On the edge of the Abyss!

[Yaztromo]

The only character with a dagger, throws it to the jailer through the grille - and misses by a mile!
Hector the Invincible limps down from the grille and, despite injuries and fatigue, with the speed of lightning grabs the blowpipe that was just used against the Quagrant, summons a small dart from a pocket and blows it to the jailer. The hit is true and the jailer chockes in seconds, blue-faced.

As you lie panting, Hector grunts and flexes his broad shoulders. 'Ijust can't understand it,' he says, shaking his head. 'Three months ago I was sent by rny Lady on a journey - a mission tu retrieve a mighty relic, i braved perils beyond description to find the artefact... and my reward? Dragged, beaten and abandoned to that creature by some cowardly pretender. By the Grace of all the true gods, 1 had already hidden my prize safely. Now I must deliver it toLady Desideria'
Obviously Hector has not learnt yet oi the death of the Lady.
As the characters gently explain the situation to him. He clenches his fists and stifles a cry: '1 will have my revenge!' he hisses, 'and 1 will take it now!' He jumps to Ms feet and helps you standing on his shoulder like a human pyramid, until a character can push the grill open, get out and lower a rope to help the others out. Then Hector makes his way out of the chamber, grabbing a torch from the wall to light his way along the dark passage.
The characters follow him out of the' building and into the courtyard, where he strides over to the waier-trough by the stables. He
readies into the scummy water and retrieves a leather pouch- 1 believe I can trust you,' he says, tossing the pouch over to you. 'I go now to root out the traitor who has slain my Lady. Keep this well and, if 1 should die, give it to Blackmoor's new ruler'
He whirls the flaming brand about his head and charges towards the gate of the keep.

Continues...

[Yaztromo]

Hector the Invincible is followed by the warrior of the group that is in better conditions, while the rogue and the other warrior (with heavy injuries) try sneaking from behind and take out some Palace Guard while they are focussing on Hector.
The result is quite a disaster: Hector and the character are killed, while their companions, realizing that they would probably follow their fate and that they have a mission to accomplish, retreat quietly to their room, leaving the bodies of their friends behind.

The leaves of Jheera are still green and, in the leather pouch from Hector the Invincible, is a large round locket, intricately crafted from platinum and other rare metals.
It is set with black stones, arranged in what is unmistakably the Seal of the House of Andahar. The clasp is carved in the shape of two interlocked silver dolphins. The characters try as they may, but cannot prise them apart, so they feel that it is only magical power which is keeping them together.
Stowing the locket away carefully, they settle down for the night.

Next morning, the servants are scurrying about the courtyard. They erect a kind of low stage, with a platform behind it. Soon a coffin is brought ouland laid with great care on the low stage by a number of priests. Clearly the coffin is LadyDesideria's, and her body is being brought out so that her subjects may pay their last respects.
Calogrenant, Brangaine of Maus, Gwen Rehant and Igraine the Silent all file out and take their places on the platform overlooking Ihe catafalque. Then the guards open the gates and allow the citizens to file reverently in.

When the courtyard is full of people, the characters mingle with them.

They take their place in the long line of citizens waiting to kiss (he hand of their departed ruler. In front of them, two citizens are having a whispered argument, and they cannot help but overhear. 'I'm not having you kissing tier hand!!! not after you poached her finest swans!' says the wife of the pair. 'I've heard what they say! Your guilt would turn her skin black as night!' 'Hush, woman!' her husband replies. 'Always grabbing the wrong end of the spurtle. The tale goes that if a murderer kisses its victim on the lips, they'll turn black as burnt parchment. Tve nothing to fear - she won't be missing her swans now, will she?' As they approach the body, they fall silent and how their heads in reverence. Desideria lies in full regalia, the Sword of Office gripped in her right hand, while her left rests upon a cushion so that her citizens may kiss it.
As the characters bend to kiss her hand, they lock eyes with Lutliaur, one of the heroes who remained behind to defend Vestfold. He stands just to one '¦ide of the nobles' platform, fidgeting nervously with the pommel of his sword . Strangely , he betrays no sign of recognition.

The characters hold up the Sealed Locketup above their heads for all to see. The citizens near them back away in awe.
Taking advantage of the situation, they tell how Hector the Invincible brought it back from a very perilous mission ordered by Lady Desideria, when there is a screech from the platform in front of you. 'Sacrilege! Seize the thieves!' Igraine points at the charaters, her body trembling with rage. Calogrenant is staring open-mouthed at the locket. Brangaine cries: 'It is the relic of which Desideria spoke on her death-bed - the Fate of Andahar!' Igraine cuts her short with an imperious gesture: 'Guards! Luthaur! Kill this treacherous dog.'
This time the locket snaps open very easily, and the guards shrink away from you. The nobles stare at the interior of the treasure with a mixture of bewilderment and shock. Inside is a faded picture of Hector, painted with uncanny aeeuracy. Even though the picture is old and cracked, as if painted centuries ago, it depicts him exactly as he appeared when you saw him last night. Gwen Rehant leaps to her feet and gestures for silence. The Fare of Andahar has decreed the tnith. Hector is the new King of Blackmoor!'

Everybody hails and cheers, but the characters then tell her of Hector's death. They point at Luthaur and accuse him of being a traitor. Guards surround him and he is dragged away, protesting his innocence all the while,
Taking again advantage of the momentuous situation, the characters openly challenge Lady Igraine the Silent to kiss the lips of Lady Desideria.
With consummate grace, Igraine rises to her fee! and looks around her. She walks slowlv over to the coffin and stands before il. She lowers her head towards Desideria, then stops and straightens up again. She speaks, and though her voice sounds as quiet as the breath of a breeze upon grass, that it can be heard in every part of the courtyard.
"VVhv must I bow before the orders of this lying upstart? This is intolerable, an obscenity!' She is trembling with rage, but her features remain as placid as ever.
Then a brave soul from the crowd shouts out, 'Pay your respects!' and the crowd back him up with shouts and calls. 'Quiet!' Lady Igraine silences the croivd with one word. Then she bends over Desideria once more. An instant later, she has grasped Ihe jewelled
Sword of Office from the dead fingers which held it, and swings it violently at the rogue, causing a serious injury by surprise.
It's time to fight back! As Igraine fells dead soon after, a deep rumbling noise grows louder and louder. The Terrified citizens cower away. Then there is the sound of a thunderclap which knocks everybody off their feet; a smoky black tentacle curls from Sige's mouth and forms into a gaseous parody of her earthly form . It shoots straight at the characters face and they try desperately to ward it off with their arms. Something brittle shatters against their hands, and the gaseous form disperses.
The Jheers leaves wither under their eyes, sign that it is time to leave the preparation of Vestfold's defence to Calogrenant and to go back to the black swarm once and for all. No other hero is left alive in all Blackmoor, presumably through the villany of Lady Igraine the Silent.

[Yaztromo]

After some healing and a long ride in the desert countyside, they easily retrace the huge black swarm: they watch helplessly as it
engulfs a small town in the valley below. Amid the multitude, a palanquin is borne aloft by willing hands, and above it hangs a pulsing black cloud.
The characters prepare the Jheera torch and approach the horde by horse.
The horse is vast, and a foul stench wafts from it. As the characters near the bottom of the slope, they pass a dark cave entrance. The people of the horde take no notice of you, but the dark cloud above the palanquin begins to move in their direction, picking up speed.
The cloud of biack hornets swirls round them, but the breeze picks up, dissipating the Jheera smoke. The hornets are dosing in on them, so they run back to the cave entrance they passed, hoping that no breeze will endanger them there.
The cave mouth is large enough for them and their horses, but inside there is a small group of cavemen, thatattack while the characters have to hold on their torches, but eventually they dispatch them without damage and without much delay. By the time the hornets enter the cave the torches are re-lighted and soon the floor is littered with a thick layer of dead hornet bodies. None seems to have survided!
The characters go back and face the multitude of blank-eyed peasants. Several nf them set down the palanquin they bear, and from it steps a richly dressed man, his fact deeply scared, his eves burning with malevolence. His silent horde makes no move towards them, but the man gestures them to advance, his movements calm and deliberate. He speaks: "You'll pay for the slaughter of my winged
servants. You'll pay with your life.'
The characters, instead of fighting take off the fish shaped bottle that they got from the Riddling Reaver early on their adventure, making their opponent shrink back. He stretches his hand out towards youand moans, 'No! No! Not that!' They ignore his pleas and uncork the bottle. There is a sound like a faint chuckle from within, and the once-proud commander of the army dissolves into helpless crazed laughter.
The sacred weapons ssem pulsating in the hands of the characters as they unsheathe them. Convulsed with laughter, their enemy can do nothing to dodge the blades that catch him in the belly, and he is still laughing as he starts to topple. The Slave Master crashes to the ground, his body shattering as if made of china, from the shards emerges a wisp of black smoke, which grows and twists... into the shape of the man they just slew!
He smiles confidently and drifts towards them. '1 am Bythos, Master of the Abyss,' he says defiantly. 'Though you have destroyed my earthly shell, yet 1 live on. Blackmoor is still mine, taken from within. You will not rob me of victory! I have the spirits of these people in thrall. They will remain trapped in the Abyss for eternity!' His smoky form dissipates and they fall to the ground. Around them stand the people of Backmoor, or at least their bodies, empty and unmnvtng. They can do nothing for them.
The characters try standing up again, but they trip again: around their legs there is a big snake curled up! angrily, they raise their swords to cut it down. Before they can strike, the snake speaks softly. 'Don't you recognize me? 1 am Caduceus! Bythos has fled to the Abyss. You must follow him there if you wish to save these people, for Enihymesis has failed. The river in this valley flows underground and passes through a cavern in which there is a gateway to that region. Go now, lose no time.' He slithers away and the characters hurry over to the river. Using a rotting log as a makeshift raft, they are soon racing with the current.

Continues...

[Yaztromo]

The river leads into a tunnel in the side of a mountain, and the characters are swept into darkness. After a short while, the river sweeps round a bend and they are washed up on a rocky shelf, which is worn smooth by the pounding water. As they lie there, sodden and panting, they take a look at your surroundings. A guttering torch has been driven into a crevice nearby, and by its light they can see that, once round the bend, the river runs beneath an arch. Iron bars are set inlo the arch, blocking entry, behind them, leading from the rockshelf, is a dark tunnel, with light flickering along its walls.
They set out, treading carefully, down the passage until finally you arrive at a fierce wall of fire which fully blocks it. They steel themselves and leap through. They feel no heat, and realize that the wall was merely an illusion. The characters instead follow the runnel until it opens into a large chamber. The cavern has a high ceiling, and a fine mist of sand falls from it. The middle of the floor is covered with sand, and quivers slightly. Strewn carelessly across the sand are an assortment of incredible relics and treasures — surely a magical hoard the like of which was never seen before. With each tremor of the sand they sink deeper. A taint whistling, as of wind in a ravine, can be heard. Suddenly there is a croak from near by. The noise cam from a human face, embedded in a greenish slime. 'You musl flee,' it says feebly. 'I, Enthymesis, have failed to slay Maijern-Nosoth. I have little rime left to live, but you must escape. Do not go near the sands: they lead to the Abyss! Hurry, the beast returns!'
Despite the warning, the characters walk towards the centre of the room, but as they step into the sand they feel a lugging at their feet. They wade further into it, and sink up to their knees. A few seconds later, they cannot move their legs, and the sand is up to their waist. As their head sinks lower they take a deep breath, hoping it is not going to be the last. The pressure of the sand as they are dragged down is almost unbearable. Unable to move, they await the inevitable. Just as they have given up hope, they burst into space and plummet down through air full of glittering sand and treasures. Below them are swirling mists, and around them thunder booms
from the starry wastes. Have they escaped death by crushing, only to be dashed against the ground below? The speed increases, and they lose consciousness.

The characters wake up in a heap on a smooth, cold surface. Around them, treasures, probably magical, of various shapes and sizes float gently to the ground. A thick mist swirls, obscuring all but your immediate surroundings, and strange shapes shift among it.
The characters realize that they are finally in the Abyss and eat Lady Igraine's pomander: they wince at the acrid taste, but are rewarded by a spreading warmth. Only then they allow themselves to investigate the countless objects around them. Some of the most eye-catching are a gem-encrusted breastplate (far too small for the characters), a huge pair of shiny boots (apparently made of feath-
ers), a golden fist, a pearl-inlaid skull, an Onyx sceptre, a crystal globe mounted on a velvet plinth.... they stuff as much as they can in their backpacks before heading off into the mist.

One moment they are reeling from the impact of something slamming into your back, the next they are floating up into the air. rapidly gathering speed.
The air around them is a whirl of dancing silver shapes, and they realize that they are encased in the quivering body of a strange flying creature — an Ectovult. The ground is obscured by a carpet of shifting mist, but to your left you can see a floating wall of cells, stretching off towards the horizon.
Then they plummet back down through the clouds.

They land in a bowl-shaped crater in the ground. As they lie there, stunned, six Crystal Warriors carrying huge crystal hammers climb over the rim of the crater and advance towards them. One of the Crystal Warriors strides in their direclion and swings its hammer. The warrior of the group tries counter-attacking with his sacred sword, but it glances harmlessly off Ihe warrior. The rogue takes the onyx sceptre and gulden fist and uses it as a makeshift club, hitting th eCrystal Warrior from behind. He causes some damage, but the Crystal Warrior is a mighty opponent and, while his companion follow his example and attack as well, By sheer luck they dispatch the Crystal Warrior, when six more come inside the same bowl, swinging their hammers. The warrior keeps fighting and is swiftly killed and hammered into a pulp, while the rogue, the only survivor of the group, tries escaping. The rogue races up to the rim of the bowl, then chance a look back. Ihe Crystal Warriors are no longer interested in him. They are pounding at the magical treasures, sending up plumes of golden powder. Then, abruptly, they stop and march off. Soon he can hear the sound o( feeble chanting approaching.
After sending a last sight at the gory smear on the ground that was his companion, the character follows the chanting sounds while trying to hide in shadows and sneak.

[Yaztromo]

A tall cowled figure walks into the bowl, chanting all the time, and reverently collects up the golden powder into a silken sack. He is chanting 'Broth for my Master! Broth for Bythos! Magical broth makes the Master of the Abyss!' The character creeps round the rim of the bowl hoping to surprise him. A short distance away to one side, the character can see a crystal chariot with two Ectovults tethered to it and a Crystal Sprite standing patiently by. He hides behind a crystal outcrop until the cowled Gatherer approaches and then takes the Gatherer by surprise, cutting him down to the ground with a surprise attack from behind. Beneath the cowl is an emaciated, almost skeletal form. The character then wraps himself in the Gatherer's robe, takes his silken bag and approach the chariot.
The characters walks slowly up to the chariot and climbs in, while the Crystal Sprite bows reverently. Then he lets out a high-pitched yell, and the Ectovults lurch off. Soon the character is slamming across the plain at breathtaking speed. A few minutes later, the Spires of a fantastic crystal palace rise up before him, circled by hundreds of screeching Ectovults. The rogue can fully grasp the size of the palace only when he nears its enormous entrance. The building is many hundreds of yards high and is, formed, it seems, frum the same crystal he has been travelling on.
He enters a mighty chamber, and the chariot stops. Then he cimbs out just as another robed figure rushes up. 'You're late!' he hisses. 'Our Master returns and his broth is not yet prepared! If you fail, you will suffer his crvsial breath. Hurry!' He follows him across the chamber into another o£ similar size, in which a weird cauldron sits. Approaching, he realize thai H isa goblet over three feet high, fashioned for some mighty hand. Another cowled figure sits stirring the brew within, waiting for the character to empty his sack. He pours the contents into the cauldron and watch it darken to a murky green. Ihe two cowled figures depart silently, leaving him alone with the goblet.

[Yaztromo]

The character decides to take the opportunity and drink some of the broth. The broth tastes foul as it slides sluggishly down his throat, then settles unpleasantly in his stomach. He braces himself against the goblet and lakes a few deep breaths.
The door at the far end of the chamber slams open deafeningly, and in strides Bythos. This is not the Byihos killed earlier, but a towering giant, fully llfty feet tall. His gaunt, leering features are all the more threatening for their size, and his elegant robes billow about lus huge frame. Bythos strides impatiently towards the goblet. 'You were nearly lat, Gatherer. You know the penalty for failure!' he says.
The nauseous feeling the characterhad when he drank Bvlhos's brew returns even more strongly. He gags involuntarily, then whines in pain as his body twists and buckles. His robe is split as he bursts out of it, growing all the lime. Byrhos stands aghast, watching his transformation. 'Nol Not you! There can be only one Master!' he howls. Then Bythos draws in his breath sharply, before hitting out a freezing blast at the character.
The crystals which form on the character's skin quickly melt and drip from him, and the character advances on Bythos. Bythos dodges to one side, then leaps for the wall. With a blow from his fist, be smashes a jagged hole in it and leaps through. The character is right behind Bythos as he flees across the crystal wastes. He finally slides to a halt at a place where a chain leads up into the clouds from a hoop in the pound. He grabs it and starts to tug, but before he can break the chain the character is upon him: finally they fight each other for supremacy in the Abyss!
Finally, Bythos topples to the ground, shattering into a mvriad liny fragments. The character reel in the chain until the wall of ce!ls breaks through the clouds; he then rip the bars off, freeing its miniature occupants. Thousands upon thousands of them totter feebly
out of the cells and mill around, gazing about them in wonderment. When they have all emerged, the character leads them back across the crystal wastes to the palace. There the character is greeted by the cowled Servants; thev bow low and proclaim you the new Ruler of the Abyss.
Now he must find a way of returning to Blackmoor, so he asks them how it is done. They tell him that Bylhos used a rare blue crystal, powdered and dissolved in water, to travel to the earthly plane. Some remains, stored in the palace, and the Servants set about preparing the potion. Time passes as they complete their task. Finally they present to the character a huge vessel full of clear blue iquid. The newly appointed Gatherer steps forward and speaks. "Majesty, a great quantity of this potion is required to transfer your mighty being. We have prepared as much as we could, bur unfortunately there is not enough both for you and for all these spirits to be returned. You must make a choice.'
With a deeply painful expression, that character choosesto give priority to the good people of Blackmoor and stay behind in the Abyss.

He watches as the former prisoners each take a sip of the blue liquid. One by one they dissolve away in a blue glow, until he is left with only the Servants lor company. He looks down sadly at the empty bowl, counting how many centuries and millennia it will be before the Servants can fill it once more. He is already feeling his mind drift.
Feeling deep sorrow, the character crashes to his knees and start praying his Patron, the Immortal presence that sent him on this difficult journey that is ended with safety for Blackmoor, but death for his companions and a destiny worse than death for him.
Suddenly, he feels a hand on his shoulder and turns around. In front of him a man with along beard, smiling: 'You did very well, my friend!'. The voice is the voice that originally called him out of Tangor!
'Set me free, my Lord! I can't resist buried in this pit out of time! The power over incorporeal servants isn't something for me!'
'I drank the broth of the Master as well, and, you know, there can't be two Masters!' He smiles broadly.
'YOU are my Master!' replies the character and immediately starts shrinking to his previous size.
'Look' says the new Master, summoning and then training a magic mirror showing the good people of Blackmoor back to their homes, rejoicing, while Calogrenant, the new King, restores order in Vestfold and in the rest of the Kingdom 'you saved Blackmoor and the whole planet that were right on the edge of the Abyss, but you can now drink the last dose of blue potion and go back to Tangor. But you will not be alone on the way, as you need a Master to teach you my ways before I come back to you for your next mission'
The character feels something slithing up his body, he turns and finds himself face-to-grinning-face with Cadueeus the Serpent. 'Much wisdom is mine,' he says, 'and T have enough time to share it with you. I hope you will find me an entertaining companion.' Given a choice, he might have preferred lighter company; bul he'll soon find that the serpent is as wise as he claims.
With his great knowledge to guide him. he will uncover secrets beyond imagination. But...
'What will be of you, my Lord! You will be trapped in this pit of darkness for millennia!'
'Don't worry, my friend, the passing of time doesn't have a big meaning for me: I have been already in the future and in the past, and I will go to the future and the past again. I will make the Abyss a place of light and wisdom that will enlight Blackmoor through the dimensions, until the people will be allowed to know my name and worship me with it!'

[Yaztromo]

...and finally I managed to type it (more or less) all!!! :mrgreen:

Most of this adventure comes not from my head, but from Paul Mason and Steve Williams gamebook adventure "Slaves of the Abyss".
I found it very interesting and so I decided to adapt it to be played in Blackmoor, making the needed changes (plus some other unneeded changes...).
I think it adds a few motives and background stories that are absolutely not part of canon but fit reasonably well with the setting (by the way bringing back some of the "mad" motives that sometimes were part f the original campaign (or at least that's my impression) and adds an extra link to the ascent of Khoronus to immortality.

What do you think?