Impression of 'Ward Against Self', inspired by Marguerite Frieda Harris
Once again our party - children of the rulers of the realm - return to the depths of the palace to visit the Kobolds. This time they seek to rescue a palace servant from the cursed painting "Ward Against Self" by a Pit Fiend that they have named 'the murderpainting'.
Content warning - minor body squick, ~PG-13.
After a couple of days, where the bard was increasingly concerned about the servant they had discovered was lost in the painting, the party discussed with the Lady of the House what to do. After reassurance that they would cast Augury before venturing into the painting, the party was given the go-ahead and set off once they knew the Kobolds would be awake. Encountering Kobold scouts heading off deeper into the palace depths they came to the gallery where the Kobolds had set up, finding things abuzz and noting the progress on the portal painting.
After a somewhat stilted conversation with the curator where the curator realised that the junior kobolds had spilled the beans about being able to travel into paintings they reached agreement to venture into the (for sale) murderpainting as an internal assessment as long as they did not damage it. With some significant trepidation all is assembled before the painting - special paints and a team of kobolds to keep it fresh while the party is inside. Pulling back the protective curtain they once again get the sense of existential vertigo before licking the paint dips and stepping in.
Within they find a pillared hall, scaled for titans, painted in strokes of thick oils. Detail fades in a few steps, vision is difficult at distance. Within a short distance everything becomes a few impressionistic dabs. Light cast from flame shines across the floor between the vast pillars. The sorceror summons a trio of celestial owls who flicker in place, like a low-cell rate animation. After some disorientation and concern about the ongoing feeling of vertigo and wrong-ness the bard slips on the recently discovered Ring of the Adventurous Eye, pops out their eye and gives it to one of the owls to carry. The sorceror commands them in celestial to cover as much of the floor as they can, with the eye-bearer to head for any large exit they can find.
Massively disoriented the bard sits to focus on what their mobile eye can see as the owl careens away. A critically successful spot check as they wheel across the floor spots a huddled form in the far corner of the room before the owl passes through the titanic front arch and out into the hell-scape beyond. Here a bleak, starless sky hangs sullenly over a plane riven with rifts that stretch down and down, apparently infinitely. At this point the first two owls arrive back to the party, saying they see noone in the room beyond and warning that this is a bad place and to leave. The final owl, high above the plain beyond blinks out of existence and the bards eye begins to plummet.
After some choice vocalisations and a short struggle the Ring is removed, the eye returns to its place and the bard takes a moment to regain their sense of equilibrium. All sound is deadened within the painting but from somewhere far off heavy footfalls can be heard.
The cleric peers around the pillars to confirm the owls report of the lay of the land beyond. They stand between one set of pillars and the outer wall. In the centre of the hall, a massive throne faces the archway out, two doorways behind it. Half way up the sides of the hall another pair of doorways pierces the walls. A pair of giant firepans blaze before the throne, casting flickering slow shadows through the room. They decide rather than risk striking out directly across the space, losing sight of the edges and getting lost in the impressionistic blur they will take an arc that keeps elements of the space beyond in sight for reference.
The journey along this route works. As they pass across the room, and parts of the walls and pillars slide into focus, they recognise iconography of the Nine Hells. The distant footsteps are heard periodically, volume rising and fading.
Reaching the far corner they find the dwarf, huddled in a corner, perfectly still. Approaching to examine him they see he is petrified. After a brief and inconclusive check for what could have caused this and whether it will be curable if they bring him out of the painting, they decide to stick to the plan and take him back with them. The stone dwarf is heavy and the cleric, with the bards assistance, attempts to carry them back along the route they came. This is a significant struggle, the weighty dwarf awkward to move and the party wary of dropping and damaging them.
Despite the bard assistance and an encouraging tune, effort spent to move the dwarf is only half-effective. As time passes the footsteps begin to sound closer and closer. They have barely wrestled the dwarf half-way back along the route when they debate whether to use a scroll of bulls strength the cleric had given the bard before. Here too, standing before the giant throne, the cleric recognises the iconography decorating it as that of Asmodeus, Archduke of Hell. Strongly suspecting the footsteps belong either to an aspect of the god summoned to the painting by its subject matter or a figment of the pit fiend artists remembrance of his master, they decide they have no desire to be here when the footsteps arrive. Time to use the scroll.
Now with significant assistance, their efforts succeed more than fail and they make it back to the cover of the pillar where the entry is just as the steps are heard to come into the hall. The cleric and the bard heft the dwarf and stumble out of the painting together. The sorceror debates staying to catch a glimpse of the halls master, watching the blazing red light flood across the floor between the pillars. A collossal voice rings out 'Who trespasses in my hall!' and the presence begins to round the pillar when the sorceror turns and flings themselves out through it.
Under the weight of the dwarf the cleric stumbles, putting themselves between the dwarf and the balcony railings to make sure no damage comes to him. They endure minor crushing and thankfully the balcony rails hold. Setting down the dwarf, they thank the Kobolds that kept the painting fresh while they ventured within. Looking back at the painting they see the image has changed, where once there were mere light and shade cast across a pillared hall, now a menacing pitch black shadow falls across the frame, a looming presence just out of sight.
Deciding this was enough for one day the party descends from the balcony and dashes past the curator, thanking them for their assistance and saying they will send someone to fetch the dwarf. Before the Curator gets a chance to respond or confirm the painting is undamaged, our heroes have gone. The party dispatches a nearby guard to fetch stretcher bearers and watches the guards post while they wait. Once again time within the painting was shorter than it felt. The bard resolves once more to try and convince the Lady of the House not to buy this dreadful painting.
The next part of the kobolds tale continues here - the Show.
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