Xenia II - Return to Xenia Campaign Epilogue

If you are familiar with this site and the debut book I am working on, Xenia is the homebrew world I created way back in the late 90s based on my imagination and the influence of my high school D&D group. I have been consistently fleshing out this world for the last two-plus decades.

I have run two extensive campaigns in this world for my roleplaying group. What’s magical about Xenia is, within reason, it’s a no holds barred universe. We’ve had butt rock music groups, a caster who worked through a ventriloquist puppet, a heroin addict gravedigger, and a 6-foot android dwarf with lycanthropy from the future. I’m no doubt forgetting more. Even just reading through this , I am reminded of Baub the mud farmer (don’t ask…) who was resurrected as a Dragonborn, and Lucious, the bumbling , mumbling litigator who worshipped a head in a jar.

Want to piss off the Sentinels of Light, the paladin-like protectors of the world? Sure. Want to be at absolute odds with the ruling council in Lex Xaia, the capital city, but put them in a position where they need you so badly they have to put up with your bullshit? Let’s do it. Enter a cave and come back 10 years in the future and now cybernetics and undead sieges are the rule of the land? Fun!

Hell, the butt rock, stoner, unscrupulous, and chaotic good traveling minstrels known as the Trunk Monkeys (long story…the Tl;Dr is literally a monkey sprang from a trunk and tried to murder the party) are such a seminal part of the Xenia experience that I made them cannon. Same with Celcior of the original Xenia campaign, a powerful elf mage of debatable alignment.

Why do I put myself in this position to DM such nonsense and chaos? Because it’s a hell of a lot of fun. My friends and I genuinely have a ball in this sandbox. Sessions spent with this group in Xenia are the epitome of “don’t bother preparing anything…it’s going to go off the rails”.

All that said, I wrote an epilogue to celebrate the closure of the second campaign in Xenia where the conflict between opposing gods of Light and Darkness came to a bloody end. Every time I read this, it brings a huge smile to my face as I am reminded of the multiple years I had the privilege of spending with these characters. I think my love for them and the inspiration they gave me is evident.

Enjoy!

With one final flash of radiant devastation, the towering monstrosity borne of shadows that was Rashamoric crumbled like ancient ruins eroded by time and elements, and collapsed into a heaping pile of ash. In that moment, it seemed as if all of Xenia, if not all of Crystalli itself, collectively held its breath.

Silence hung over the battlefield, a thick and heavy sort of silence steeped in anticipation and that bowed deeply under the collective nerves of the men who had been fighting for life itself only moments before. And then just as suddenly, that ominous silence was shattered as the guttural roar erupted from the 100-foot-tall goliath named Gideon who had come to the cause of good and righteous men everywhere. Thrusting his gleaming Warhammer manically over his head, the gargantuan creature continued to bray his victory song. All throughout the battlefield, man and elf, dwarf and halfling, Dragonborn and gnome alike took up his song, thrusting fist and sword into the air as the goliath slowly shrank back to his true size.

Caught up in the rapture of somehow overcoming unthinkable odds, the mortals momentarily forgot that they were in the presence of a god, the one god held most high throughout all of Crystalli, Ciromahsar, the Lord of Light himself.

Ciromahsar, his gigantic form a blazing beacon that held two sharp but gleaming black eyes, a perfect mirror image of his defeated brother, turned his powerful gaze upon the men who had fought in his name and regarded them silently. Despite expending not a single word or gesture, the god managed to clearly communicate his gratitude and respect to all who had rallied around him. Slowly he spread his arms and, curling his massive hands into tight fists he seemed to be gathering power to himself as indeed his already blinding form shone somehow brighter. In the next moment, a powerful wave of energy burst forth from him in all directions and rolled speedily across the battlefield.

A single moan arose from the deep piles of fleshy carnage spread about the field, and soon it was joined by another and yet another. Suddenly cries of shock and joy joined the chorus as those who were moments ago casualties in the Battle for Lex Xaia began to stir and rise, awash in confusion. Father hugged sons they thought lost. Brother clasped forearm with previously fallen brother in mixtures of disbelief, relief, and gratitude.

As all turned to regard the Lord of Light and offer him prayers and pledges of fealty, the god dissolved into thousands of brightly burning balls of light that streaked up toward the heavens, like shooting stars in reverse.

The threat of Rashamoric’s return to Xenia had been extinguished. And now mankind would set about on rebuilding itself. The country would rise again one day, albeit a different Xenia, one that more perfectly reflected the eclectic blending of cultures and beliefs and societies brought to its shores following the deeds of The Legendary 5 Plus One those decades ago.

Now back to his regular but still giant size, Gideon spat on the sizzling mound of ash that had been Rashamoric. He met Sil’s eyes, and they both exchanged a nod. He noticed Sil’s gaze as she took inventory of his numerous wounds. He gave himself a cursory once-over and then shrugged. “Next time I fight a god, I have Lucious write into contract healing potions for Gideon.”

Sil laughed and shook her head. She opened her palm where her seemingly endless supply of healing good berries continually appeared and tossed one to the goliath warrior.

Gideon popped the berry in his mouth and clapped the elven woman on the back as they trudged through the broken bodies of the grey men and human shock troops, their blood mixing with the colorful confetti of vanquished Harlequins.

The pair came upon Sir Valence. He had managed to commandeer an enemy mech and was using it to remove the shattered remains of enemy mechs so that the survivors and reincarnated both could be reclaimed from the pile of dead. “Ahoy!” the rogue cried to the pair as they approached, while simultaneously raising one of the mech’s flamethrower arms and waving enthusiastically in the air. He scrambled out of the cockpit, letting one of the peasants-turned-footmen take his place, and hopped down to greet them.

“I can think of two Council members who are going to be pleased to see the BCC!” he said with a wink. “I shall decree a celebration that will last seven days, where wine and ale and Trunk Monkeys music shall flow! The Exalted Head demands it!”

“The Exalted Head be praised indeed!” came a shout in response from behind the rogue. He turned to find Lucious the monk crossing the battlefield to join them. The monk sprung deftly across the slag and fallen fodder, seemingly undeterred by the terrain as he closed the distance.  

“Ahoy! Praise the Exalted Head!” Sir Valence returned gleefully to the monk.

At that moment, Baub the former human mud farmer now Dragonborn, joined the party. He seemed to survey the field as he drew back his cloak and idly scratched at the giant mushroom that cursedly grew from the top of his head. “Welp,” he began. “I had an uncle that said you shouldn’t never get blood in your mud because it don’t bake right into bricks. I don’t see how any of this mud is going to ever be useful.” He shook his head with disappointment. “It’s a darn shame.”

The others looked at him quizzically for a moment before bursting into laughter together. “C’mon,” Sil said. “I want to see how Ezekiel faired.”

It was a long and arduous journey across the sprawling battlefield, riddled with arrows, boulders, and both broken mechs and bodies. Eventually, however, they came upon the wall that was tasked with the impossible burden of holding back the enemy hoard.

The massive gates were now open, and teams of women conscripted as nurses rushed about the field, driven by the commands of Sentinel clerics, collecting the wounded and ferrying them on stretchers back into the city.

While the wall bore the scars and pockmarks of battle, it has mostly held save for a gaping section approximately 20-foot wide that has collapsed upon itself. Standing upon the wall adjacent to the crumbled section with fists on hips, Ezekiel surveyed the activity below. He spotted his friends approach and waved heartily in their direction.

“Ezekiel! What happened?” Gideon called. “Did the bad men breach the wall?”

“We were nearly overrun at one point,” Ezekiel shouted down to them in response, barely suppressing a smile. “I made an executive decision.”

Gideon’s face screwed up in a look of confusion, but then he noticed the copious bodies of the enemy riddled throughout the remnants of the wall. A knowing look slowly dawned on his face. “Shatter?”

“Maximized,” the priest replied.

Ezekiel joined the party as they entered the city and began making their way through the Sentinel camp. Soldiers and citizens alike hailed them all along the route, shouting praise and thanks, heartily pumping their hands and clapping them upon their backs.

Eventually, they came upon the command tent where the Admiral of Light directed all war activities. Sentinels wielding spears stepped aside, permitting access to the party. Inside they found members of the Council assembled. It appeared that the Admiral had been debriefing them on the events that led to the miraculous victory over Rashamoric and his Legion of Darkness.

The Admiral and Council members took notice of the party’s entrance and turned to address them. Clearing his throat, Justice Theodore Groganmore began, “My good men and women of the BCC, the Council is at a loss as to how to – “

“Oh!” Sir Valance exclaimed, cutting the Sentinel and Councilmember off. “Hold on!” He thrust himself between Gideon and Baub and then squeezed between Duchess Kerrigan and Maester Jenn Greenreeds. He quickly tucked his shirt into his trousers and smoothed out his vest before gesturing toward the Justice. “Please…continue, fellow Councilman.”

Justine Groganmore sighed deeply and then began again, “As I was saying, the Council knows not how to adequately – “

He was cut off again as the Duchess suddenly yelped in surprise. Her hands were now clapped upon her bottom as she turned a deep shade of red with embarrassment. A devilish smile crept across Sir Valance’s face.

“Are you ok, Duchess?” Maester Greenreeds inquired.

“Val pinched the Duchess lady on her buttocks,” Gideon offered, helpfully stabbing one of his meaty fingers in Sir Valance’s direction.

“Errr…thank you,” the Maester replied uncomfortably.

“And then she screamed in surprise,” the goliath continued redirecting his finger toward the Duchess.

Groganmore pulled at his face, leaving behind an expression of great weariness. “Oh, bloody hell. What’s the difference with you idiots? Good show. Congrats. We’ll sing your names in our halls forever, Ciromahsar help us. And as reward for your acts of courage, we – mercifully – relieve you of duty to the Council.”

“May Ciromahsar forever light your path,” Maester Greenreeds added somewhat awkwardly and a tad disingenuously.

“And may it mercifully be a one-way path out of this city forever,” the Justice mumbled under his breath.

“Ummm…uhhh….point of fact,” Lucious began in the rambling way he began most statements. “I believe that, umm, uhh, Sir Valence, as it were according to the voting bylaws as established by the Third Council, is uhh…uhhh…elected to the Council for life.

“If the Council needs a refresher on this particular segment of bylaws I am confident I have a scroll on my person that lays them out in rigorous detail,” he added as he began rummaging around in his pack.

The Maester and Justice shared looks of utter defeat before silently shuffling out of the tent.

As they exited, another figure glided in past them. It was Celceor. The collected heroes looked at the elven mage with shock for he had not been seen outside the mysterious tower a single time since it suddenly appeared one day.

“I have come to acknowledge your contributions in turning back the threat of the Dark Lord,” the elf stated, notably not actually thanking the party.

Sil scoffed. “No thanks to you. As usual.”

The elf’s eyebrow perked up at that. “Really? Is that how you see it? And I suppose it was you that held closed the portal Rashamoric attempted to open to his Dark Plane so that he could flood the battlefield with his demons?”

Sil crossed her arms and looked away, shaking her head contemptuously.

“Perhaps it was your priest?”

Ezekiel spread his hands. “Shatter. Maximized.”

“We all know it wasn’t the simpleton,” the elven mage continued, somehow managing to look down upon the Dragonborn mud farmer who towered over him in stature.

“I had a cousin once who would not fix the bar on his pig barn, and I told him, ‘Bummy, you gotta fix the bar on the pig barn door or them pigs are gonna try to run away’” Baub said. “But he was all like, ‘My pigs won’t run away. They love my mud too much.’ So I said, ‘Ok then.’ And then you know what happened? Welp, the rain came that night and it thundered and lightnin’d and made all kind of racket. Them pigs got mighty scared, and they tried to run away, so Bummy had to stand out there in the rain and thunder and hold those doors on that there pig barn closed all night long. Of course, I helped him because he’s my cousin and he’s not very smart. But I held that door shut, so who knows?”

Celceor waved the Dragonborn off. “I am here to bid you farewell. My time here has ended.”

“What time is it where you are going?” Gideon asked sincerely.

The wizard cast the goliath a withering look.

“Why do you have to leave? There’s…uhhhh….ummm…there’s a lot of knowledge we can gain from you,” Lucious implored.

“Yeah! You’re almost as smart as the Exalted Head!” Val added. “Maybe you could learn from him?”

Anger and frustration flashed across the mage’s face. “Do you really think you’ve defeated Rashamoric once and for all?” he lashed out. “Are your tiny brains so shriveled that you cannot comprehend the vastness of the multiverse where he can sow his evil and execute upon plans to dominate entire realms?

“Who am I kidding? Of course you are that thick,” he continued after pausing for a beat. “Just as I came here to beat the Lord of Darkness back, I will now journey forth to the next dimension where the seed of his threat has already been planted. Left unchecked, it will grow and choke off all that lives there.”

It was silent for a moment before Baub spoke up. “You know, when I have weeds growing in my mud farm, I –“

“Bah!” Celceor exclaimed and with a wave of his hand tried to silence the Dragonborn. Baub did not seem to notice however and continued to ramble through his tale unheard.

At that moment the tent flaps parted and Bosch stepped in with Professor Emmy Sonneville. “Ships ready to fly, Celce. Thanks for offering the tow home.”

The wizard cringed at the nickname the captain of the Whooping Crane had given him as Lucious spoke up. “Wait! You’re leaving, Emmy? You’re leaving me, err, I mean us?”

The striking young professor opened her mouth several times in an attempt to reply, but no words came. She looked back and forth between Bosch and the monk before finally finding her voice. “Lucious, I care about you but…this isn’t my home. I can’t stay. I have to get back to the University. We found the Eternal Breach! This has been my life’s work. I can’t just let that go. I need to go back and publish my findings.”

Lucious looked to the floor, dejected.

“I thought you of all people would understand that. My commitment to the scholarly arts,” she said softly.

Slowly, painfully, Lucious nodded. “You’re right,” he said, choking off a sob. “You must share the knowledge.”

Emmy nodded in return and wiped away a tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “You could, you know, always come with me.”

Lucious’ head suddenly shot up. Renewed hope spreading across his face and into a smile.

“After all,” she continued, “you could share the knowledge of the Exalted Head with my people back home.”

In a sudden burst of speed and fluidity only possible by a monk as skilled as Lucious, he instantly crossed the room, sweeping up the professor in his arms and spinning her around as they locked lips passionately.

Bosch sighed and rolled his eyes, looking away as he clapped the monk on his shoulder. “All right, book worm. Keep it in your pants for now. We have a dimension-hopping tower to catch.” And with that, he disappeared out of the tent.

“But wait!” Sir Valance exclaimed. “Who will preach the good word of the Exalted Head here?”

“I…uhhh….ummm….I will entrust that to you,” Lucious replied. And with that he reached into a pouch on his belt and tossed a small object to the rogue.

Sir Valance caught it in his fist. It was the magic earring by which Lucious maintained a psychic connection with the Exalted Head. Mouth agape, he looked up at the monk who winked and ducked out of the tent, arm in arm with Emmy.

“Well, what do we do now?” Gideon asked. “I have not had a contract in many years.”

“There is an entire city to rebuild. Civilization to restore,” the Duchess offered. Then, as a mischievous grin appeared on her face, added, “A criminal underground to resurrect bigger, more powerful, and more expansive than ever before.”

That got Sil’s attention.

“I’m going to need someone to manage my casino going forward. Someone with class to handle our…discerning guests, and the poise to hold their own when confronted by unruly customers,” the Duchess continued, looking in the elf woman’s direction.

With a grim nod and a knowing look, Sil silently consented.

“There is an art to every deal we do to remain unseen by the Council and the Sentinels,” she continued. “And that art is called ‘Misdirection.’ Someone with a natural gift for gab and has tales to tell for days will be vital to occupying the eyes and ears of those who would see or overhear us when we do business. Someone who by their very presence attracts all of the attention in the room.”

It took a gesture toward the mushroom growing out of his head before Baud finally understood. “Oooohhh. Gotcha.”

“And, of course, everyone who knows Kravat also knows he is the biggest, strongest, deadliest goliath in all of Xenia,” the Duchess said, turning her attention to Gideon. “It wouldn’t do for my cover to be blown now that my previous goliath is...no longer able to perform his duties.”

Gideon stood up straighter. “I will smash anyone who threatens to hurt Val’s girlfriend.”

“Yes. I am sure you will,” she agreed. “But I can’t have you personally roughing up every two-copper, piss ant, wannabe thug that tries to crash my businesses or impede on my territory. There needs to be a mystique about Kravat. I could use someone who can instead deliver a message, violently if necessary.” She turned to Ezekiel.

Ezekiel laced his fingers together, turned his palms outward, and cracked all his knuckles with a series of crisp pops. “Shatter?” he asked?

“Maximized,” the Duchess purred.

At that, Val draped his arm around the Duchess’ shoulders. “I like where I see this going. We’ll be the biggest power couple in Lex Xaia! Will be famous! And rich!”

A look of surprise leaped to the Duchess’ face as the rogue’s arm rested on her, but she notedly did not move or attempt to remove it. She looked up at him skeptically but found herself smiling nonetheless as she shook her head, still in disbelief at how this scoundrel and fool had wormed his way into her heart.

“I’m not sure going public with this is going to work, my love. I am known for carrying about me a certain air of decorum and regality,” she said.

“What?” Val replied in mock offense. “I can show decorum.”

She considered him for a long moment. “Perhaps you ca – OWW!” she yelped in surprise, her hands clapping to her bottom.