Chapter Five: Imoen
Planar Sphere, somewhere above Sigil, 19 Uktar, 1369 DR
The planar sphere hummed through the barriers between space and time. Within its solid expanse of stone, she stood, wearing her mage robes of faded pink. Along the hem, magical runes of power had been inscribed, flashing different colours every few seconds, changing from yellow to silver, to gold.
Created from the mage robes of Vecna, the pink cloth brimmed with power. Elemental resistance and magic resistance; renewable contingencies; pockets of holding… the list of enchantments that she had placed upon it were nearly endless. She found her confidence increased whenever she wore her robes. It made her feel that whatever she did- wherever she went, her spirit would remain true.
Whistling to herself, she walked around her home, reflecting on the changes she had made. Only two months ago, this place had smelt of burned demon hearts, discarded, rusty weapons and sulphur.
Now, there were delicate silk drapes… areas of living garden created by her magic… trickling fountains in rooms of solid marble… a magical workshop which was pretty and functional at the same time… a library where she kept her spell books and scrolls… her bedroom, which was decorated in various shades of yellow…
It was unrecognisable.
Then again, it should be. She had invested so much energy in changing this place so she could feel at home, that if it was any less perfect, she would have been disappointed. Breathing in deeply, she closed her eyes as the scent of a rare flower tickled her nostril. Bought from a tiefling in the city of Sigil, the aedron plant was one of a kind- the last in all the planes.
There were now two of them in her sphere, growing well and healthily in her gardens. Once there were more of them, she would be able to research how useful they were as spell components. Something that rare would have to be useful.
She chuckled. That sounded almost like a wizard quote, something that she had made an unofficial promise never to say.
Imoen- known by the people close to her as Imoen the Vibrant. The last surviving Bhaalspawn- the only one who had given away her power voluntarily, she was an archmage of incredible magical strength. However, she did not let that go to her head, and acted completely different to the normal wizard.
She would laugh, flirt, and tell jokes, instead of speaking in riddles shrouded in secrecy. Pink was the colour she wore most often, instead of the dull and boring colours of black- or brown.
In fact, she was not dissimilar to Kathryn in her attitude, which probably came of them being sisters. But while Kathryn had chosen the way of music, Imoen had chosen the way of magic. And where Kathryn had chosen godhood, Imoen had chosen mortality.
Her mind went back to that day when Amelyssan had been destroyed, and Kathryn became a god. With her last few moments of mortal life, the bard had given them all tasks to do, if they wished to do them.
Nalia's had been to help her faith grow in Amn.
Anomen had been asked to remain true to his love.
Viconia was given the task of converting the drow.
Keldorn was asked to be ready for a time when Kathryn would need him.
And Imoen?
Imoen had been asked to spread the faith through the planes.
Although as of yet she had not been successful, today, that was set to change. Her contacts in the City of Sigil, far below where the planar sphere rested, had located a number of denizens who may be amenable to the worship of Kathryn.
All had a love of music, in particular, a love of the harp.
Imoen was due to meet them in the sphere this exact moment, and she was moving to the centre of the sphere to the room where they would appear. Five denizens, whose temperament and alignment were unknown to her. Even their race was unknown to her.
Imoen, normally enthralled by anything new, felt nervous.
Whilst in Faerûn, she was confident of her power. Most human wizards or fighters could not hope to match her power. But in the planes? The power of even one random person was considerable, and to meet five at once, without being fully sure whether they were trustworthy…
Uttering the word of power that unlocked the path into the centre of the sphere, Imoen watched as the walls of solid rock shifted, revealing the entrance to a wide, circular room outfitted with soft seats of red velvet.
She stepped into the room, and turned to face a circle of gold.
A faint crackling could be heard, which she knew was the spell of the denizens seeking entrance. Imoen focused her mind, and opened the wards that blocked portal travel into the sphere.
Immediately, a blue spot appeared in the centre, expanding until it filled the circle. Imoen noticed shadowy figures growing with it. Those shadows grew more and more distinct, until there was a loud snap, and a tall figure strode into her sphere, nodding his head graciously in greeting.
Imoen nodded her own greeting, taking in the appearance of this figure. He was a good six feet tall, about a head higher than she was. His skin was a pale blue, and his hair a fine white, and as soon as he entered her planar sphere, she felt a slight stirring of a breeze. She knew immediately what this was: a genasi.
The product of a union between elemental and mortal, genasi were strong beings who quite often dealt severely with humans, who they viewed as their lesser cousins. But this figure seemed friendly- his electric blue eyes, although alien, managed to hold comfort and friendship within their depths.
"Apheyr, air genasi and mage of Sigil, grant thee my grateful thanks for permitting my entrance to your abode of wonder. Upon time and leisure, he shall repay thee for your generous nature."
His voice was heavily accent, and had a lilting quality to it. As he spoke, Imoen felt slightly cold, and noticed the breeze pick up strength. She smiled, and looked into his eyes and said, "I am Imoen, human daughter of a dead god and archmage of Toril. I thank you for coming into my sphere, and I hope that you will be comfortable during your stay."
She looked around. "Where are the others?"
Apheyr said calmly, "They come, now."
There were two snaps one after the other, and Imoen bowed to two women who entered. They wore golden chain mail, with silken silver cloaks and hoods. Into each of their belts were thrust two fine dirks, and at their waist hung ivory harps. Slung across their backs were bows of deep mahogany.
They looked like mirror images of each other.
Although they did not bow, a fractional movement of their head was enough to show their respect. Their eyes met that of Imoen, and she was startled to see the vast wisdom contained in the lilac orbs. Their hair was mostly covered by their hoods, but from what Imoen could see of them, it was a very light blonde, almost white.
The only word that could describe them was beautiful.
One of them raised a hand in greeting, "Imoen, archmage of Toril, I greet you. I am Jasmine Tae, aasimar bard. This is my sister, Katrina, also aasimar… also a bard. We are intrigued to hear of this new god you speak of, this… Harpist."
Katrina nodded, "Yes. Should she accept us, we would be pleased to use our harping skills for the good of the planes and your world."
Imoen said, "I thank you. There will be time for conversation after. I must greet the last two who are meant to be here. If they are anything like you, I am afraid I will be quite overawed. A mere human mage is not meant to deal with such venerated individuals."
The three arrivals did not smile, merely nodded, accepting a compliment where it was due. Arrogant, Imoen thought for a moment. Or maybe not. Perhaps they were just confident in their skills.
She waited for the last two snaps that would denote the two remaining arrivals, but nothing happened. Frowning, she turned to face the three. "Were the last two with you when you stepped through the portal?"
Apheyr frowned. "They were. Archmage Imoen, methinks we should prepare for the worst… Sigil is not the safest of places… Apheyr thinks they may have experienced some trouble."
With those words, his skin started to crackle with lightning. Spell deflection. A few hissed words later, and red light started to play around him- immunity to magical weapons. Imoen watched, intrigued as he continued to cast spell protections upon himself. Sighing, Imoen unleashed her contingencies with a mental command.
Light leaped around her, of many different colours.
Apheyr raised an eyebrow, and said, "This one is impressed. Apheyr has heard rumours of your greatness, archmage. He has just had it proved."
The two aasimar bards had cast whatever spells they had memorised, and while not as impressive as the protections surrounding Apheyr and Imoen, they were potent enough to match many wizards of the Sword Coast. The twins nocked arrows to their bows, and waited, hardly breathing, for new developments.
The development arrived shortly.
It was a demon.
* * *
Imoen watched the massive, snake-like demon rear above them as it crashed into her planar sphere. Narrowing her eyes, she sent a mental call through her sphere, activating the defences around the gate.
Multiple spells sliced at the snake, but dissolved before they could do any damage to the vast, scaly skin of the demon, which buzzed with innate magical energy that would stop most spells.
To stop the creature from penetrating further than the room, Imoen gestured to her left, and allowed the walls to shift back, blocking the exit out of the room. Two shining arrows flew through the air, embedding deep within the demon.
It flung itself to the floor, rolling until the arrows snapped off. Then it launched itself toward Apheyr with incredible speed. The air genasi surprised Imoen, however, when he jumped into the air- and stayed there, floating above the creature.
His eyes flashed once, and two beams of lightning struck the snake.
They fizzled out when they touched the creature.
Arrows from the twins were being launched continually, striking at the creature with unerring accuracy. But they did not seem to be having much affect. The snake was obviously pained by them, but pained in the way an elephant is pained by a bee sting. It did not stop its advance.
Towards Imoen.
Drawing herself up, Imoen held out her right hand, and called into being her staff, which was stored in a pocket plane she had created weeks ago. This staff pulsated with dark blackness.
Roaring a word of power, Imoen sent a massive concussive blast of energy, which sent waves of energy rolling away from the snake. Propped against the wall, she did not fall, but the aasimar twins stumbled for a moment. Floating above the snake, Apheyr remained safe.
Imoen uttered the word of power once more, and again a massive blast of energy swayed her. This time the aasimar were ready for it, and did not stumble. Instead, they just continued to shoot their golden arrows.
In an attempt to test the magical resistance of the demon, Imoen sent five magic missiles winging towards the snake. Three of them dissolved, but two made tiny burn-marks on the skin of the demon.
Content that the resistance was weakened considerably- or at least enough to hurt the creature, Imoen called into her mind a powerful spell. Reaching into her robes, she pulled out a large ruby, which she held in her hand for three seconds, chanting an arcane set of commands.
Missile after missile of red energy flashed from the ruby, attacking the snake viciously. With each missile, the ruby decreased in size slightly. By the time about thirty of the missiles had been unleashed, the ruby had become little more than a spec of dust, which disappeared in a swirl of smoke.
The creature convulsed in pain, but continued its advance towards Imoen, who focused her sight on a point on the other side of the room, and with a quickly uttered spell, teleported to that location.
Not a moment too soon.
The teeth of the demon snapped shut on the space where she had been standing seconds earlier. Breathing heavily, for the ruby spell had taken much energy from her; Imoen steadied herself with the staff, before putting both hands together, and screaming a complicated series of words.
The world shivered before her eyes, as she battled exhaustion, but once she had managed to finish the spell, a beam of light hit the snake in the centre of its skull, with a single screech of noise.
But still it did not die.
Apheyr shouted a spell which Imoen did not recognise. She watched in surprise as a whirlwind of ice tightened itself around the snake, tossing it this way and that throughout the room. The air genasi did not pause, except to take a short breath, and then uttered another spell.
Lightning of pure ice struck the snake, and it shrieked with a scream of primal rage and agonised pain. It tried to move, but gripped by the power of ice itself, it could not. Imoen gestured, and sent three sets of magic missiles against the creature, one after another. It thrashed once, and continued to struggle.
The genasi floated to the ground, and approached the demon with a sneer. He reached into his robes of ice-white, and pulled out a pure, see-through crystal which he held above his head.
Words of power tumbled from his mouth, and Imoen recognised the words of a binding spell. The demon roared, for it too knew what would happen next. A flash made Imoen close her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, the demon was gone. When she looked at the crystal, she saw a madly thrashing line of darkness contained within.
Apheyr had bound the demon to his will.
When he looked at Imoen, he seemed tired, but a gleam of victory could be seen within their depths, as he whispered, "Apheyr is proud to have fought alongside thee, Archmage."
The aasimar twins sighed in unison, and one of them said, "We too, judge it an honour, Imoen. Without you, we would have died for sure, as I think Lara and Kallea have."
A loud bell tolled throughout the planar sphere, and Imoen turned in alarm to face the gate. Another sinuous shape was winding its was towards them. Drawing on her last reserves of strength, Imoen re-activated the wards, and watched as the blue portal dissolved.
They were safe.
For now.