Zengmodaleth
The Zengmodaleth (Gamgweth for Lightning Grove) is the realm accessed through the actions of the concerted efforts of a group of Warrior Mages and Bards, supported by many others, seeking a gateway to the Elemental Plane of Electricity. Unlike with attempts to traverse the plane of other elements, this zone proved hospitable to the intrepid explorers, at least for the duration of their first visit. A portal was opened on the Handsome Plateau, the territory of the scaly seordmaor, given the concentration of lightning in the area due to the proximity to the Suur Pillar.
Emissary from The Grovekeepers: Uryutis
Warrior Mages participating: Perune, Mazrian, Saragos, Falcrain, Ayrell, Qetu, Siendra, Dasheek, Rehlyn, Samech, Fyriestorme
Bards participating: Navesi, Broichan, Lilliwea, Iryta, Grancz, Raithren, Muskapo, Jorenn, Lupdels, Corcus
Through the portal (a crackling ring of blue and green swirled lightning):
[Zengmodaleth, Ancillary Rear Containment]
A complex web of copper piping appears to cover the walls and ceiling, branching and merging as it traverses the length of the room. The elastic ground appears to be composed of a darkly dyed fiber woven with strips of rubber. Rippling blue and green light crackles throughout the area, strange shadows dancing around and emerging from the portal entrance. You note the smell of ozone and lubricating solvents, and the warm air is extremely dry. Obvious exits: north.
[Zengmodaleth, T-Junction]
The piping appears to abruptly bend here, running south and east. A plaque made of polished oravir features a series of elemental symbols and a broad arrow pointing to the west, where the corridor appears to fade into a bright blue glow, the scent of oil thick in the air. At semi-regular intervals, a loud metallic groan echoes through the area, trailing off to a series of rapid pops and clicks. Obvious exits: east, south, west.
[Zengmodaleth, Jalmor Olkan] (Flood Holder)
The hallway abruptly ends here, and the splayed piping bends to the ground where it seems to feed a large pool from which emerge half a dozen stacked columns about a Gor'Tog's height across. The pool is filled with a silvery-black liquid, and the columns crackle with energy and their surfaces churn as the strange fluid flows along narrow grooves etched along their sides. Arrayed along the ceiling are gaethzen orbs, casting a bright, even light across the area. A faint breeze swirls around, pushed by the motion of the fluid. Obvious exits: east.
LOOK COLUMN: Seated within a large pool of silvery-black liquid, the columns are composed of alternating cobalt and steel, and are etched with narrow grooves that form a series of canals. With exacting periodicity, the liquid from the pool surges up the columns, winding along the canals, coating the columns as it rises. As the fluid rises, it bristles into spikes, and lightning arcs between the protuberances. Moments later, the fluid flows back down the columns, the pool rippling before the process starts anew.
[Zengmodaleth, Elbow Bend]
From the north, a thick structure of flattened framework is mounted above, and as it approaches the hallway bend, branches outward into hundreds of pipes that splay across the wall and ceiling. As the hallway continues, the piping runs through a series of access boxes, each encased in thick lead glass mounted on polished oravir hinges. Visible behind the plate glass are brilliantly coruscating bands of energy, pulsating as they stream across the interior of the access box. Sharp crackles and violent explosions can be heard to the north. Obvious exits: north, west.
LOOK BOX: Though the oravir hinges appear to be in working order, you cannot see any means to unlock or open the boxes. The thick lead glass is unmarred, unblemished, and seamlessly mounted against the boxes frame. Within, nearly blinding streams of light are neatly arrayed, forming a series of horizontal bars that ebb and flow gently. Each box bears a faint inscription, the closest of which appears to read "Q5B4", and then trails off into a half a dozen symbols you do not recognize.
[Zengmodaleth, Olkan Rae Audrus] (Holder of Storms)
The corridor abruptly ends, and you find yourself surrounded by an ephemeral bubble of blue energy, affording a view of an unfathomably vast metallic vertical structure composed of equal parts metal lattice, dodecahedrons crackling with electricity, and rippling spikes composed of pure energy. Occasional errant whips of electricity soar outward from the structure and rake along the surface of the bubble, filling the area with blinding white light and a piercing whine that descends in tone as the incredible energy is shunted elsewhere. Though only briefly visible as jagged arcs and lingering visual artifacts, the widening of the bolts as they cross from the column to your location suggests that the structure is unfathomably distant. The bubble ripples and flexes with each strike, and you realize that the bolts are incredibly large. In the distance, beyond the structure, there is simply emptiness. Obvious exits: south.
LOOK STRUCTURE: Starkly illuminated by crackling bolts of lurid electricity, you realize in surprise that you have no frame of reference to identify the size of the structure before you. You believe you could STUDY it to learn more.
STUDY STRUCTURE: The structure is immeasurably far away, stretching to the horizon above and below you, and spans about the width of half your afforded field of view from this vantage. However, the magnitude of the distances involved are impossible to discern. The structure does not follow a perfectly straight trajectory, instead somewhat zigzagging as it stretches vertically. While clearly constructed, the entire machination seems to dynamically change. Multiple gaps along the metallic latticework reveals a brilliant, coursing, blue-green light, and as you watch, you realize that the structure is slowly rearranging itself, sliding sections aligning and connecting in a slow but constant shifting that follows the slow movement of the undercurrent of energy.
The lattice work is rung with dodecahedrons of various sizes, each of which is lashed by raging bolts of electricity which seem to flow along the vertices of the geometric forms. Spikes made of pure energy appear to be randomly placed along the structure, emitting a constant coronal discharge of diffuse lightning, and occasionally blossoming with glowing loops that snap wildly before dissipating. A constant deluge of echoing claps and thrums howl chaotically in the distance, the time delay between whatever caused them and the sound reaching your vantage further complicating your ability to accurately judge how far away the structure is.
You believe you could FOCUS on it to learn more, though you have never witnessed anything like this before. Do so at your own risk!
FOCUSing on the structure causes complete paralysis for Bards and Warrior Mages, with the former suffering severe, bleeding head wounds and the latter having their eyes reduced to pulp within their sockets.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (BARD): You close your eyes and as you focus, your magical senses are deafened with an overwhelming cacophony of sound, a veritable wall of noise. You gasp at the intensity of the sound before you, the unimaginably loud pandemonium echoing and rebounding around vast and bizarre structures. You find yourself breathing heavily, your heart racing with the effort of blocking out the flood of energy that flays your nervous system, and feel your limbs go numb as your eardrums rupture. Falling to your knees, you take a deep breath and try and tease out individual elements, willing yourself to focus on the emergent patterns in the chaos, focusing on the bizarre acoustics of the plane. You begin to hum, weaving a rudimentary progression that faintly harmonizes with the tumult, affording you an understood pitch to work with. You begin to sense a pattern, order emergent from chaos.
At your back is silence, a vast nothingness devoid of even the hiss of stars.
Above and below you, it spans, a seething, roaring crackle, a forest fire, a howling tornado, an earthquake bent from space itself. It slowly progresses through a series of complex tonal sequences, the pitch changed as it passes through gargantuan structures made of metal and energy. The structures ring with confusing major and minors, signaling to one another in rapid squeals of pitches barely edging into or passing beyond your register of hearing.
As you begin to lose control of your elemental senses, you start to understand the progression, the conductor of the structures. While the overall assembly seems to harmonize with the babble of the undercurrent, a singular section of the overall structure appears to lead the group with various progressions. You focus on this section, and for a fleeting moment, detect someone aware of your attention, when suddenly, your senses go silent, and you find yourself reeling with the enormity of the sound coursing around you.
It is ancient, though not older than songs, and has been weaving this melody longer than any you have ever heard. A steadily beaten drum, the skin stretched taut across the cosmos, you sense the deep history of this place.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (CLERIC): You close your eyes, and as you focus, your magical senses sing with the raw magnitude of Firulf's power. Like a feeble leaf before an approaching storm, you find yourself trembling in awe, close enough to be incinerated by the heat of His glory. Just as you feel you are on the verge of comprehending the might of His splendor and talent, your senses quiet, leaving you feeling empty and unfulfilled.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (EMPATH/RANGER): You close your eyes, and as you focus, your magical senses are unable to detect all but the barest hint of Life Mana. A trickle flows through the portal from which you entered, but the entire cosmos are otherwise completely barren. You can sense nothing but a vast emptiness -- there is neither life nor death in this place.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (MOON MAGE/TRADER): You close your eyes, and as you focus, your magical senses are overwhelmed with an ocean of complex equations written in a language you do not understand, following rules you cannot grasp. Transformations following no evident logic flow, merge and separate. Behind you there is only darkness and silence, a vast emptiness, neither the birthing grounds nor graveyards of distant stars. Before you, there is utter randomness and gibberish. It is bizarre, but not uncomfortable. After a moment, you open your eyes, not understanding anything further of this place.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (NECROMANCER): You close your eyes, and as you focus, you struggle to comprehend what your magical senses detect. A confused ocean of brilliance lies before you, and an endless void behind you. In the boundless distance, behind the vast nothingness, you hear them, screaming and skittering for a chance to approach, shying away from the timeless light that gradually, so very gradually, dims with the passing eons. They are not patient, but they know they will eventually have this place.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (PALADIN): You close your eyes, and as you focus, your magical senses resonate faintly with an odd tingling sensation. You gasp as you begin to comprehend a vast alignment, masterfully ordered, though strangely neither Holy nor Profane. As you witness the structure shift and rearrange, you marvel at such a creation without Their Grace. It is bizarre, though there is a righteousness to its form. Suddenly, the tingling sensation abates, and your mundane senses return.
FOCUS STRUCTURE (WARRIOR MAGE): You close your eyes and as you focus, your magical senses are blinded with an overwhelming lurid blue green glow. You gasp at the magnitude of what lies before you, the unimaginable intensity of raw energy, caged and redirected by unknowably complex, indescribably ancient structures. You find yourself breathing heavily, your heart racing with the effort of blocking out the flood of energy that flays your nervous system, and feel your limbs go numb as your eyes begin to burn. As you gain control of your sensorium, you feel yourself falling to your knees, and will yourself into calm meditation, a long breath to focus, a longer exhale to understand. Shielding yourself with elemental charge built within your body and gathered from your surroundings, you listen to the tides of energy. You sense a pattern, order emergent from chaos.
It is here. It is all here, and the secrets that have been kept from you are locked in the subtle dance of the ocean of energy before you. It is ancient, and it will remain.
At your back is darkness, a vast nothingness devoid of stars, devoid of purpose, devoid of order or chaos. No light reflects from that vastness, no sound echoes.
Above and below you, it spans to the horizon. It slowly writhes, a seething river of torrential energy, rung with gargantuan structures organized by components of metal and of pure energy. The structures are siphoning from the whole, energized and empowered and activated, and they move with seeming purpose in a constant effort to maximize the gathered and stored power. Somehow, despite all the energy before you, the awe inspiring complexity of the machinations, and the staggering amount of energy stored, the structures appear to still be gathering power, sorting and storing it, shunting it to various components, producing massive spikes and scalloped sheets of pure energy that rise, furl and snap in winds of magical force. You cannot begin to guess at Their ultimate purpose, but the process is stunning to behold.
Sporadically, pinpricks of swirling energy appear in the space between you and the structure, spiraling into a tiny sphere and crackling with a bursting discharge. Hair-like bolts of lightning unfurl from the depths below and coil to the small spheres. After a short duration, the arcs dissipate, and the spheres evaporate into nothingness.
As you begin to lose control of your elemental senses, you start to understand the pattern, a point of origin around which all the movement of the structures is coordinated. While the overall assembly primarily moves to follow the jagged undercurrent, a singular section of the edifice appears to be an almost hub of coordination, from which all other movement originates. You focus on this section, and for a fleeting moment, detect someone aware of your probing, when suddenly your senses go dark, and you find yourself reeling with the enormity of the forces surging around you.
RECALL STRUCTURE: You close your eyes, opening up your senses to what can be perceived from the structure...
Bound in energy, it was forged long ago, a line of succession maintaining and building upon its form with a steady passion. It wrestles back the void, fighting the silence that encroaches in the distance, as it remembers those that first sang the song of its beginnings, waiting and ready for what purpose to which it may be bent.
You lose yourself a moment in the strangeness of the lingering sensations, and slowly drift back to the now.
EVOKE: You close your eyes, opening up your senses to what can be perceived in this room...
Your senses are flooded with the weight of the history of this place, the strange magics and lofty sentiments. A seemingly endless chain of master and apprentice stretch before you, forging unfathomable creations on stations barely recognizeable as anvils, lathes and looms. They bind runes to nothingness, design the parameters of these cosmos, and delight in the process of maintaining this place with a joy only known to craftsmen.
After a moment, your probing reaches further, beyond the first that discovered this place, and your mind reels with the alienness of what was here before.
Relevant Moon Mage Visions
Dated after the broaching of the plane as described above...
Your mouth fills with the taste of copper, and you find yourself standing on a precipice overlooking a roaring ocean of tumultuous energy, written in symbols and logic that you cannot comprehend. Lightning endlessly crackles nearby, violently lashing the air and raking across the metallic structures jutting around you. You are deafened with the deluge of noise, the charge in the air palpable.
After a moment of blinking away the sensory overload, you realize you are standing next to a tall figure obscured in the conflicting light of the place, their head held high as they peer into the distance. The figure gives a slight "tut" as they shake their head, and with a series of swift motions, begins weaving sparking runes into the air before them. The vision fades.