait, displayed in a golden frame that is ornately decorated with intricate patterns. At first glance, the painting appears to depict a disturbing and distended human eye, with a pale blue iris and a large dilated pupil. The pupil is stained with blood, adding to the unsettling nature of the image. However, upon closer examination, the viewer realizes that the "eye" is actually made up of a perfect circle of stars in the blue surrounding a perfect ring-shaped rainbow of light, like an iris. The rainbow is a lovely blue at the outer and largest ring, shading through the spectrum to a delicate rose red around the inner ring. Next is a thin line of gold, and an opposite rainbow curved in perfect unison inside it, this one with a red outer ring surrounding a small blue circle. Inside this smallest blue ring is another, smaller storm of stars, exactly matching but mirror-reversed from the outermost star-stream. Whirling crescents of clouds draw the eye to the swollen red eye that is the center. Midmost is utter darkness, like the pupil. Upon further inspection, the viewer realizes that the painting is a depiction of a collapsed star cluster, the swirling patterns and colors representing the chaotic aftermath of a cosmic event. Overall, the painting is a stunning and unique depiction of a collapsed star cluster, with intricate and detailed elements that draw the viewer in for closer examination. It is a testament to the beauty and complexity of the cosmos, and the mysteries that still lurk within its depths.

It was the eye of a Great Beast, the eye of the God-King. Once looked on, it is impossible to look away. It draws the eye in closer, to deeper at the Mystery that dwelt at its center...

The eye of the God-King swells to fill the golden frame as the eye of the beholder is drawn in. It is impossible to look away now. All that matters is to find out what exists at the core of the painting. Deep, deep down is the answer to everything...

Characters must roll to resist beguilement, and touching the painting results in the PC transported to the depths of the void. It appears to be the depths of space that the characters tumble into, but after a few panicky moments they will discover that they can in fact breathe and the temperature, while chilly, is non-lethal at 50 degrees F (10 C). Occasionally, in the distance, the characters can see space-suited figures drifting through the blackness. Unless they have some form of flight power or are really talented with a lasso, they may be drifting for quite some time.

The Third Painting ("The Birth")

The painting, titled "The Birth," is a dark and foreboding depiction of a childbirth scene. The setting is a dimly-lit room, with a bed at its center. On the bed, a woman lies pale and in shock, her newborn baby swaddled beside her. The room is filled with people, including midwives, nurses, and family members, all of whom are gathered around the bed. Despite the joy of the moment, there is a sense of tension and unease in the air. In the corner of the room, a cage hangs from the ceiling, and the eyes of a bird perched within gleam sinisterly in the darkness. The bird seems to be watching the scene unfold with a sense of malevolent intent, adding to the unsettling atmosphere of the painting. Adding to the sense of unease is the presence of a cat, which can be seen crying up at the bed with a mournful wail. Its presence adds to the sense of danger and uncertainty that surrounds the birth. Overall, the painting is a haunting depiction of a childbirth scene, with elements of danger and malevolence lurking just beneath the surface. It is a reminder of the power and intensity of the birthing process, and the many unknowns that can come with it.

The Fourth Painting ("Still Life")

The painting, titled "Still Life," is a vibrant and colorful depiction of a table overflowing with fruit. At the center of the scene, a cluster of white and purple grapes can be seen, their plump, juicy appearance suggesting that they are ready to burst at the slightest touch. Surrounding the grapes are a variety of other succulent fruits, including peaches, plums, and other juicy delights. These fruits spill across the table in a riot of color, their skins gleaming in the sunlight that filters through the window. The artist has skillfully captured the realistic appearance of the fruit, depicting their various shapes, sizes, and textures with great detail. However, despite the realism of the painting, there is a sense of the ephemeral quality of even nature's sweetest gifts. The fruit appears to glow from within, as if it is infused with a light that belies its mortal nature. The painting is a celebration of the beauty and abundance of the natural world, but it also serves as a reminder of the fleeting nature of life and the impermanence of all things.

The Fifth Painting ("The Orgy")

The first iteration looks like a classical scene; a grand banquet hall filled with wealthy citizens in the midst of a lavish party. The room is adorned with gold-leafed columns and frescoed walls, and the tables are overflowing with food and drink. In the center of the scene, a group of guests can be seen reclining on couches, feasting on exotic foods and laughing and chatting amongst themselves. Many of them are dressed in luxurious garments, adorned with jewels and fine fabrics. As the viewer looks closer, they begin to sense a sense of excess and decadence emanating from the painting. The guests seem to be indulging in every pleasure imaginable, from the rich foods and drinks to the sensual delights offered by the entertainers in the corners of the room.

Distorted it becomes a disturbingly vivid depiction of a loathsome Hell, filled with men and women shrouded in webs of fiery mists. Their naked bodies were locked in every sexual possible combination, twisted and contorted in unimaginable ways. The details of the painting are superb, with every sinew and muscle and swollen organ showing every living, save fiber. The details in the painting are so lifelike that it seems as though the figures are struggling to break free from their fiery prison.

But it is the faces of the figures that were the most disturbing. Faces without flesh, and on those faces not ecstasy, lust or even pleasure, but such utter horror that it makes one numb. Their terror seemed to reach out at the viewer, causing their skin to tingle with ice. It was as if the figures were begging for mercy, imploring the viewer to rescue them from their hellish fate. 

Overall, the painting is a powerful and unsettling painting, one that would leave a lasting impression on anyone who see it. It is a vision of Hell that is both vivid and terrifying, a reminder of the darkness that lurks within us all.

Characters must roll to resist beguilement, and touching the painting results in the PC being transported that same scene depicted in the painting.

The Sixth Painting ("Caroline")

The painting depicts a young woman, captured in the prime of her youth. She is dressed in a classical white dress, with a high lace collar that frames her delicate features. Her long hair flows over her shoulders like molten amber, giving off flashes of gold and red as it catches the light.

Despite her aristocratic bearing, the woman's features are soft and kind, free of any haughtiness or arrogance. Her gray eyes flicker with life and intelligence, and there is even a hint of humor in their depths.

Overall, the woman appears so alive and vibrant that it seems as if she could step out of the painting at any moment. Her beauty and vitality are captured perfectly by the artist, making her a truly breathtaking and captivating subject.

The Seventh Painting ("The Sacking of the Capital")

A grand celebration takes place within the capital's grandest hall. Outside the walls, barbarians gather, their torches casting long, wavering shadows.

The painting depicts a city in the midst of chaos and destruction. The once-great metropolis, a symbol of wealth and power, is now a ruined shell of its former self, its streets and buildings reduced to rubble. The skies above are dark and foreboding, and the air is filled with the smoke and ash of burning buildings. The streets are filled with the bodies of the fallen, both barbarian and citizen alike. There are hordes of people fleeing the invaders in terror. Most are women who are either scantily clad or completely naked, and very few, it appears, will successfully escape. In the center of the scene, a group of barbarian warriors can be seen triumphantly raising their weapons to the sky. The barbarians are depicted with a sense of savage energy, their muscular bodies covered in sweat and grime. They wear the spoils of their victory proudly, with gold and jewels adorning their armor and weapons. They are the conquerors, having brought down the once-great civilization that had grown decadent and complacent. But as the viewer looks closer, they begin to sense a sense of sorrow and regret emanating from the painting. It is as if the destruction depicted is a tragic and inevitable outcome, the final act in the decline of this great civilization.

The painting is a haunting reminder of the fleeting nature of power and the dangers of complacency. It speaks to the cyclical nature of history, as civilizations rise and fall in an endless cycle of rebirth and destruction.

The painting's caption below its title reads: Fallen angels sing as the empires burn at the hands of heathens.

The Eighth Painting ("Elysia"):

The painting is a stunning and poignant depiction of a shaded glen, with a clear pond nestled amongst the trees. The water is calm and still, reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above. The trees are depicted with great care, their branches and leaves rendered in intricate detail. The painting has a sense of peacefulness and tranquility, as if the glen was a hidden oasis, undisturbed by the chaos of the outside world. But as the viewer looks closer, they begin to sense a sense of tension and unease. On the left bank of the pond, a group of nymphs can be seen cowering in fear. They are a group of beautiful, otherworldly creatures, with delicate features and long, flowing hair. They are naked except for flowers, and their eyes are wide with terror as they gaze upon an approaching group of people. The people are a menacing sight, brandishing weapons and advancing towards the nymphs with grim determination. They are a rough and brutal group, with scars and tattoos marking their skin and the gleam of battle in their eyes. Despite the danger they face, the nymphs remain frozen in fear, their delicate bodies trembling as they brace for the impact of the approaching attack. The painting is a striking depiction of the vulnerability and innocence of the natural world, and the dangers that threaten it. The painting speaks to the idea that even the most peaceful and serene of places can be touched by violence and brutality.  It is a poignant and thought-provoking work, one that will leave a lasting impression on anyone who sees it.

When transformed the painting depicts a gruesome and disturbing scene of a shaded glen, with a clear pond nestled amongst the trees. The water is still calm and still, reflecting the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above, but the scene on the left bank is one of violence and brutality. A group of demonic nymphs can be seen tearing into the flesh of their victims, their eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. They are joined by equally savage demonic satyrs, their goat-like features twisted into snarling masks of hatred. The victims of this brutal attack were the same group of people who had been depicted approaching the nymphs with weapons in the earlier scene. But now, instead of advancing with aggression, they were shown carrying flowers and other offerings of peace. The once-fierce warriors are now broken and defeated, their bodies torn and mangled by the demonic creatures that now feast upon them. The scene is one of violence and brutality, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurk in the dark corners of the world. The painting is a haunting depiction of the primal and unforgiving nature of the world, and the dangers that threaten those who seek to disrupt the balance of power. It speaks to the fragility of peace and the dangers of underestimating the power of those who dwell in the shadows.

Characters must roll to resist beguilement, and touching the painting results in the PC being transported that same forest depicted in the painting.

The Ninth Painting ("The Congregation")

The painting, titled "The Congregation," depicts a disturbing and unsettling scene of some kind of ritualized activity taking place in an enclosed space. The location of the ritual is difficult to discern, as it no longer resembles anything earthly. Instead, it appears to be an unpleasantly organic space, resembling a hollow growth or the intestines of a monster.

The congregation that is participating in the rite is equally disturbing, as they appear to be growing out of, or melting into, the walls and floor. It is as if they are taking root and merging with some common, putrescent matter that is both horridly alive and pulsing with energy.

At the center of the scene is a "priest," an indescribable creature of insectile form that is somehow semi-liquescent. The creature is elevating an object that might have been a drinking vessel, though its contorted, asymmetrical shape makes it difficult to discern,  suggestive at once of the chalice that it used to be, as well as some soft bodily organ.

Overall, the painting is a disturbing and unsettling depiction of a ritual that has become twisted and corrupted. It is a reminder of the dangers of straying too far from the path of the natural world and the consequences of seeking power from unknown and forbidden sources.

The Tenth Painting ("Abstract Study")

The painting is three feet by four and initially covered in a sheet. If the white sheet is removed, read the following.

Are those clouds, the artist painted? Swirling, multicolored clouds? Or is it blood running out of a wound, sort of gushing and spiraling down into a ragged hole? Or is it something swirling up into a ragged hole? The more you look, the less you can make sense of what you are seeing. And something, somewhere (maybe the second voice in your head that always argues with you) is telling him to look away. Something vague and deep down is telling you not to look any more at what is there. But the more you look, the more you can feel yourself being drawn into the painting, wanting ... no, not wanting, now needing to make sense of the way the abstract planes and colors swirl and merge and move on, pulling you into the vortex of movement. There is something at the center of the hypnotic, sucking whirlpool of shapes and angles. Something that is taking substance as you look and are drawn deeper and deeper into what was there.

'... something ...'

You can't look away.

The shapes are coming out to meet you as your eyes draw you ever deeper towards them.

Any weapons or objects the characters hold drop to the ground. There is a 30% chance of a bladed weapon inflicting a wound when it drops, striking the PC's foot or leg. But the character feels no pain. The pain is in their mind.

Because, at last, you know that having looked on what has been painted, you could never look away again. Your eyes have been seduced by a juxtaposition of color and angles and shapes that cannot be looked upon without something happening to the mind of the onlooker.

You are looking at Madness.

The Eleventh Painting ("Self Portrait")

The Twelfth Painting ("Unholy Land') 

The painting is a large triptych; divided into three scenes.  

The Throne: Although wooden in construction, and even slightly misplaced considering the opulence of the surrounding decor, it is fit for a king. The throne's four thick legs are widest at their bases, tapering up into the body of the chair. Each leg is carved to look like a tree root, and a trunk with many bare branches - all chased with delicate silver inlays – is carved in relief up the back of the throne. Two of these branches actually project out from the wooden surface to provide a support for a bladed weapon. Closer inspection reveals tiny faces carved among the branches, every face a mask of agony and defeat, their dead eyes are picked out with inlaid pearl, and they stare blankly down at you. The arms of the throne carved to look like arms with thick, twig-like fingers picked out in incredible detail, with two fingers on each hand wearing silver rings accented with gold and set with a small amethyst.

The Vault of Treasures:

The vault door itself is huge, towering at 20 feet tall and just as wide, and it is said to contain all the treasures on all the worlds Caspian rules. If not for the magic it would be impossible to open. It has 50,000 S.D.C. with an A.R. of 19 and would be one tough nut to crack.

The vault door is covered in runes and there are some very clear symbols inscribed on the door. They are the combination to unlocking it and relate to a series of spells that need to be cast in order to open the vault. Those skilled in either reading runes, or have mystic knowledge such as Lore: Magic, have a chance (8%) to open the door, albeit with a considerable amount of study time ~ at least ID6+6 hours, and that's rushed. The runes spell it out (no pun intended) and if one can't read runes, they have to rely on the mystic symbols etched into the middle of the door. There are four rows, with the first row being a set of precious gemstones the size of watermelons. In order, there is an Onyx, Emerald, Diamond and Ruby. These stones represent the four elements (Earth, Water, Air, and Fire, respectively) and any Elemental-like spell activates them. The next row contains a series of pictographs. The first is a sun, then an eye in a Circle of Mystic Knowledge, a gold key, and a Shadow Beast. In this line the following spells that would be cast are Globe of Daylight, Eyes of Thoth, Escape, and Shadow Meld. The third line takes spells from another discipline and has the following symbols: a clock and a clock among a storm. For these two symbols, any Temporal magic spell will do for the first symbol, although is should be 8th level or higher, and a Time Maelstrom spell for the second symbol. The final row has only a single symbol: a depiction of an open Rift. The casting of any high level dimension spanning spell such as Dimensional Teleport, or Dimensional Portal is the final key to unlocking the vault. It must be a spell, so those with the natural ability are out of luck. Of course, those able to read the runes will have ready instructions with the exact spells spelled out. For Caspian, there is but a simple command word that he utters to gain entrance. For anyone else, only those who figure out the key (above) and possess the magic to activate the sequence, get in. Once the final spell is cast there is a series of loud clangs as huge, hidden tumblers are moved. Slowly, the door opens to its full length.

The vault is impressive but empty, for Caspian uses it simply for show. Any prizes, rewards or sparkling treasures drawn from it are either transported here from elsewhere or created directly on the spot when he is in attendance. It also doubles as a convenient trap, as the vault is, in effect, one giant dimensional envelope with no apparent limit.

Should the PCs actually gain access to the interior of the vault, an illusion of vast wealth is created. Read the following:

You stare into the open door, gazing into the yawning blackness of the vault.

At first there is only the sensation of immensity; the crimson walls of the vault soar straight up into the remoteness and are lost overhead in clinging, age thick shadows. The immensity of the vault could not be perceived from outside; within, it seems far larger.

On the top of the sensation of soaring immensity, you perceive shadowy dimness. The walls seem oddly translucent, permitting light to pass through from beyond the vault, but it is a dim red gloom, drowned with purple shadows like some dense fog.

Light grows stronger, clearer.

It is as if the walls were self- luminous. Or as if you stood within some giant’s lamp made of that scarlet alabaster. You stand amid a strengthening, ever-brightening blaze of deep scarlet illumination.

And then you see the treasure…

The entire shaft of the giant structure is choked with a flood of burning gold.

The precious metal glows with ruby radiance in all the crimson light. Gold . . .gold . . .everywhere you turn, your eyes are filled with the glorious luster of the rare metal. It is fashioned into crowns and coronets, diadems and tiaras, helms and shields, rings, armlets, brooches, batons, flagstaffs, thrones, breastplates, idols, images, statues, busts, artworks. Coins. Coins of a hundred million ancient realms on a thousand world. Coins of gold, silver, platinum, bronze, nickel, chaya, iridium, and the precious metals of many planets; coins oval or triangular, discoid or square, rectangular or ring-shaped. A thousand thousand treasuries had been emptied into this mighty vault!

And jewels. Indian diamonds, smoky as clouded quartz. Black diamonds, dark as obsidian. Opals, zircons, beryls, turquoises, sandastras, and pearls like so many miniature moons. Necklaces of jet and amber and porphyry. The three kinds of ruby, and the four kinds of sapphire, and the twelve kinds of emerald. Chalcedonies which guard against poison, and amethysts which guard against drunkenness. Red carbuncles. Topazes, like lion's eyes.

The gems blaze like pools of liquid light, sparkling and glittering and sending out their prisoned radiance in sheets and rays and sparks and starry clusters.

The loot of Empires is here: elephant tusks as long as a man is high, heaped upon lion-skins, and silver urns filled with powdered coral, and blocks of purest amber. And here were barbaric plumes of fantastic birds bound with threads of scarlet silk, and myrhh and frankincense and balm, and odorous nard, saffron and rare spices, and great bars of glowing orichalcum.

Bronze plates and sheets of thin gold, silver ingots and cubes of jade; gold-dust in bottles of sauropod hide and peacock feathers. Here are amulets of paste and talismans of virgin copper, scarabs of haematite and periapts of green jasper, all in a litter of ivory spoons and spatulas of gold.

It is the loot of many worlds, and of all ages,

Your eyes skims over it, drinking in the shaking aura of golden radiance that plays about it, and the mind shrinks back from attempting to measure it. Strange statues of glowing crystal and fantastic sphinx-headed idols from far stars, hewn from gigantic jewels, and a million metals and gems and rarities to which you can give no name.

Truly, all the treasure of a universe was heaped and mounded in this vast room.

Any who rush in will be trapped, and the illusion dispelled.

The gold mountains evaporates into thin air. The jeweled crowns and mitres, idols, thrones and swords waver on the air—become transparent—and are gone.

It is over in a single instant. You barely have time to notice it before it is accomplished.

Numbly, without comprehension, you stare about the vault. Not so much as a single gem or a grain of dust remains. The floor is a single slab of red alabastrine substance, stretching from wall to wall without a speck of the treasure that had, moments before, almost completely hidden it from sight.

The room is entirely empty, save for a roughhewn hexagonal block of smoky crystal against the far wall. This object you have not seen before; the treasure heaped about had hidden it from view. Now, simply because it was the only thing that remains beside themselves in the empty treasure vault, you stare at it.

And from it, comes a whispering voice.

The characters are thoroughly trapped. They will require great magicks to escape the dimensional envelope.

Combat: Should combat break out with Caspian present, he may amuse himself by causing the decorations and furnishings to attack. Those thinking of using the statues to provide cover from combatants reveals that some of the statues are more than mundane — golems that animate at the Caspian’s command. The braziers and torches shoot out magical sparks and flames at random intervals to create harmful distractions. From concealed iron grates in the floor rises mists that reduces visibility.  Paintings will cycle to their horrific counterparts, and attempt to seize any intruders standing within reach and drag them into their individual little worlds. Others will silently caper, bleat, scream and wail, adding further confusion to the fight. Should he grow weary of the conflict, Caspian retreats and allows the vault of treasures to swing open, allowing its temptation to trap the intruders while he decides what to do with them.

Imperial Throne Room

The imperial throne room is a hall of splendor and majesty in which the most significant of imperial ceremonies take place, and so is equipped with artifices to create an atmosphere of mysticism and divine majesty. The psychology of the architecture of throne room is a psychology calculated to subjugate any human who enters. It is a half tetracontagon (forty sided polygon) the size of a cathedral, long and low-ceilinged, its walls subtly bowed so that subjects are drawn forward as they enter, and the room seems to widen and spread as one moves forward. The polygonal room is supported by forty massive purple alabaster columns topped with golden Corinthian orders from which springs several traditional torch sconces holding crystals imbued with sorcery that cast a faintly blue light. The pillars frame the room in majestic rows, flanking the aisle that leads to the throne, twenty to each side and three paces apart. The passageways between them and the wall are wide enough to permit an armored palace guard to walk without fear of a scabbard scraping, while the approach down the center aisle is ten men wide. The black walls are entirely covered with cascading waterfalls that reflect the torch's lights, giving the impression to anyone there that they are in a chimerical region of outer space. It is always kept somewhat dark. The tiles of the floor and walls are arranged in a rainbow mosaic consisting of polished jade, malachite and marble fitted together like puzzle pieces with the red cutting a path down the center of the room, leading toward the throne. Below the darkness of the vaulted ceiling hang silver poled banners of crescent moons, serpents, towers, trees, and obelisks, along with twenty Seraphims sounding fanfares of exquisite purity on a long, golden trumpets. On the far wall is a 150-foot high, pyramidal marble dais, lead to by two flights of red-carpeted golden steps. The throne stands elevated upon this marble platform, which can be made to rise when Caspian sits. The high-vaulted golden room is lit by circular openings, allowing the sun to hide the dome's support, creating the illusion of a ceiling floating in permeating light. Intricate detailed mosaics cover the long walkway and rise up the sides of the walls. The throne is backed by exquisite midnight blue silken drapes that have been shot though with gold threads, diamonds glittering like drops of dew in the streaming strands. The back of the chamber— the walls, the dais, the disk and the capstone— have all been grooved, carved and etched over with gold, blue, white and purple symbols, markings and scrollwork, forming a series of circles bordered with gold lines and from it, in all directions, extends tiny silver streaks and geometric patterns, also bordered with runes, giving the throne at its center an unnerving, terrible, yet obvious significance. About twenty feet before the dais, the ceiling takes a sudden lurch upward, so that the dais and the circular area immediately around it is surrounded by a vertical shaft. Light pours down from this shaft, glinting on the feet of the dais. Subjects have to stand at the base of this monumental dais and crane their heads upward, into the light, in order to look upon the God-King. Around the throne are, on each side of the polygon are twenty, seven-foot high, gold and blue shrines equipped with massive urns that continually burn various kinds of incense and glow with a blue fire. Above each is exquisitely crafted mask, as well. It is at these shrines where visiting Viceroys stand in postures of obeisance below, their heads bowed, delivering their reports and appraisals, their expert assessment to the state of his Imperium, as well as pleadingly request his aid. A formal audience with the God-King is a complicated and lengthy affair. Birds are released and the room is filled with scents and mists to catch and deflect light. Trumpets blare and the God-King appears on the throne.

Things to See:

The Throne Itself: The throne is a large high-backed platinum seat inlaid with thick bars of gold on a capstone twenty-one feet square and seven feet thick, with two golden serpents with crystal orbs within their mouths to either side of it, glittering rubies for eyes. The seat is ornately made, cushioned with a deep red velvet. To symbolize that the God-King rules from this throne and that all jurisdiction, edicts and power flows from it, a holographic map of the world may raise from the throne's armrests, and old-fashioned grandfather clock faces are set around the sides of the dais.

The Disc: Hanging behind the throne is a massive, platinum disk engraved with a "C" shaped crescent moon, Caspian's personal symbol.  Engraved on the disk and written again upon the dais is an inscription which reads “God of Kings, King of Gods.” The ten-foot in diameter disk has been programmed to fall and flatten any who dare to sit upon the throne except its rightful owner.

Escher Room

Through the gold and blue drapes in back of Caspian's throne is this strange room where Caspian goes to confront adversaries. A chamber with so many balconies, columns, connecting platforms, staircases, windows, and doorways at different heights and odd angles to each other that there is no idea what is up or down, near or far, inside or out, backwards or forwards. Planes reverse themselves as they are watched, receding corners and then suddenly jut out, rising steps invert themselves, floors become ceilings, walls turn into precipices, dead-ends become cellars, and high unattainable windows become pits. In this room, it seems that the law of gravity has been repealed, and perspective has seven dimensions in geometrical chaos, confounding the brain. This twisting of gravity will be very confusing to those who are not used to it; most enemies, except flying creatures, will be -2 on all combat moves/bonuses when battling someone who knows how to use the situation to their advantage (no modifiers if both sides are equally disoriented). Furthermore, characters with the skills of navigation, land navigation, and tracking suffer a skill penalty of -30%.

Public Address Balcony

You stand in a large ostentatious antechamber. All around you are a cream-colored marble alcoves, as well as pillars of silver and gold, that have been draped with delicate strands of ivy carved from a green stone (jade) Archways lead to adjoining chambers. In the center of the floor is a pool-sized basin of utterly still water. On one side of the chamber is an open space equipped with a marble balustrade and crimson curtains to either side. The floor is single huge mosaic of major triumphs, composed of simple slabs of marble exactly an inch wide. Looking up you see that the ceiling resembles the night sky with stars scatted thickly like diamonds on black velvet. The antechamber is lit with lamps shaped like rosebuds and sconces carved from look to be gemstones in diverse shades of amethyst, running along the lengths of its walls.

You walk to the balustrade and look out at the Citadel grounds six hundred feet below, and unconsciously you cling to the railing for support.

You try to estimate how wide the ceremonial plaza you are looking at. Could it be three square miles? Twice that?

The enormous square is surely the most beautiful in the world, an immense space which could hold as many as a million people, a colossal artificial landscape created for the sole purpose of giving the God-King a suitable site to address his people. You can see the faint illuminated wisps of mist from the Inner Courtyard's fountains. By their dim, multicolored illumination you can see the gleam of marble fountains and alabaster statuary. Ornamental gazebos rise amid trimmed hedges and grotesquely shaped topiary trees. Benches of glimmering crystal stand here and there upon the velvet grass.

You see the magnificent colonnades running like wheel spokes over golden causeways glistening in the sun like polished brass. 

You have never seen such perfection, such a splendid marriage of form and function. You breathe deeply. The sight of such order gives you pleasure. The entire universe should have been like this, you think.

Characters that have been awarded a great honor may be presented on his balcony. In which case, the plaza below will be filled with over a million spectators. If Caspian has reason to give a speech, he does it here to the adoring crowds below. Magic spells and advanced circuitry integrated into the walls of this chamber can transmit the images from the balcony onto holograph-like projections that appear in many open areas of the Imperium as true, fully dimensional representations. This allows those who cannot fit in the courtyard to see and hear the speeches as if they were present in the Citadel courtyard.

Servant Quarters:

It requires a small army of servants, chamberlains, and concubines to attend to every need of the royal guests that occasionally visit this floor. Attired in subdued uniforms, courteous, omnipresent, the staff seem to outnumber the guests. They are placed in a separate wing of this level. There are over one hundred rooms, and each is identically laid out and contain the same furnishings, although they also feature additional decorations or clutter that reflects the personalities of the individuals that reside here.

Servants question any person who invades their quarters. If the response is unsatisfactory, they call for guards to have the intruders arrested. If the heroes surrender, they are disarmed and taken to in the Stronghold below. Their weapons are kept in the room where they were captured. There is a 10% chance for each turn spent in these rooms that a new servant arrives, having come off his shift.

Whenever the party enters one of these rooms for the first time, roll on the table below to determine who is quartered here, and what their chambers contain.

Who is Quartered?

Random Encounters:

01%

Conveyance Loading Bay

On the opposite side of the public address balcony is this series of square openings leading to golden-lined tracts in which the Primus Modius docks when it is on this level. From there it can travel to either the Escher room, a secret chamber behind the Judgment Hall.

If the characters should happen to find these tunnels, read to them the following:

Role-Playing Opportunities:

A Royal Audience

It is here more than any other level of the Citadel where the PCs might encounter Caspian Himself.

Some possibilities include:

* He will answer one question, but only one so the PCs had better choose wisely.

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