The others soon made their choices, as well. Like me, they had all found something that suit their desires perfectly. I would have been suspicious about that, in other circumstances. However, with how many choices there were in this display room, I would have been more suspicious if there hadn’t been something that caught their eye. Honestly, my main thought was to ask just how efficient this factory had become, if Cid was able to do all of this, but that wasn’t my concern, at the moment.

Fartooth had chosen a single-masted sloop that would be as light and nimble in the air as the ships were at sea. Like my ship, it was armed with cannons, though there were only two guns on either side, which apparently traded between the ‘magic missile’ shots mine had, and fireball shots, which were like the spell, and did 5d6 damage. However, that wasn’t the ship’s primary weapon.

The Dragon’s Answer, as Cid called the cannon that emerged from the roaring dragon head on the prow, was larger than those on my ship. That huge gun was couldn’t be aimed without aiming the ship, but the beast would make anything it hit know it had been touched, sending out either a 10d6 fireball up to six hundred feet on a 1d4 round recharge time, or sending a Disintegrate spell at a single target up to three hundred feet away, dealing a terrifying 40d6 damage, recharging over a full minute. Only problem was that the two modes shared the same recharge timer, which limited its usefulness. Of course, with attacks like that, you might not need more than one or two shots.

The sisters went in together on their ship, as I expected. What I did not expect was that they would choose one of the smaller ‘flying island’ type ships. Literally, the ship, if one could call it that, was a small island, only some five hundred feet from one end to the other, with actual fortress walls set upon it. However, the small keep (barely twenty feet on a side) inside the walls was not enough to support even a fortress this small.

That did not mean the little fortress was unprotected, of course. Spectral archers firing bows that launched conjured bolts of pure force instead of arrows manned the walls, and a ballista was located at each of the six corners of the hexagonal walls, enchanted to work like the ones on my ship. And, atop the keep on a rotating platform, was a cannon that shot five of those oversized Magic Missiles in a burst, with a 1d4 round recharge rate.

A shield covered the island, as well. It combined the Tiny Hut spell’s protection from the elements with the Entropic Shield spell’s protection from ranged attacks, while adding in the effects of a Spell Resistance spell for the island, its structures, and all the defenders. Most importantly, however, the shield also acted as a Mirage Arcana spell, allowing the island to appear as if it were actually a cloud.

Unlike the other ships, the living quarters were actually hidden further in, through a portal that would only open if one knew the command word, and revealed a space made by a permanent version of the Magnificent Mansion spell. This pocket dimension was completely protected from the outside world, and could be reshaped to the owner’s desire. Truly fitting for the sisters.

All told, even with the extravagant purchases of the two ships and an island, we still had not fully run through all five million gold that the bounty on Sidriel entailed. Fartooth and my ships combined totaled little over a million gold, and the flying island was two and a quarter million, when all was said and done. But Cid had something in mind that could make up the difference.

Limited Talisman of Greater Spell Immunity

Type

Tool

Weight

0 lb

This talisman continuously protects the wearer as with the Greater Spell Immunity spell. However, only two spells may be chosen, rather than five, as would be normal for a spell at this caster level.

CL 20

1/day – Change the two spells that are protected against by the talisman.

“Now, these aren’t my work, but something our artificers cooked up, working alongside a cleric who commissioned a piece,” he said, holding out five talismans. “Each of these talismans won’t take up space like your normal magic items do, but they will provide you with immunity to two individual spells of your choice, up to the eighth level. You can choose what spells you want to be immune to once per day, and the talisman will keep protecting you from those spells until you choose again.”

We gladly accepted the talismans, and handed over the tokens we had. Cid was able to use a pocket dimension he’d installed for testing the ships without actually making them appear over the city to transfer the baggage in the sisters’ wagon to their island. He didn’t have any use for the horses, of course, but he knew some people who would like the ‘exotic’ beasts, as a sign of their wealth. The wagon, though, he was going to take apart, and see if he couldn’t create something like his airships, but cheaper and less ostentatious. Something that would cater to those who didn’t have millions of gold to get rid of in a hurry.

After saying our farewells, and stepping out of the shop, where Ebonheart was waiting, we distributed the talismans. As we did so, Vestele whispered, “Choose the Holy Word and Dictum spells to be immune to. The archons are wont to use those, as they can be devastating to creatures who are evil or chaotic in alignment, but do not harm those who are good or lawful. We’re going to be facing archons, so that is our best protection.”

Not having any reason to doubt her, we all quickly set up the protections. Now, with our baggage considerably lightened due to not having the cart and horses to deal with, we made our way back to the checkpoint where we had parted ways with the devil in disguise. The guard took one look at us, and nodded, letting us through, just as she said they would.

The atmosphere inside the inner part of the city was noticeably different from the outer part, like on Market Row. Things were still orderly, of course, but everywhere you looked there were armed guards. Some wore the symbol of the Inquisition, and others (though fewer in number) wore the symbol of Torm. Those soldiers looked to be guarding buildings of greater importance, or perhaps where more influential people lived. Both types were vigilant in looking for possible trouble. The inner city had the air of an armed camp, about to be under siege.

Of course, there was a reason for that. Even without seeing it, I could feel the portal being held open in the city. It was like being at the point where two fronts met, back on the material plane, and just waiting for the sky to open up with rain. Except it wasn’t, so the sense of waiting power grew, and grew.

Finding the True Lord Inn was not difficult. On the well-ordered streets, which ran straight and true, there was no chance of getting lost. Justica Street led us inevitably to Temple Square, and the inn was right where ‘Shalheira’ said it would be.

Temple Square was as the devil had described it. In the center, there were four stone pillars held up four crystal orbs, which each glowed with an inner light. Between them, the portal was held open, and armed guards stood watch over it. Only four, and they were all wearing the armor of the Inquisition. But that was, perhaps, understandable, since there was an entire army on the other side of the portal.

The altar, too, was easy to spot. A massive slab of marble, inlaid with glowing runes and engraved with gilded images of Torm, and his various deeds. Even if I hadn’t been looking for it, there was no mistaking that this was important. But I did not let my gaze linger overlong, and risk attracting attention.

The True Lord Inn was a respectable, inn, one might even call it luxurious, by the size and the quality of the food and accommodations. However, the décor left much to be desired, as did most places here, in the inner city. The outer walls of every building were tightly regimented, to all look alike, with the same architectural style and no room for expression. Inside, well, the common room was too well appointed to be called plain, but it felt more akin to a hospital in my old world, rather than a place for drink and merriment. Despite the pleasant decorations, the whole place had a sterile atmosphere, which was not helped by the unease caused by the nearby portal.

We paid for rooms for the night, and moved to a quiet table in the corner with our drinks. They were a strong ale, with a thick texture that was almost like chewing your drink. One sip, and I already had suspicions that the drink was made that way purposefully, to make one less willing to overindulge and disrupt the orderly running of the inn.

As we settled in to wait for the devil to get done with her business and meet us, I let my eyes scan the room, taking in the other patrons. There were only eight of them, and four were grouped together along a wall not far from us, with the other four being in two separate pairs, closer to the bar. All eight were ordinal creatures, and most of them looked wealthy, just going by the quality of their clothes, which managed to look rich yet modest at the same time. There was a fairly standard mix of races, mostly humans, but with some other types thrown in, as well. Not nearly as motley as our crew.

The group of four were clearly adventurers themselves. As I glanced their way, my gaze met one of theirs, a mage of some sort. Clearly, he was doing the same thing as we were, and ensuring that there were no threats here, while he and his friends drank. A subtle nod of recognition was answered in kind, and we both looked away, agreeing to not cause trouble, if it could be avoided.

The atmosphere was stale, and sterile, but not grim. There was no sense of impending trouble, like there was outside. No, this was stagnation, the quiet calm that is the antithesis of life. The Inn was ordered to the point where I could have sworn the entire scene was fading into black and white, like an old movie from my world, or a pencil sketch.

Yes, it was more like the pencil sketch. After all, there’s still movement and life to movies, while a sketch is unchanging, until you take an eraser to it. Everything about this place felt as though it was trying to become set, a drawing upon the page, rather than a place where people lived. It was a different kind of disturbing than the atmosphere outside. Thankfully, we’d only need to be here for a few hours more, until it was time to strike at the portal.

The door opened once again, drawing all eyes to the opening. Those eyes immediately turned away with an unsurprising alacrity, once they saw who it was. ‘Shalheira’ walked through the door, still openly wearing her Inquisitorial medallion. Those who knew that sign knew they wanted no part of her, especially when the ‘elf’ looked to be upset.

The mage’s eyes flicked towards mine as he saw ‘Shalheira’ move directly towards our table. Before she even reached us, he was already whispering to his friends. By the time she had gotten to our table, the man had already gotten them up, and they started moving for the stairs, no doubt to take refuge in their rooms. The other patrons just turned back to their cups, and pretended nothing was happening.

Sitting next to me at our table, ‘Shalheira’ looked around briefly, to ensure no one was close enough to listen in. Seeing none, she sighed, and spoke in a soft voice. “We have a problem.”