Adventure, Darmondrat's Palace

Charging buffalo. Rampaging hill giants. Infuriated greater dragons. These are unpleasant, short-tempered creatures best avoided under even the most congenial of circumstances. None of them hold a candle, however, to an imprisoned ifrit, a mischievous creature of magic linked to Elemental forces, but are not so much playful as destructive, cruel and vindictive. They are known to cause disease, drought, floods, and all manner of trouble for all mortal creatures, whom these beings consider their playthings.

While not exactly the most pleasant of beings to begin with, these notoriously ill-tempered, demon-like elemental entities really come into their own when confined. A captured ifrit instantly applies every furious fiber in its powerful being to the task of getting free. In fact, it will use its gifted mind to focus the immense magical abilities at its disposal so narrowly upon the project of regaining its liberty that reality itself has been known to warp around places where these monsters are incarcerated.

Darmondrat is a powerful ifrit who normally makes his home in the elemental plane of Fire. For millennia he whiled away his days, amusing himself by bullying lesser entities or eating the occasional wizard who carelessly strayed into his domain. Then one fateful day a maelstrom of spiraling energy opened in the ether above his head. Before he could flee, Darmondrat was compelled by a powerful voice to travel through the vortex. Unable to resist, he entered, only to find himself confined in a magnificently jeweled bottle on the material plane. He then heard a loud human voice exclaim “I always wondered if I could do that!” before the bottle was dropped into a large chest with a resounding, final thump. A lid slammed shut. This was in turn followed by the sound of a key being firmly locked into place. That was centuries ago.

Unbeknownst to the ifrit he had become a victim of the legendary conjurer Vashtori. The seemingly effortless summoning, binding, and imprisonment of Darmondrat were one of Vashtori’s greatest (as well as most secret) magical accomplishments, ones which have seldom been rivaled in the recorded history of spellcraft. Unfortunately for the hapless ifrit it was also a bit of a whim; the great conjurer simply wanted to see if capturing an ifrit were possible. He immediately lost interest in the experiment when it proved successful, hiding the bottle away in a chest buried deep in the depths of his mansion’s cellar.

But of course nothing that valuable is meant to stay hidden away forever. Vashtori died centuries ago, and his possessions passed to his heirs — most of them former apprentices — and they in turn disposed of them as they saw fit. For whatever reason, no one who owned Darmondrat’s Palace ever figured out what the strange-looking bottle really was (or if anyone did, he didn’t reveal that fact). The bottle has since been lost, and could turn up just about anywhere.

This fantastic circular chamber can appear to be anywhere from seven to seventy hexes in radius depending upon Darmondrat’s whims. The PCs always appear on a solid ruby hex directly in front of the wall separating area #9 (the Theater of Humiliation) from area #2 (the Harem) facing inwards toward the center of the room. Above them the Great Throne Room’s blue glass ceiling spirals upward for what appear to be miles until it finally puckers into a funnel-like opening stoppered by glowing ruby plug seemingly the size of the moon; it even produces a small amount of light, as though someone had to use the enormous gemstone to block off the outside. It pulses like a heartbeat when the PCs enter the room. Here and there precious stones the size of castles punctuate this unbelievable skyline like the faces of saints peering down from stained glass windows in some sort of monstrous cathedral. Massive fire-spitting dragons glide upon invisible updrafts far above, occasionally stopping to alight upon the surface of one of the gargantuan gems like a fly landing upon the back of a camel. The enormity of space above is so great that any PC looking at it for more that a few moments (executing a deliberate PER Roll, for example) must succeed with a PRE Roll; if he fails, he collapses to the floor holding his hands over his eyes and can do nothing for a full Phase.Despite its colossal size this chamber is also extremely hot. Any PC wearing armor (or extremely heavy clothing, such as fur robes) must make a successful CON Roll every Post-Segment 12 (or every two minutes out of combat) or suffer 2d6 NND heat damage (the defense is Life Support [Safe Environment: Intense Heat]). Characters not wearing armor, or who take off their armor, don’t suffer this problem; they just perspire heavily.Beneath their feel lays a pavement with gold dust and saffron, from which emanates an odor so subtle and delicious that it almost overpowers the senses, to which is superadded the fumes that coil into the air from immense censers of pierced bronze and wrought silver filigree which contain glowing coals upon which lumps of ambergris and the shavings of the wood of aloes are burning. A ten-foot high shelf-like structure made of white marble circumscribes this chamber. It’s divided into eight distinctive areas by the placement of gilded marble columns that end in fanciful minarets of ivory hewn one might guess from the tusks of Leviathan. Each area seems to contain a room of some sort that’s cut off from view by a different colored curtain. A unique, fancifully-curved script is carved into the marble above each of these rooms. Should the PCs be able to read the language of ifrits (perhaps through a spell of comprehension), they can read the script, which names each room. These curtains are actually dimensional barriers, as are the marble walls around them. They are immovable, indestructible, and impenetrable to virtually all Senses (only Clairsentience with the Dimensional modifier, or the like, can perceive through them), unless Darmondrat allows the PCs to go through them (see below).

The Dais And The Sanctum

The center of the great throne room contains a raised stone dais made of the blackest onyx. Nine gigantic statues of naked demonic woman clutching bowls of dark roaring flame over their heads are positioned equidistantly around its edge. Each of them seems to have been carved from a different gemstone the size of a redwood tree.

A massive row of steps cut directly into the dais’s shiny surface faces the direction of the PCs, almost inviting them to walk upwards into the smoky gloom. Should they circumambulate the dais (a process which may take some time depending on how large Darmondrat wants his throne room to be at this time) or fly over it, their vision remains obscured by the smoke. Only the casting of a spell such as Wizard’s Eye (see The Fantasy Hero Grimoire, page 235) will allow a PC to see through this murk.

If the PCs ascend the stairs, they pass through a noticeable (but not especially unpleasant) scented veil of smoke before entering into the circular inner sanctum where Darmondrat spends most of his time. He sits upon a mighty throne made of solid platinum and engraved with abstract spiraling patterns in gold, silver, and copper. Three feet in front of him an iron pedestal holds a large, crude bowl cut from a single piece of agate and filled with what appears to be liquid fire. He uses this bowl to cast the ifrit version of Benthara’s Spell Of Revelation (The Fantasy Hero Grimoire, page 33) with which he views the outside world. Two incredibly beautiful dancing girls with exquisite ornaments in their hair gyrate slowly around him as he peers into the dish. Evil, inhuman-looking musicians play an unfathomable Middle Eastern rhythm to which the alluring women sway their daunting hips. When the PCs enter Darmondrat looks up as if startled (he isn’t) before clapping his hands twice. The music stops, the musicians vanish, and the women walk into the veil of smoke after making suggestive glances toward the adventurers with their exotic eyes. Uttering pleasant words of welcome, he motions for them to sit upon the luxurious-looking cushions which lay scattered around him in a half-circle. The musicians, the throne, and the pillows are all phantasms created by Darmondrat, but the bowl and the two dancing girls are quite real. These women are actually succubi (see page 53 of The HERO System Bestiary).

After the PCs seat themselves (or choose to remain standing), Darmondrat explains the facts as he knows them to the PCs in a calm, reasonable, and friendly manner. He asks for their help, telling them of his unfair imprisonment, his desire to be free, and the process which will free him. He promises them wealth, magical items, and power in the form of Grant Wish spells (see The Fantasy Hero Grimoire, page 241) if they agree to help him. He also points out correctly (but misleadingly) that the only way for them to return to the place from which they came is to help him escape. He will not mention the portals to elsewhere that briefly open each time a “lever” is thrown, but he does explain the “lever” concept. Darmondrat doesn’t know the name or motivations of the Vessel’s creator. If the characters accept this quest, Darmondrat unseals the eight magical curtains to make the areas behind them accessible, changes the ifrit script over each doorway to a language they can read, and then impatiently gestures back toward the steps. Should the PCs refuse he sighs resignedly,