GENIE’SPALACE Minimum recommended party: four level 20 or five level 19 PCs If you see a roiling thundercloud approaching, it may be an ordinary natural phenomenon—but then again, it may be Qal’at as-Saḥāb, the sky palace of the noble djinni Milāḥ, who travels the world in search of new knowledge and undiscovered beauty. In her palace, the kindly, gracious, and witty djinni hosts an everlasting salon, enlivened by the presence of several mortal shu’arā’: poets, musicians, and weavers of magic, on whom she’s bestowed a small portion of her own magical faculty in gratitude. Greater in power and stature than most djinn, though not on par with the rulers of her kind—and, therefore, not burdened by their responsibilities—she has the freedom to wander and follow her desires, a freedom she holds dearer than any possession. ASSETS Money. Milāḥ is rich, albeit not as rich as many noble genies. Her treasury contains about 18,000 silver coins and 2,300 gold coins—but these are djinni coins, three times the diameter and ten times the weight of normal silver and gold pieces, so each silver coin is worth 1 gp, and each gold coin is worth 1 pp (monetary value: 3). Total value: 3. Gems. She also has a cache of gemstones: fteen altogether, each worth 1,000 gp (monetary value: 2). Gems are prettier than money (intangible value: 1), but Milāḥ’s attachment to them doesn’t go any further than that. Total value: 3. Magic items. The djinni has a collection of magic items acquired in her travels or received as gifts. A thief would ascribe both monetary and operational value to them in proportion to their rarity (uncommon: 1, rare: 2, very rare: 3)—probably more value than she ascribes to them, since she has no intention of selling them and uses them only rarely.
They’re pleasant curiosities to her, nothing more… with two exceptions. Total value: uncommon 2, rare 4, very rare 6. Al-Hawjā’. One exception is Milāḥ’s djinni-size scimitar of speed, which for Medium and Small creatures is equivalent in size to, and has the properties of, a greatsword. She’s fully cognizant of this enchanted weapon’s usefulness as a tool of self-defense (operational value: 3) and doesn’t underrate it, nor does she underrate the value it might have to someone looking to steal and sell it (monetary value: 3). She also likes how it feels in her hand (intangible value: 1). Total value: 7. Oud al-Mawsū‘ī. The other exception is this enchanted musical instrument (equivalent to a Canaith mandolin). To a thief, it’s not the biggest prize in Milāḥ’s collection (monetary value: 2, operational value: 2), but it’s special to her: She’s a lover of music, and while it’s too small for her to use herself, from time to time she takes it out and allows one of the bards in her court to play it just so that she can listen and enjoy the sound of it (intangible value: 2). Although the djinni isn’t materialistic by nature, she believes strongly that this oud, an object that not only is beautiful in and of itself butalso bringseven more beauty into the world, deserves to be handled with particular care and respect (intrinsic value: 2). Total value: 8. Pact gifts. From time to time, Milāḥ grows fond enough of certain mortals that she o ers to confer special knowledge and power upon them. Customarily, they indicate acceptance of the o er and show their gratitude by presenting gifts in return. Milāḥ keeps a collection of these gifts—all the ones she’s received over the centuries—as mementos. They have material worth, to be sure (monetary value: 2), but to the djinni, their real importance lies in the memories they bring back (intangible value: 4). Total value: 6. Milāḥ. The djinni’s own life matters to her (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 4. Shu’arā’. But the lives of others in her palace matter to her more! She considers their lives equal to her own in intrinsic value, and on top of that, she prizes the company of the shu’arā’ in her court (intangible value:
2). As the most powerful being in Qal’at as-Saḥāb (save one), she’ll readily and willingly take an arrow for any of them. Total value: 6. Freedom. However, more than her own life—more, in fact, than the lives of her shu’arā’—Milāḥ cherishes her liberty (intangible value: 4, intrinsic value: 4). Many genies are willing to perform magic as part of an exchange of favors, or asa gift freely given, but no genie wants to be used. Unfortunately, some people would rather go to the trouble of capturing a genie and forcing it to serve them (operational value: 4) than go to the trouble of making friends with one. (You may have met people like that. If so, I’m sorry.) Total value: 12. Every genie dreads being captured and subjugated by an unscrupulous shā‘ir. To be forced to use one’s magic in servitude to another is humiliation; to be imprisoned in between such occasions is torment. Milāḥ’s freedom is her most valuable asset, and the threat she must protect it against is anyone who’s discovered how to ensnare a genie. She’s most vulnerable when she walks the earth; as long as she remains in Qal’at as-Saḥāb, she’s relatively safe, but her liberty is still not something to take chances with. While she’s willing to stand between a foe and the guests in her palace, she expects in turn that all the power of Qal’at as-Saḥāb will be brought to bear against anyone who shows up with an iron flask. As for the rest of her assets, aside from her own life and the lives of her favored guests, no one’s likely to have any interest in them but thieves—and they’d have to know there was something to steal in order to steal them. That’s still a risk, however, since a certain kind of mind hears the phrase “genie palace” and immediately turns to thoughts of burglary. Out of all Milāḥ’s material assets, the oud al-Mawsū‘ī is both the most valuable and the most vulnerable, since she brings it out to hear it played. On these occasions, she has to change up her security a bit—not signi cantly, but enough that the oud performances are private a airs. She would grieve the loss of that instrument. After the oud comes her sword, al-Hawjā’. She carries it on her person whenever she’s outand about; while it’s out in the open most of the time, it also serves as its own warning against attempting to swipe it. Her attachment to it
isn’t sentimental (mostly), but if she were to lose it, it would be a sign that a whole lot more was about to go very wrong. Next it’sa three-way tie: the lives of her court favorites, her collection of pact gifts, and her nest and rarest magic items. If intrinsic value is used as the rst tie-breaker, the shu’arā’ come out in front. Whom might Milāḥ need to protect them against? For starters, anyone who’s come to threaten her, because they’ll be in the way. Beyond that, however, not much comes to mind. Envious rivals? Unlikely, frankly. Enemy djinn? Why would they care? Still, the shu’arā’ are vulnerable, since they have free run of the palace, at least the parts that aren’t restricted, and Milāḥ would grieve their deaths as well. On the ip side, they can, to an extent, take part in their own defense. The value of the pact gifts is mainly intangible; the value of the very rare magic items is half monetary, half operational, and more a function of a thief’s estimation than her own. So Milāḥ is going to put more emphasis on defending the pact gifts, the loss of which would hurt. She’ll spend a little more e ort protecting the very rare magic items than she does protecting herself, but only because of how tempting a lure they are. Now comes another tie: her own life vs. rare magic items. Well, that’s a nobrainer. She’s going to protect herself. She can’t enjoy the magic items if she’s dead—and she can also replace them if they’re taken. There’s no special attachment here, and in fact if she’s genuinely worried for herself or her guests in the palace, she’ll o er up the rare magic items to buy an enemy o — although she’ll o er uncommon items and money rst. (Not the gems, though. Why not? Because a 1,000 gp gem is the material component needed for the spell planar binding. Why in Gehenna would she give one of those to a known threat?) DEFENSE Qal’at as-Saḥāb isa marvel: a palace and surrounding walled garden built on the back of a living storm (use the elder tempest stat block from Mordenkainen’s; the living storm is lenticular rather than serpentine in shape, is 600 feet across, and can’t attack upward). The storm cruises at an altitude of 10,000 to 30,000 feet, never descending to earth. Milāḥ alights and returns by casting wind walk,
which speeds her travel and disguises her as she ies. The magic of the castle allows all within its walls to breathe normally, but the air outside is dangerously thin and cold (see Dungeon Master’s Guide, chapter 5, “Wilderness Survival”; treat altitudes above 18,000 feet as frigid water). The skies above the castle are always clear and calm, with the exception of a number of small, u y white clouds that driftacross the grounds, providing areas of shade when the sun beats down. Within 5 to 10 miles (it varies) of the living storm, visibility is always lightly obscured, gusting winds mess with ranged attacks, and the sound of rain interferes with hearing. Within 1 mile, the living storm can use its Screaming Gale legendary action to batter would-be intruders. Within 120 feet, it can strike them with lightning. Unauthorized visitors will have to get above the cloud layer fast—faster than the living storm can rise to match altitude with them—if they want to make it to the wall in one piece. The 20-foot-high walls surrounding Qal’at as-Saḥāb are octagonal, as is the palace proper. They’re a boundary marker rather than a security feature, since anything that can y to the height of a castle in the sky can easily ascend another 20 feet to get over a wall. However, each corner of the wall is topped by a slender, 120-foot-tall watchtower, where a lesser djinni (see appendix B) stands guard. Through clear skies, they can spot approaching creatures from 40 miles away; they can also see up to 300 feet into the storm below them. The palace grounds are a lush formal garden full of owering plants, fruit and nut trees, pools and fountains (the water pumped up from the storm clouds below), grassy lawns, pergolas, and gazebos. These grounds are enjoyed not just by the occupants of the palace but also by an assortment of animals. These animals possess more than normal intelligence (add 6 to the Intelligence scores in their stat blocks and +3 to their Intelligence modi ers) and will run to Milāḥ if they encounter trespassers. Although they lack language, their behavior will clue her in that something’s awry.
RANDOM ENCOUNTERSIN QAL’ATAS-SAḤĀB GROUNDS Roll 1d20 each time a PC enters a new section of the garden. d20 Encounter 1–10 1 male gazelle (use the goat stat block, Small size, with Armor Class 11, Strength 10, and Dexterity 12), which Dashes away if approached 11 10 female gazelles (stats as above), which Dash away if approached 12–15 1 poisonous snake, which Bites once if approached to within 5 feet, then Dashes away 16–19 1 fox (AC 13, 2 hp, speed 30 feet/burrow 5 feet, Perception +3, Stealth +5, darkvision 60 feet, passive Perception 13, Keen Hearing, and a Bite attack with +5 to hit, dealing 1 piercing damage—see the adventure Icewind Dale: Rime of the Frostmaiden for other stats), which observes from hiding (DC 16 to detect), Dashing away if approached 20 1 ostrich (use the axe beak stat block, changing Beak attack to Kick), which Dashes away if approached The grounds are a controlled area, but because of the impossibility of channeling those who approach through a single gate—if they can get to Qal’at as-Saḥāb in the rst place, they can certainly y—the lesser djinn that guard the walls go on immediate alert as soon as they see anyone or anything approaching that they haven’t been told about in advance. They hold their posts, sounding the alarm if a suspected intruder approaches within 240 feet (at night, 120 feet —the maximum range of their darkvision) but not taking further aggressive action unlessan intruder crosses the wall. At that point they move to cut o the intruder’s approach, placing themselves between the intruder and the palace, and demand to know the reason for the intrusion. Each lesser djinn guard hasa horn and a speci c call, so thatall the others can identify which one is sounding an alarm. When one blows its horn, the two to its left and the two to its right y over to join it; the three on the far side of the castle stay where they are, just in case there’s a second incursion from the other direction. There’s a ninth lesser djinni, which usually guards the palace door, that may be available to provide backup if needed, but when Milāḥ has the oud al-Mawsū‘ī out and is listening to a performance, that lesser djinni is posted outside her audience chamber instead. If this lesser djinni does join the ght at the wall, it relieves the most badly wounded lesser djinni there, which Disengages and rushes into the palace to report to Milāḥ.
The palace is marginally more controlled than the grounds, but only by virtue of having only one entrance and exit, which is guarded by lesser djinni No. 9. Guests of Milāḥ can move about the grounds and most of the palace freely, with tabs kept only on whether they’re inside or outside. Milāḥ even keeps the doors to her audience chamber open most of the time. However, her own rooms and her treasury are in a restricted area accessible only from her audience chamber and with her permission—which she generally doesn’t give. The door to the restricted areas of the palace is accessed from a gallery overlooking Milāḥ’s audience chamber, 40 feet up, to which there are no stairs; it can be reached only by ying. The door can’t be opened from the outside, only from the inside. Its three-pointed arch shape features a ne tracery pattern at the top that allows Milāḥ or one of her lesser djinn to pass through by casting gaseous form. Nothing else larger than an insect can t through the holes. Beyond that, both her rooms and her treasury are reached from the same hallway. The door to the treasury has a hard-to-pick lock. Inside the rst room of the treasury, where she keeps her gold, silver, gems, and uncommon magic items, there are also several hardwood chests, 2 feet wide and deep, 3 feet long, and weighing just shy of 300 poundsapiece. Each of these chests contains one of her rare magic itemsand is protected by a four-dial combination lock that’s very hard to pick. Past Milāḥ’s apartments and the rst room of her treasury, there are two more secure rooms, protected not only by very hard-to-pick pin tumbler locks but also doors of axebreaker wood that weigh 1,200 pounds each (DC 25 Strength check to open—pro ciency in Athletics doesn’t help). The one adjoining her rooms is where she keeps her collection of pact gifts; the one adjoining the outer treasury is where she keeps her very rare magic items. In the latter room, the oud al-Mawsū‘ī is stored in a sturdy ebony cabinet with an extraordinarily intricate pin tumbler lock that’s nearly impossible to pick—and there’s no key. Other than the fabled master locksmith who made it, no one but Milāḥ has ever seen the key. Whenever she wants to open the case, she casts creation and makes the key anew out of adamantine. One minute later, the key melts into shadow.
When Milāḥ receives warning of an assault in progress, she immediately tells all but two of her four to eight shu’arā’ (see shā‘ir, appendix B) to seek shelter in the upstairs library and begins casting conjure elemental, just in case she’s going to need an extra bodyguard. The spell takes 1 minute to cast, so she needs to act quickly. When she’s nished, she stands guard in her audience chamber outside the entry to the restricted areas of Qal’at as-Saḥāb. If she was enjoying an oud performance, she orders the lesser djinni outside the door to take the oud and put it away before she begins casting the spell. After performing this task, the lesser djinni heads back outside to ful ll its reserve function. If and when a ght ensues, Milāḥ tries to stay in front, interposing herself between her enemies and her shu’arā’, while the shu’arā’ stay several steps behind, supporting Milāḥ by trying to neutralize any enemy or enemies engaging her in melee. At the same time, the conjured air elemental wheels around, taking out more distant threats to the shu’arā’ ( rst) or Milāḥ (second). But Milāḥ isn’t going to start that ght: When her palace is invaded, her rst inclination is to try to talk the invaders into leaving by buying them o , seeking a bargain that serves both her own interest and theirs. That parley ends only when it comes to a satisfactory resolution, the invaders insult her beyond
forbearance, or it becomes clear that the invaders’ goal is to capture her. In the nal case, Milāḥ, her shu’arā’, and her air elemental all focus their attacks on whichever of her enemies has the means to imprison her; if she can manage it, she’ll plane shift that enemy someplace they won’t enjoy at all, where they’ll pose no further threat to her—Carceri, maybe, or Pandemonium. It’s not terribly likely that anyone will invade Qal’at as-Saḥāb solely to come after a shā‘ir, but if they do, and if that shā‘ir isn’t one of the ones aiding Milāḥ in her defense, she and her elemental will pursue them, attempting to run them down and subdue them before they reach their target. These attacks will be nonlethal; punishment in earnest will come later, following a trial. That trial will be something of a kangaroo court, but she’ll at least give the intruders a chance to explain themselves before deciding what to do with them at last. The same is true if she catches anyone in the act of breaking into her treasury, with one exception: If they’ve come for the oud al-Mawsū‘ī, they’ve made a huge mistake. If the defense of Qal’at as-Saḥāb fails—or if attackers kill the living storm, causing the whole castle to fall—Milāḥ will order all lesser djinn within earshot to sound a special call on their horns, one that announces evacuation of the palace. Upon hearing that call, all her shu’arā’ will retire to her audience chamber as fastas they can, while the surviving lesser djinn do their best to delay the attackers. If she’s not seriously wounded, Milāḥ will join the delay operation long enough to give the shu’arā’ time to reach the chamber, then withdraw there herself. Upon arriving, she’ll slam and bar the door, then begin casting wind walk, including all the shu’arā’ in the e ect of the spell. When the spell is complete, she’ll abandon Qal’at as-Saḥāb and whisk her shu’arā’ o to a safe location. Then she’ll start gathering resources with which to retake the castle in the sky, provided it still ies.
BLUE DRAGON LAIR Minimum recommended party: five level 20 PCs The joining of East and West along the Sa ron Way brought new delights to both—and abundant riches not just to the merchants who plied the road but to the cities that sheltered them. Of the latter, Shahr-e Kariz, situated over an aquifer that made ita reliable and plentiful source of water in the otherwise arid land, was one of the most magni cent. But its magni cence attracted the attention of the blue dragon Shokuhetarsnak, who slew the khan and his family and took over the city and the surrounding lands. Her reign of terror has placed the merchant caravans of the Sa ron Way in an impossible position: If they avoid Shahr-e Kariz, they run a severe risk of running out of water in the vast Desert of Red Sands. If they pass near and they don’t pay obeisance—and tribute—to Shokuhetarsnak, they’ll get eaten. However, even those who do acknowledge her authority occasionally get eaten anyway. She’s unpredictable like that. ASSETS Looooooooooot. Shokuhetarsnak was already an adult dragon with a respectable hoard when she took over Shahr-e Kariz. Since then, she’s increased it with tribute extorted from traveling merchants and the city’s nobility and citizenry. The gold, platinum, and gemstones alone amount to nearly a ton (monetary value: 4). The very rare and legendary magic items would possess enormous operational value to anyone who wrested them away (operational value: 4), and the gems and art objects are both magni cent and historically important (intangible value: 4). The vain and greedy dragon would never dream of parting with a single coin of it (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 16.
Dominion. Almost as important to Shokuhetarsnak as her loot is the fact that she holds Shahr-e Kariz—and, by extension, the entire Sa ron Way —in a death grip. Her command over the city brings her not only tremendous wealth (economic value: 4) but also the clout to summon people of interest to her court to entertain her and carry out her commands (operational value: 2). It also feeds her insatiable ego (intangible value: 4). A manifestation of her innate territoriality, Shokuhetarsnak’s dominion over Shahr-e Kariz is an abstract asset that doesn’t neatly fall into the category of loot, lore, or life but nevertheless has major intrinsic value to her (3). Total value: 13. “Pets.” The lives of the bards, magicians, sages, and artists who grace Shokuhetarsnak’s court are in no way comparable in value to her own, but they are worth something (intrinsic value: 1), because they please her (intangible value: 3). She’ll take steps to ensure that they aren’t inadvertently killed… or rescued. Total value: 4. Shokuhetarsnak. The now-ancient blue dragon values no other life as highly as her own (intrinsic value: 4), and her narcissism only in ates that value further (intangible value: 4). Total value: 8. Shokuhetarsnak is vain but not foolish. Other creatures as powerful as she is might imagine that they had no rivals capable of challenging them, but she has enough sense to know that threats don’t always come from the powerful. Her sway over Shahr-e Kariz is so strong—and dragons’ terrain preferences so ingrained—that she doesn’t need to worry about whether another dragon might try to knock her o her throne. No blue or brass dragon within a hundred miles can match her strength, and no ancient dragon of any other color is interested in what she’s got. The far likelier threat to her hoard is a band of master thieves; to her dominion, an organized rebellion; to her collection of “pets,” a rescue mission mounted by self-styled heroes; to her life, a champion wielding some ancient weapon of legend. She therefore hungers for information as much as for gold and maintains a far-reaching network of spies and assassins to uncover and eliminate threats before they can ever get near her.
Of her various assets, her captive savants are the most vulnerable: She must roam far to feed herself, and these hunting trips are obviously the best time for them to try to escape, or for others to try to free them. She won’t chance that, so while she’s gone, their quarters in the castle are locked down. Shokuhetarsnak’s wealth and power are immense, and while she’ll never let so much as a copper fals out of her clutches, she allows her tax collectors to replenish the city’s treasury rst before giving her her cut—a shrewd choice, since it not only keeps the city shining but also buys a legion of civil servants, soldiers, spies, and assassins for her to command. It also lets her build a velvet cage around her “pets,” lessening their determination to escape. DEFENSE The lair defense of Shokuhetarsnak, an ancient blue dragon, begins far beyond the limits of Shahr-e Kariz, in the other cities along the Sa ron Way where she has spies—both snoops and plants (see appendix B). Her snoops blend in as marketplace beggars and performers, inn sta , and handlers of draft animals. When their suspicions are raised, they pass word along to plants, who insinuate themselves into the suspect characters’ travel plans. Interesting company on a long journey through the desert is hard to nd, and travelers are usually grateful, if not outright desperate, to nd it. Any given caravan on the Sa ron Way also contains a couple of snoops and at least one plant. Of course, these spies send word to their dragon mistress of the strangers’ arrival—and everything else about them—as soon as they arrive in Shahr-e Kariz. Shokuhetarsnak hunts by day (her darkvision doesn’t reach far enough for her to hunt in the dark with it), ranging far and wide, and she can spot approaching caravans from as far as 40 miles away with her own keen eyes. When she does, she often ies toward them to test their reactions. Experienced caravaners know to keep moving forward and not to panic: Those who’ve sworn their allegiance to the dragon are expected to humbly accept her will, and freaking out is a sign that you haven’t done that. So is drawing weapons at her approach. If a caravan proceeds calmly, she may move on, satis ed, or she may land, sni around, ask questions, and demand various pro forma shows of
submission. If it speeds up, stops, or scatters, she’ll attack, relenting only if someone in the caravan has the presence of mind to o er surrender.
The dragon has more spies in the city itself, mostly snoops who report to Shokuhetarsnak’s spymaster. He, in turn, passes the intelligence he receives to the commandant of the city guard, who relays instructions to the troops through a system of horn calls. Every guard patrol in Shahr-e Kariz includes a bugler, whose calls convey information to other patrols within earshot. The Desert of Red Sands isactually more rocky than sandy, but there’s more than enough particulate matter around for a strong wind to kick up a visionobscuring dust storm. The sands are also deep enough to conceal predatory ankhegs. They rarely approach caravans, but they pose a serious danger to small groups cutting across the desert, as do giant scorpions, bands of nomadic tlincallis (see Volo’s), and tribes of thri-kreen. On the plus side, the tlincallis and thri-kreen are implacable enemies and ght each other whenever they cross paths, giving victims of one or the other a window of opportunity for escape; on the minus side, if Shokuhetarsnak is out hunting, their clashes draw her attention. The deterrents increase in number as one approaches Shahr-e Kariz. Lightning crisscrosses the thick, dark storm clouds that perpetually blanket the skies within 5 miles of the city; stray bolts strike the ground at random from time to time. Beneath these skies, dust devils whirl, and the sandy, rocky ground is riddled with hidden sinkholes. Except during dust storms, a troop of guards mounted on riding horses conducts reconnaissance patrols outside the city walls and intercepts any person or group of people spotted approaching the city separate from a caravan. The city, which climbs up the side of a hill, is surrounded by an octagonal curtain wall of dressed stone, 40 feet high and 10 feet thick, with battlements along the top and bartizans at the corners. The entrance zigzags and contains three portcullises and three pairs of stout wooden double doors. The main roads through the dense city are broad and straight, but none of them leads directly from the gate to the castle, which has an additional curtain wall of its own. In addition, the only access route to the castle (other than a couple of posterns that must be opened from inside) leads through a barbican that extends forward 150 feet from the inner wall. When Shokuhetarsnak learns of an incursion attempt,
she perches atop the castle wall, facing down the neck of the barbican, and prepares to zot her canalized enemies as they enter. The city guard is commanded by a commandant (see appendix B for garrison o cer stat blocks) and divided into four companies, each commanded by a captain: two companies of regular guard troops (armed with scimitarsand light crossbows), one company of mounted guard troops, and one company of elite Dragon Guards (see appendix B). The Dragon Guards protect the castle, the regular guards protect the city, and the mounted guards patrol outside. At any given time during the day, thirty guards, overseen by a lieutenant, in three groups of ten, each led by a sergeant, keep watch on the walls and at the gate, while another one hundred twenty patrol the several quarters of the city, ready to respond to any incursion. The day is divided into two shifts—dawn to noon and noon to dusk—with one guard captain on duty during each shift, and an equal number of o -duty guards can be mobilized as a reserve to assist those on duty, under the command of their own captain. The same number of guards are on duty at night, but the day shift guards must sleep then and can’t come to their aid, and a lieutenant gives the orders. In similar fashion, each day shift sees thirty Dragon Guards on duty in the castle: eighteen around the bailey, six guarding Shokuhetarsnak’s “pets,” and six in reserve, with another thirty awake but o -duty guards available to assist. The guards on night shift are on their own. The captain of the Dragon Guards gives orders during the day; a lieutenant is in charge at night. A mounted recon patrol comprises ten guards (armed with scimitars and shortbows) on riding horses; there are four such patrols outside the city at any given time during the day, each assigned to a di erent area. They approach suspicious characters to a distance ofabout 80 feetand issue a command to halt. Two approach halfway to question the new arrivals about their business while all but one of the rest draw their bows and make ready to attack at any sign of hostile movement. The last one readies their horn.
If the answers they get don’t add up, they’ll move to surround and apprehend the suspects, escort them to the city, jail them, and interrogate them. However, if the suspects ght back in a manner that shows they’re a real threat, the mounted guards gallop back to the city, sounding the alarm, which is picked up and repeated by the guards on the city wall. When they hear horns sound, the civilians of Shahr-e Kariz get o the streets: No one wants to be struck by a stray crossbow bolt or get fried by a ruthless lightning discharge. Patrolling guards mobilize toward whichever quarter of the city intruders have been spotted in, with constant updates provided by horn call, and mass together. If the intruders are hiding amid the narrow streets, the guards spread out along the main streets, no more than 160 feet apart, to surround the quarter and apprehend them when they emerge. Meanwhile, if it’s daytime and reinforcements have been called up, they set up at the nearest battle position to where the intruders were seen last, between them and the castle, and function as a reserve—moving in as a hard-hitting melee unit when defense transitions to o ense, or delaying the enemy if the main force must withdraw. The castle is a restricted area. The bailey inside the castle gate is the Dragon Guards’ main battle area, where they shower intruders with crossbow bolts from the wallsabove and from embrasures in the front wall of the palace. Their reserve is stationed in the palace courtyard. The entrance to the palace is a wooden double door, barred on the inside, and the front-facing wing consists of guardrooms and barracks. The quarters and workrooms of servants are on one side of the interior courtyard; guest quarters, including the heavily guarded quarters of Shokuhetarsnak’s “pets,” are on the other. The “guest wing” is built around a T-shaped hallway. The double door from the palace courtyard to this wing is barred from outside when it’s not open; the doors from individual quarters onto the hallway have elaborate warded locks, which were made by skilled locksmiths at Shokuhetarsnak’s command and are di cult to pick. When the dragon isaround, her “pets” are permitted to wander the palace at will during the day, but at night and when she’s away, they’re locked in their rooms, and the door to the wing is closed, barred, and guarded.
Opposite the palace entrance is a large iwan—once the court of the khan, now the court of the dragon, where she basks while her o cers deliver reports and her prisoners entertain her with their erudition. The Dragon Guards, who ght to the death, make their last stand in front of it.
Not Shokuhetarsnak, though. No one dares intrude on the dragon’s space, so no one gets close enough to examine the demolished living quarters of the former khan, left unrepaired as a reminder and a warning. If they did, they might see through the permanent major image spell, cast by one of her nowdeceased “pets,” that concealsa 20-foot-wide hole in the oor with an illusion of collapsed walls and splintered furniture (DC 16 to see through the illusion). This hole, dug decadesago by laborers who were devoured after they completed their work, leads to Shokuhetarsnak’s true lair, in an abandoned gallery of a turquoise and copper mine in the hills behind Shahr-e Kariz. The adit that runs between the palace and the mine has two segments that meet at a slight angle; each segment is a straight passage that, again, allows the dragon to aim her breath weapon directly at intruders, who have nowhere else to go. It also leads to the top of the gallery, so anyone who follows the dragon in is confronted with a two-story drop at the end. The gallery, mined out by the room-and-pillar method, is a checkerboard network of 30-foot-wide passages separated by 90-foot-wide square pillars. The ceiling is 45 feet high, giving Shokuhetarsnak plenty of clearance to y around inside. The dragon likes the feeling of bedding down on sand, and the oor of the gallery is covered with a thick layer of it. It serves to hide her hoard, but beyond that, she can also summon up clouds of it to protect herself; in addition, she can cause lightning to leap between the mine pillars (which are marvelously conductive, thanks to their copper content), and the ceiling is pretty close to failing. One side of the gallery—the side leading to the rest of the mine, which is still in operation—is caved in. In a pinch, she can burrow through the rubble (A) and escape through the active part of the mine. Any such retreat is temporary, however: She’ll circle back around to the castle and ambush her foes on their way out. RANDOM ENCOUNTERSIN THE DESERT OF RED SANDS Roll 1d20 for every hour of travel. On an 18 or higher, roll 1d8 if more than 5 miles from Shahr-e Kariz, 1d8 + 5 if within 5 miles. d / d
1d8/1d8 + 5 Encounter 1–2 1d4 + 1 tlincallis, hostile 3–4 3d4 + 10 thri-kreen (weapons variant), indifferent; they won’t approach closer than 30 feet unless social interaction turns them either friendly or hostile 5–6 1 giant scorpion 7 1 ankheg, buried under 5 feet of sand 8 A strong wind picks up, creating a dust storm. For the next 1d4 hours, all creatures have disadvantage on Wisdom (Perception) checks that rely on sight. 9–10 Recon patrol of 10 guards on riding horses (see text) 11 1 dust devil (use the air elemental stat block, speed 50 feet, no flying speed, Intelligence and Charisma 1 [-5]) 12 Lightning strikes uncomfortably close. Roll 1d4. On a 1–3, the bolt strikes about 30 feet away; all characters are deafened for 1 minute. On a 4, the bolt strikes in the middle of the party. All characters are deafened for 1 minute, and each creature within 5 feet of the lightning strike must make a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw, taking 4d10 lightning damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a success. 13 If PCs are traveling with a caravan, no encounter. If they’re traveling independently, they encounter a hidden sinkhole. The sinkhole is detected with a successful DC 20 Wisdom (Perception) check. If it isn’t detected, the first creature to step on it must succeed on a DC 15 Dexterity saving throw or fall 1d6 × 10 feet into it.
LICH’S CRYPT Minimum recommended party: five level 20 PCs For ages, rugged Mount Jesaret has been thought of as orc territory— speci cally, the territory ofa tribe of brutal raiders called the Howling Storm. A few years ago, however, the raids suddenly ceased, and those daring enough to investigate the reason reported back, incredulously, that the orcs were building. A stone forti cation of some kind, with a tower. Strange, since no one would ever think of pursuing the Howling Storm up the mountain to attack them. Eventually, once the structure was nished, the orcs’ raids did resume, albeit with less frequency… and more apparent calculation. Were the Howling Storm orcs now deferring to the will of a chief, one with a more strategic mind? Yes, but not in the sense that people initially thought. The glory-seeking orcs had fallen under the sway of a ruthless, scheming, egomaniacal wizard named Zviad Uk’vdavi, a necromancer exiled by the pious empire of Propontis and ostracized by his fellow wizards in the College of Anacalypsis. No… not a wizard. A lich. With many goals, but one inconceivably ambitious and yet wondrously petty: to pay back the ponti s of Propontis by killing their god. ASSETS Research library. Zviad considers information to be valuable in and of itself (intrinsic value: 4), and he’s been gathering research material for decades. His library includes texts on every school of magic, but most of all on necromancy, his focus of study. The texts contain all widely known and practiced illusion and evocation spells up to 3rd level, divination spells up to 6th level, and transmutation, conjuration, abjuration, enchantment, and necromancy spells up to 8th level. Additional notebooks and unbound manuscripts include the 9th-level spells astral
projection and imprisonment. At one time, this library was indispensable to Zviad’s work, but having internalized much of the information it holds, he relies on it slightly less now (operational value: 3). However, Zviad shelled out a lot of money to assemble his collection. If looted, the books in the library would command somewhere in the neighborhood of 1 million gp altogether, with the rarest texts accounting for 80 percent of that price (monetary value: 4). Total value: 11. Spellbooks. Not “spellbook”: Zviad lled his rst one completely some time ago and had to start a second book for his 8th- and 9th-level spells. Some of the spells in these books (e.g., major image and simulacrum) aren’t in his library; they were copied from scrolls. He doesn’t care about the theory behind them, only their applications. Unlike most wizards, Zviad doesn’t have a strong personal attachment to his spellbooks (intangible value: 1): He considers them a mere tool, albeit a necessary one (operational value: 4), as well asa slightly irksome reminder thateven he still has to study every day to remain in control of his arcane powers. But, like all lore, he considers their contents inherently important (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 9. Personal notes. In pursuit of his psychopathic aim of killing Morrow, the Lord of Dawn, Zviad has been conducting independent research into high-level necromancy, abjuration, and conjuration magic. These notes are an important part of his work, but they’re the product, not the tool, and he still has a way to go; the time to use them will come later (operational value: 2). He apprizes them as he does all lore (intrinsic value: 4), even more so because they’re the fruit of his own e ortand will (intangible value: 4). Total value: 10. Maps to arcane sites. Sometimes you have to travel for work. Many writings refer to lore whose whereabouts are no longer known with any certainty, because the fates that befell its authors or owners kept it from passing into other hands. But with enough time and determination— both of which Zviad has in spades—even a cold trail can be followed, and when you reach the end of it, a broken chain of custody usually means “ nders keepers.” Especially if you’re willing to, you know, commit
murder. Zviad is very willing to commit murder, and it’s paid o for him a few times, making these maps good investments (operational value: 3). Even when they haven’t paid o , knowing stu —especially stu other people don’t know—is still cool (intrinsic value: 4). Total value: 7. Material components. The stu of magic, the matrix that shapes magical energy, for which a nice sta or wand sometimes su ces, but not always. Zviad keeps a stockpile of diamond dust for nondetection and glyph of warding, incense for glyph, bottles of leaded ink for illusory script, gold dust for arcane lock, and such a large hoard of black onyx for create undead that it’s actually caused in ation in the semiprecious stone’s price across the continent. He also has a padded case containing forked rods tuned for interplanar travel to Morrow’s home plane, Elysium, along with the Astral Plane, the Penumbral, the Abyss, Acheron, Gehenna, Hades, and two other phantasmagorical, heretofore unheard-of planes, plus several tuned to the material plane; a scrying font; and a large cache of adamantine ingots, with which he’s experimenting in the hope of discovering the secret to personal invulnerability. The cost of all these materials is in the neighborhood of 50,000 gp (monetary value: 3). An arcanist of Zviad’s caliber needs this stu like a glassblower needs sand (operational value: 4). Total value: 7. Alchemy supplies. Zviad used to use these tools a lot in his research, but he’s moved on to other topics. Now he only uses them occasionally, to brew potions he likes to keep on hand (operational value: 1). Total value: 1. Potions. Speaking of which, Zviad’s potion cabinet generally contains a few potions of greater healing, a few potions of heroism, lots of potions of clairvoyance, and a single potion of invulnerability that he brewed in the process of his experimentation. Useful (operational value: 2), mainly because they let him enjoy the bene ts of magic without burning spell slots on it, but not valuable in any other way. Total value: 2. The Tome of Atrocity. A unique artifact that contains, among other loathsome lore, the secret formula for gaining eternal unlife through lichdom. Zviad, of course, has made use of this knowledge and continues
to follow other recipes in the book as well (operational value: 4). Valuable for the knowledge it contains (intrinsic value: 4) and for—well, you always remember your rst foray beyond the veil of mortality, not to mention your nal and irrevocable divorce from reason and decency (intangible value: 4). Total value: 12. Money. Magic is a lucrative line of work. As of this writing, Zviad’s treasury contains 74,000 gp and 54,000 pp (monetary value: 4). Total value: 4. Zviad. He’s so into himself, he’s made sure he’ll be around forever (intrinsic value: 4, intangible value: 4). Total value: 8. Soulward. And this is how he did it: a pyramidal box of blackwood, inlaid with silver runes and topped with a clear, awless, 10-carat diamond in an orichalcum setting, which houses Zviad’s soul (intrinsic value: 4; intangible value: 4). As long as it exists, Zviad is deathless. Destroy his body, and the soulward will cause a new one to coalesce before it a few days later (operational value: 4). The only way to rid the world of Zviad Uk’vdavi for good is to destroy his soulward, which requires a tricky, obscure combination of spells, not to mention possession of the soulward itself. Even so, the fact that it can be destroyed at all is the lich’s greatest vulnerability. Total value: 12. Zviad’s soulward is his most valuable and critical possession, but the Tome of Atrocity is a very close second, because it contains sensitive information that he doesn’t want to let fall into any other hands—including not just how to become a lich but also how to destroy a soulward. Zviad has a lot of enemies, foremost among them the religious authorities of Propontis and the wizards who once numbered him among their colleagues, but also rival necromancers who’d love to steal his secrets. He even has to protect the much-coveted Tome of Atrocity from theft by scheming extraplanar entities. He has his work cut out for him. The soulward he can keep hidden away by a variety of devious means, but Zviad needs to refer to the Tome of Atrocity—more and more often these days, it seems—which means he can’t just keep it in storage all the time. It has to be as secure when he takes it out as it is when he puts it away. That’s a major
constraint. The other problem is that the tome de es attempts to hold on to it. Place it in a wooden box, and the wood rots. Entomb it in stone, and the stone cracksand crumbles. Seal it under glass, and the glass shatters. Zviad keeps it in a case made ofan alloy of nine parts platinum to one part gold, which seems to be doing the trick (and, as a bonus, protects against locate object as well as lead does). Zviad’s research library is his next most valuable asset. It’s more vulnerable than the Tome of Atrocity, because there’s so much of it—six large cases, every shelf full—and when he does still need to look something up, he wants to be able to nd the relevant text right away. Unlike some things one might steal from a wizard, these books would be laughably easy to fence: There’s a huge demand for the knowledge they contain, at every level, and no one’s going to be hung up on where they came from. Now, granted, you have to have a lot of con dence to try to steal from a lich, and that con dence has to be justi ed; no garden-variety larcenist is going to get anywhere near Zviad’s library. But that simply means thatany thief who comes for Zviad’s books is going to be a master thief, and he has to protect them accordingly. That being said, he can a ord to lose the more common ones; they’re easy to replace, and he almost never needs to look things up in them anymore anyway. The rarer ones… yeah, it would be a problem if he lost those. Here’s the poser: Does he place them under extra protection, knowing that this will call attention to their presence and their value and attract a thief’s interest, or does he scatter them among his other books, counting on the books’ uniform appearance to camou age the rarest ones and force a thief to spend precious time assessing the value of each one? After the library come Zviad’s research notes. The considerations around these unbound papers are the same as those around his rarer books, with one di erence: They’re not going to be mistaken for textbooks of magic, so they can’t be hidden in plain sight. Illusion magic can pull some weight here, but a spellcaster strong enough to risk a lich’s wrath will have ways of seeing past that, so other means must be found. Nextare Zviad’s spellbooks. These have to come out for 1 ½ to 2 hoursevery time he needs to memorize a new set of spells for the day, and they’re vulnerable when he does—albeit less vulnerable than they’d be if he weren’t right there.
Still, they need to be kept locked away when he’s not using them. Anyone who’d come at Zviad or his property for any other reason will also be interested in his spellbooks, so they’ll require considerable protection, too. After these, Zviad’s most valuable asset is himself. We’re not talking about his life, strictly speaking, because that’s already gone. We’re talking more about his convenience (being wrecked and reconstituted is unpleasant, and it takes days to recover from, and who knows what shenanigans any invaders formidable enough to take down a lich might get up to in his absence?) and his capacity to act. To be more speci c, he might return from his temporary nonexistence to nd that his attackers have occupied his crypt and are standing around him waiting to clap him into magical restraints. This scenario is well worth preventing. Beyond these items, Zviad’s assets are signi cantly less critical. Maps to arcane sites? He’s already visited and ransacked many of them. If someone gets to one he hasn’t been to rst, that will be extremely annoying, and he’ll want to retaliate against them, but it probably won’t be a catastrophe. Material components? Expensive, but mostly replaceable. Money? He’s got a lot of it, he likes having it, but no one’s busting into a lich’s crypt just to clean out the co ers. Potions? He made them; he can make more. Alchemy equipment? Might as well itemize the bucket in the well while we’re at it. DEFENSE Zviad Uk’vdavi’s defense of his assets begins far beyond the boundaries of his lair—and long before his enemies even begin to plot against him. It begins with spies. Grimaldo Rialto, a diviner, is Zviad’s spymaster. He oversees a network of more than three hundred snoops (see appendix B) in Lygopolis, the capital of Propontis, and other cities with prominent colleges of magic. These snoops are under orders to inform him of the emergence of powerful individuals—in particular mages, clerics, paladins, and worldly political gures—and keep him apprised of their doings, so that he can assess what kind of risk they might pose to Zviad.
Any PC who reaches level 11 or above pops up on Grimaldo’s radar. As soon as he starts to believe their power may eventually rival Zviad’s, he sends an undercover agent to get close to them. But Grimaldo’s plants aren’t ordinary plants, as described in appendix B. They include Ephialte, a night hag, and Millevolti, a doppelgänger. If Grimaldo thinks the notable personages are susceptible to corruption and might be turned to Zviad’s cause, he sends Ephialte. If he believes they’re likely to become enemies of Zviad, he sends Millevolti. If he’s unsure, or if the personages vary in their corruptibility, he may send both agents and order them to instigate divisions in the group. The best outcome is if he can get the rising stars to undermine one another before they ever pose a danger to Zviad. (Ephialte and Millevolti won’t hesitate to point ngers at each other—“Are you sure you can trust that one?”—if the tactic seems likely to tip the scales. Even if one of the agents gets burned, the targets will trust the other one that much more.) By the time the PCsare level 15 or 16, Grimaldo will have made up his mind about them already and begun sending assassins to take them out, one per target, if he’s decided he can’t win them over. If one attempt fails, he’ll try again. And again. It’s war now. Meanwhile, when the potential rivals’ attentions are focused elsewhere, Grimaldo’s plants will swipe personal items from them—or, better yet, locks of hair or ngernail trimmings—and send them to Grimaldo, who’ll pass them along to Zviad for scrying purposes. From time to time thereafter, Zviad will look in on them himself to see what they’re up to. The rst time he hears his name in their mouths, he’ll start preparing to destroy them himself, examining them for weaknesses and studying and memorizing spells that target those weaknesses. Through Grimaldo and his agents, he’ll sprinkle phony clues to lead his foes to their destruction. II Zviad’s thoroughness in neutralizing future threats doesn’t mean he’s indi erent to present ones. When he was exiled from Propontis, he took refuge on Mount Jesaret. From there, he combined shock and awe with mass suggestion to impress the Howling Storm orcs and win their loyalty. Having secured the lower reaches of the mountainside, he then did the same with the goliath clans closer to the peak and a tribe of duergar who dwelt within the
mountain. Together, these groups of minions built his stone redoubt at an elevation of nearly 13,000 feet, well above the tree line. The Howling Storm orcs continue to control the slopes of Mount Jesaret between 5,000 and 10,000 feet of elevation. In patrols of ten orc scouts (see appendix B), they’ve established several dozen observation posts that overlook the trail leading up the mountain, ranging from simple dirt embankments and piles of boulders to brush-pile blinds to solid two-story watchtowers of stone and timber. From these posts, they watch for trespassers, tail them if possible, and occasionally engage in aggressive reconnaissance—especially after trespassers have set o one of their noisy traps. When a creature steps on one of these traps, it makes a loud rattling sound along with an attack roll at +8, dealing 2d10 piercing damage and grappling the target on a hit; breaking free requires a DC 15 Strength check. The orcs know there’s no reason for merchants or pilgrims, for instance, to be ascending the mountain, so in the event of a parley, most cover stories won’t fool them. If climbers rest overnight at any of the most promising campsite locations (marked on the map at 6,000, 8,000, and 10,000 feet), an orc patrol will be sure to spy them and assault them during the night. Zviad’s tower is surrounded by a 40-foot-high battlemented curtain wall with watchtowers spaced every 120 feet. Although a trail leads to an area of at, open ground in front of the wall, there’s no gate. On the rare occasions that Zviad’s goliath guards come and go, they use a postern on the upper side of the wall. Zviad and his lieutenants (the spymaster Grimaldo plus an illusionist, an evoker, and a necromancer who all reside at the forti ed tower, along with Merilistra, an arcanaloth hired to collect magical components and items for Zviad) use a teleportation circle both for travel and to receive supplies. The outer, aboveground portion of Zviad’s lair is a controlled area that includes the day and night guard barracks (A); a smithy (B); the residences of Zviad’s lieutenants (C); and the teleportation circle, the treasury, and rooms where the lich meets with his agents and minions (D). The doors to these buildings have arcane locks that open for Zviad, his lieutenants, and (in the case of the barracks) the guards. In addition, the door to the treasury has a symbol of Pain inscribed upon it, triggered when anyone unauthorized touches it. Sixteen
goliath guards are on duty at any given time during the day, commanded by a goliath captain (see appendix B for stat blocks), with sixteen more guards back at the barracks, available to be called up if needed; at night, the wall and bailey are guarded by eight wights. The rest of Zviad’s lair isa restricted area, accessible only through a barbicanlike gate that leads into the mountain. A windowless tower rises above the mountain within the walls; it has no aboveground entrance. Beneath the mountain, at the end of the barbican’s neck, is a wide-open chamber, 160 feet long and 30 feet wide, with a 30-foot-high vaulted ceiling, which must be crossed to enter Zviad’s crypt. Eight braziers ll the air with toxic fumes: When a creature enters the chamber for the rst time or starts its turn in the fumes, it takes 6d10 poison damage on a failed DC 15 Constitution saving throw or half as much damage on a successful one. A strong wind disperses the fumes until initiative count 20 of the next round, but unless a brazier is extinguished, it keeps producing more, in 5-foot-radius increments round by round. The area within the fumes is lightly obscured.
On each side of the chamber isanother battlemented wall, beneath which are barred cages. The battlementsare lined with twelve wights, six on each side; the cages are packed with zombies, forty-eight on each side. Hovering above the door at the far end of the chamber is Naax-Razaralk, a death tyrant that Zviad dominated, then placed under a 9th-level geas, compelling it to come with him and guard the door to the restricted portion of his lair. (Defying the geas wouldn’t cause Naax-Razaralk anything worse than a bad headache, but Zviad has promised the death tyrant a part in his future conquests, and because the death tyrant is charmed inde nitely, it nds the promise persuasive.) All of these guardians are immune to the poison fumes. No one gets through this chamber except Zviad. Ifanyone enters withoutan escort from the lich, the death tyrant attacks with its eye rays, and the wights start shooting; moreover, as soon as anyone reaches the midpoint of the chamber, the wights pull levers that open the cages below them, and the zombies start pouring out. Naax-Razaralk’s Negative Energy Cone projects over an elliptical area, hitting the oor 10 feet in front of the death tyrant, the side walls 15 feet in front of it, and the far wall up to 10 feet above the oor. The undead aberration never leaves its post, 10 feet above the exit door. The guardians of this chamber can’t see invisible creatures, but Zviad has hung hooded lanterns above the battlements 30 feet, 80 feet, and 130 feet inside the door, brightly illuminating the whole chamber—and the middle pair of lanterns are lanterns of revealing, so anyone who tries to ghost their way past Naax-Razaralk gets made 60 to 70 feet in. When the intruders are in disarray, the wights throw ropes over the battlements and slide down to the oor below to engage in melee. The guardians ght until they’re destroyed; they never retreat. If trespassers survive their encounter with the chamber’s guardians, they nd not only that the door to Zviad’s crypt is locked (with a very hard-to-pick lock) and sealed with an arcane lock but that it’s also inscribed with a glyph of warding containing a 5th-level fireball spell. Sometimes the classics are the best. (All the spells protecting Zviad’s lair have saving throw DCs of 23.)
The door leads into the windowless tower that stands above the mountain. The tower is round, with stone stairs ascending around its interior wall. It’s 25 feet in diameter, the ceiling is 100 feet high, and there’sa sphere of annihilation hovering in the center of the tower, 60 feet above the oor. The entire tower is a complicated trap. At the center of the tower’s oor is a glyph of warding containing reverse gravity. At the center of its ceiling is a glyph of warding containing black tentacles. Fifteen feet from the top of the stairs is a proximity-triggered glyph of warding on the wall (E), containing a 5th-level thunderwave. The payo for making it to the top of the stairs in one piece is… an empty room. Nothing up there at all. Zviad is tickled by the knowledge that intruders will waste incalculable time scrutinizing every corner of this room for invisible objects and creatures, secret doors, mechanisms, anything that might give this room some purpose or meaning. It has none, other than to mess with them. Once upon a time, before he completed the ritual by which he became a lich, this was Zviad’s bedchamber. Now that he no longer sleeps, it amuses him to leave the room completely vacant. While every visual cue in the tower points upward, Zviad’s crypt is downstairs—behind a secret door at the base of the tower that’s very hard to nd, enhanced by an arcane lock that allows only the lich to pass, and hidden behind a permanent major image that disguises it as just another part of the wall. Every part of Zviad’s lair beneath the oor of the tower is protected by a permanent private sanctum spell that prevents divination magic and teleportation, although it allows planar travel, and by a guards and wards spell that seals and hides every door. Zviad spends most of his time in the underground portion of his lair, accompanied by his bodyguard, Atzaparrak, a bound glabrezu. Atzaparrak (not its true name) is no dumb brute, though. It acts as a troubleshooter for Zviad, interceding when it looks like combat is about to ensue and attempting to talk would-be attackers into accepting a payo to walk away. The glabrezu is a skilled negotiator and will (at least ostensibly) make earnest e orts to satisfy the intruders’ interests, provided that they pledge not to harm or interfere with Zviad any further.
Atzaparrak is patient and disciplined, but it doesn’t like being bound any more than any other demon does, and if attackers make it a better o er—one that includes dispelling the planar binding spell upon it—the glabrezu will take their side against Zviad. Zviad knows it, and if that’s where negotiations seem to be heading, he’ll bamf away to someplace safer. The rst basement level of Zviad’s lair comprises his potion lab, conjuring chamber, necromancy workshop, and component repository. Three bodaks (see Volo’s) dwell in this last room, under permanent geasa not to leave. The second basement level includes the lich’s research library and scrying room. The scrying font isn’t protected, but it’s solid silver and weighs 200 pounds. The library, on the other hand, is tricked out with all sorts of unpleasantry. The door to the library is inscribed with two glyphs of warding, both triggered when anyone but Zviad touches the door. One of the glyphs contains the spell hold monster; the other contains maddening darkness (see Xanathar’s, chapter 3). Inside, the library is haunted by three allips (see Mordenkainen’s), the lingering spirits of votaries that Zviad used up and threw away. One block of basic enchantment textbooks for absolute beginners—of interest to no one who’s raiding a lich’s library for advanced arcane secrets—are all stuck together by their covers. When slid out from the library shelves, they reveal a panel with a hard-to-pick warded lock, enhanced by an arcane lock spell that in icts excruciating pain upon the hand of anyone who tries to open it without authorization. Behind this panel is a recess where Zviad keeps his research notesand spellbooks. The notesare written in illusory script, rolled up, and kept in pigeonholes. If either the spellbooks or the papers in the recess are touched by any creature other than Zviad—or by a mage hand spell—a glyph of warding is triggered, releasing the sickening radiance spell stored within. The third basement, the stairs down to which are behind another very hardto- nd secret door, contains the vault where Zviad keeps the Tome of Atrocity. The platinum-gold alloy case in which it’s stored is inscribed with no fewer than six magical booby traps. For rival wizards, there are glyphs of warding that release blindness and flesh to stone (Zviad’s sky-high spell save DC gives the latter spell a halfway reasonable chance of success) whenever the case is touched by a spellcaster. For extraplanar intruders, there are glyphs of magic circle (reversed,
to keep celestials, fey, and ends trapped within) and banishment, triggered whenever any aberration, celestial, fey, or end enters the room. And for holierthan-thou wannabe heroes, there’s a glyph containing disintegrate, triggered whenever a holy symbol is brought within 3 feet. Finally, if anyone but Zviad opens the case, they and all their companions are treated to a symbol of Fear. But what about the lich’s soulward? Pssh. Zviad Uk’vdavi would never be such a fool as to leave it where anyone else could even find it. The moment his life ended and his undeath began, Zviad cast sequester on his soulward, making it invisible and untargetable by divination spells. Then he cast arcanist’s magic aura to make it appear nonmagical to detect magic. Finally, he cast instant summons so that he could recall it to his hand at will. With those basic tasks out of the way, he set about fabricating a forked brass rod tuned precisely to a highly speci c vibrational frequency. When it was complete, he cast demiplane, creating a secret, private dimension far out along the w-axis from Mount Jesaret, with a hylic resonance matching that of the rod. The following day, he used that rod to plane shift to his new demiplane and cast demiplane again from there to create yet another demiplane, in which, nally, he deposited his soulward. III To distinguish the demiplanes clearly, the rst, transitional demiplane has walls of conventional dressed stone, while the second demiplane, where his soulward is stored, has walls of black onyx. Neither is lit. In case of emergency— that is, involuntary discorporation—Zviad has left a “go bag” in the onyx demiplane. This large satchel, which is stashed inside a lead-lined chest that also has sequester cast upon it, holds a backup spellbook containing his most-oftenprepared spells, plus teleport and magnificent mansion; a forked rod tuned to the material plane, for use with plane shift; a little velvet pouch containing the material components of magnificent mansion; a nonmagical crystal ball; a nofrills wand; a potion of greater healing; paper, ink, and quills; 300 gp and 30 pp; and an extra set of evil-overlord clothing, along with a deep-hooded traveling cloak. He’s also left braziers burning in all four corners of both demiplanes, consuming all the oxygen in them so that anyone who has to breathe begins su ocating immediately upon arrival in either.
I. Around the summer solstice, the sun never sets at this latitude;around the winter solstice, it never rises. In between, for simplicity’s sake,assume either 8, 12, or 16 hours of daylight, unless you have an almanac handy. II. Yes, this fact means that from here on out, the lich plot is going to take over your campaign. Isn’t it just like a lich to make the story all about him? III. Credit for these extravagantly devious measures goes to fellow DM Ian Wickles (https://www.reddit.com/r/DnD/comments/7t1xa7/the_actual_best_way_to_hide_a_phylactery).
APPENDIXA: MAGIC ITEMS The following items are designed for use in fth edition Dungeons & Dragons. They can, of course, be adapted to other game systems as well. ARCANE IMAGING SCANNER Wondrous item, rare This latticework arch made of lightweight metal, 8 feet tall, 5 feet wide, and 3 feet deep, requires bright light to function. It may be placed in sunlight (either direct or di used), or a bright light source may be mounted in a sconce on each side. When this light shines through the quartz crystals held within the lattice, a faintly glowing aura is projected around any visible creature or object beneath the arch that bears magic. The color of the aura indicates the school of magic, if any; magic unassociated with any school glows white. The scanner reveals objects hidden beneath clothing, leather, or most other materials, but an object enveloped in lead, gold, platinum, adamantine, or 1 inch ofany other common metal does not exhibit any aura. School of Magic Aura Color Abjuration Blue Conjuration Yellow Divination Green Enchantment Magenta Evocation Red Illusion Violet Necromancy Smoky gray Transmutation Orange ARGRABAN’S SPE CULAR GATE WAY Wondrous item, very rare This full-length, silver-framed mirror doubles as a portal into and out of a network of unearthly roads. As an action, a creature can speak the command
word and open the portal until the beginning of its next turn. While the portal is open, any Large or smaller creature may enter or exit through the gateway. Each gateway has its own unique command word that must be spoken to open it. When an invisible creature passes through an open gateway, it creates a momentary visual phenomenon that reveals its passage, although it doesn’t become fully visible. A creature moving between gateways crosses normal space twenty-one times as quickly as it moves normally and sees a warped, blurry vision of the world in which physical landmarks are visible but neither creatures nor details can be discerned. BEACON OF ATTRACTION Wondrous item, legendary Each beacon of attraction worksagainst a speci c kind of intelligent creature. Its enchantment causes creatures of this kind to feel an intense urge to approach the beacon while within 60 feet of it or able to see it, as if a ected by an antipathy/sympathy spell. Wisdom saving throws against the magic of the beacon are made against DC 18. CIRCLETOF MAGIC SUPPRESSION Wondrous item, very rare (requires attunement) This circlet is made of wrought iron, with an unevenly shaped piece of weatherworn limestone set into it like a jewel. It has 3 charges. While wearing it, you can use an action and expend 1 charge to cast antimagic field from it. The circlet regains 1d3 expended charges daily at dawn. LACQ UER OF DISSIMULATION Wondrous item, uncommon This clear, viscous coating, when applied to an object, makes the object give o an apparent aura of evocation or necromantic magic (your choice at time of purchase, or DM’s choice at time of discovery) to spells that allow a creature to see magical auras around creatures or objects, such as detect magic. The lacquer takes 1 minute to apply and must dry for 24 hours before giving o the false aura.
One bottle of lacquer of dissimulation contains enough to fully coat a Tiny object. It takes twice as much lacquer of dissimulation to coat a larger object as it takes to coat an object one size category smaller. Where an item is coated incompletely, the true, original aura will show through. LE NS OF OVERWATCH Wondrous item, rare This faceted lens, 12 inches across, is usually mounted on a gimbal at eye level in a location with a panoramic view. The lens makes invisible and ethereal creatures and objects visible to anyone who looks through it. Few are made except for royalty and major nobility who post guards on their castle walls. LE NSES OF DISCOVERY Wondrous item, uncommon These wire-framed eyeglasses with faceted lenses contain 3 charges. When you speak the command word and expend 1 charge, looking through the lenses allows you to see invisible and ethereal creatures and objects for 1 hour. They regain 1d3 expended charges daily at dawn. NORTON’SPHANTOM SE NTRY Wondrous item, rare (requires attunement) This 2-inch-wide round disc of quartz, often mounted on a leather bracer for the sake of convenience, is etched with an image of a masti surrounded by twelve arcane glyphs. It contains 3 charges. You can use an action to run your nger around the glyphs three times and expend 1 charge to cast faithful hound from it (attack bonus +7). It regains 1d3 expended charges daily at dawn. PERNILLA’SPRIVATE LIBRARY Wondrous item, rare This object appears as a hardwood bookshelf, 13 inches deep, 30 inches long, and 87 inches high, with six shelves, two of which can hold books up to 9 inches tall, two up to 12 inches tall, and two up to 19 inches tall. It has two command words, each one requiring you to use an action to speak it.
When the rst command word is spoken, the bookshelf folds down into the shape of a book, 6 inches wide, 9 inches long, and 2 inches thick, with a strap that snaps into a buckle with a key lock. The key can be removed. In book form, the library weighs 1 ½ pounds regardless of the weight of its contents, which are held in an extradimensional space. When the second command word is spoken while the key is inserted into the lock and turned, the library unfolds to full size, with its contents arranged on the shelves exactly as they were when it was folded down. However, if any creature turns the key in the lock without speaking the command word or rolls 20 or higher on an ability check to pick the lock, the covers spring open, spewing out a stream of books. The creature must make a DC 16 Dexterity saving throw, taking 10d4 bludgeoning damage on a failure, half damage on a success. The covers, spines, and pages of the ejected books are blank; the bookshelf’s contents remain in the extradimensional space until the book is closed and locked again and unfolded properly. The ejected books crumble to dust after 1 minute. Folding the bookshelf after placing a bag of holding, handy haversack, portable hole, or similar item on one of its shelves, or placing the folded bookshelf inside any of these items, instantly destroys both items and opens a gate to the Astral Plane (see descriptions of these items for further details). PIPE OF SMOKE SIGNALS Wondrous item, uncommon (requires attunement) A creature smoking this carved wooden pipe can spend an action to cast skywrite (see Elemental Evil Player’s Companion). The pipe translates the user’s message into Auran, making it hard to distinguish from ordinary clouds to anyone who doesn’t know the language. QUILLOF AUTHE NTICATION Wondrous item, uncommon A creature using this quill pen can write only true statements. If a creature attempts to write a false statement, or to sign a name other than its own, it must make a DC 13 Charisma saving throw. On a failed save, it writes a true version
of the false statement or signs its own name. On a success, the creature is aware of the enchantment and can refrain from writing anything at all. RE GE NMACHER’SRAINSTICK Rod, common This rod has 3 charges. While you hold it, you can use an action to cast create or destroy water from it (Create Water, rain option only). The rod regains 1 expended charge daily at dawn. If the rod is reduced to 0 charges, roll a d20. On a 1, the rod falls to dust. RING OF IMPOSTURE Ring, uncommon (requires attunement) When you attune to this ring, choose a creature type. While you are wearing the ring, spellsand other magical e ects that detect creature types treat you as if you were a creature of the chosen type. TALISMAN OF INVIOLABILITY Wondrous item, varies (requires attunement) This piece of jewelry makes the wearer immune to enchantment magic, mindreading, and scrying up to a certain spell level. Talisman of… Rarity Highest Spell Level Protected Against Inviolability Uncommon 1st Greater inviolability Rare 3rd Superior inviolability Very rare 6th Supreme inviolability Legendary 8th TALISMAN OF REPULSION Wondrous item, legendary Each talisman of repulsion works against a speci c kind of intelligent creature. Its enchantment causes creatures of this kind to feel an intense urge to leave the area and avoid the talisman, as if a ected by an antipathy/sympathy spell.
Wisdom saving throws against the magic of the talisman are made against DC 18. TRESPASSER’SBANE Wondrous item, uncommon This shimmering ribbon, ⅛ inch wide, comes in a 240-foot spool. When you apply it to the perimeter of a door, window, or other aperture and speak the activating magic word, you designate which creatures won’t set it o and determine whether its alarm will be mental (heard only in your mind) or audible. From that moment until you deactivate it, you gain the bene ts of the alarm spell. Once deactivated, it becomes inert. This item is popular among minor nobles and merchants.
APPENDIXB:STATBLOCKS GARRISON OFFICERS SERGEANT Armor Class 16 (chain shirt, shield) Hit Points 13 (2d8 + 4) Speed 30 ft. Str 14 (+2), Dex 12 (+1), Con 14 (+2), Int 11 (+0), Wis 12 (+1), Cha 12 (+1) Skills Intimidation +2, Perception +3 Senses passive Perception 13 Challenge ¼ (50 XP) ACTIONS Spear. Melee Weapon Attack: +4 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 5 (1d6 + 2) piercing damage. LIEUTENANT Armor Class 17 (breastplate, shield) Hit Points 39 (6d8 + 12) Speed 30 ft. Str 14 (+2), Dex 12 (+1), Con 14 (+2), Int 12 (+1), Wis 12 (+1), Cha 13 (+1) Skills Insight +3, Perception +3 Senses passive Perception 13 Challenge 1 (200 XP) Superior Maneuver (2/Short or Long Rest). The lieutenant can use the Commander’s Strike, Precision Attack, or Rally maneuvers, as described in the Player’s Handbook (chapter 3, “Fighter”). Their superiority die is a d8.