[Taken From Tunwéya‘s notebooks:]

The time we spent in the Modron outpost has proven extremely valuable, and – while I still need to review some of the information provided by The Historian in order to bring it up to something like publication standard, I think it is fair to say that the expedition was ultimately a success. (Memo: rather pleasant to be able to say something has been a success for once. Should suggest to the others we try competency more often).

In addition to completing my discussions with Historian, I also invested considerable effort in the planning and execution of a Plant Growth Ritual to ensure the Modrons a steady supply of softwoods in exchange for the various items Distributor provided us with (chiefly magical rings, one of which Hinnerk seems unable to remove, but also a Tome of Beastkenning, which I suspect will greatly help with documenting any nondescripts I encounter).

This was not without its challenges, since while the Ritual can impact plant growth across a full half-mile radius there is something of an assumption baked-in to the entire ‘magically enhancing plant growth’ principle that the step “1) first ascertain the presence of plants” will normally be dispensed with, whereas in this case quite a complicated arrangement of what I might call aqua-opus, that is, utilising a relatively limited supply of water and volcanic gravel as a substitute for soil. Though radical, I am moderately convinced that the core essentials for plant growth (in the organic rather than the Druidic) sense are not, as one would ordinarily assume, soil, air and water (or else how are we to make sense of the lichenous growths which we find on rocks or indeed the miraculous Air Plants which one sometimes finds establishing themselves upon the branches of established trees); instead I hypothesise that the requirements are in fact the nourishment of elements within the soil, alongside air and water – in which case if the nutrients can be provided through another mechanism (in this case Plant Growth) it should be possible to ensure the desired plant growth, to all intents and purposes, ex nihilo: this is the fundamental conceit behind aqua-opus, although I confess it will require considerable further study before one could convince a worthy rustic of its practicality.

To this end I have impressed upon Historian that the basis of this Ritual is, as far as I understand it, untested and untried, and that it is essential he and his worthy Monodrones document its success or, as it may be, failure most thoroughly: I calculate that it could be feasible to produce food at scale and – paradoxically – while utilising much less water. This took, of course, considerable effort, but may yet prove vital to the sustenance of Elturel, and I am confident that the time was well spent in view of the data which Historian has assured me will be forwarded on when the full results of the Ritual are known, in approximately 12 months’ time.

While this Ritual was going on – and, alas, before I had chance to copy out my rough calculations and hypotheses into this journal – it became apparent that events were unfolding deeper within the Outpost and I soon found myself summoned to the lower levels where, within a large – rather noisy – cavern, I found myself on a rock causeway stretching out into a lake of lava.

To the right hand side, a large chain moved continually, screaming along the bearings of a vast brass wheel which raised it to pass through the rock behind us, and to the left was more lava. Ahead stood the Modron Vulcan and beyond him – some way beyond him – was a vast assemblage of pipes and gears which clearly had some deep mechanical significance I did not fully comprehend.

As I arrived, my companions had a) endeavoured to communicate with Vulcan (memo: must congratulate them on the soundness of their philosophical enquiries. Many adventurers I have known would have merely taken Futurion’s affirmation he had disabled Vulcan’s communication functions on faith and deprived me of the time necessary to properly complete the Ritual), and b) resolved, upon concluding that someone had disabled Vulcan’s communication functions, to instead distract him from his purpose (which was, of course, to prevent anyone removing the Nivarnian Cogbox).

Accordingly, I arrived as Leofric used Control Flame to raise lava from the lake to the wooden platform on which the aforementioned wheel rested: our plan rested on his doing so privately, allowing the flames to take hold and threaten the structural integrity of the wheel and chain, and then be seen to do our duty as good guests, alerting Vulcan to the danger: as he moved forward to douse the flames and save the wheel, some of our number could then sneak towards the Cogbox while his attention was diverted. Providing, of course, that the fire could be ignited before Vulcan realised what was happening.

(Memo: must ascertain how perceptive average Modron is. Initial experiments suggest “extremely“.)

Since Vulcan was now advancing towards us in evident and considerable agitation, Leofric abandoned his attempts at lava control and instead took the more direct path. Working on the assumption that Modrons do not originate in Avernus, he cast Banishment, a a spell certain to send very nearly any non-native creature instantly back to the plane it originated on, and Vulcan instantly disappeared!

The celebratory silence that followed was marred by only two things: the unmistakable mid-air-shimmering on the spot where Vulcan had been, as if of something attempting to break back into Avernus, and Leofric’s somewhat thoughtful question “Guys… What makes something a home plane? Like, is it possible that if you built a Modron here…”

…At this point, I took an executive decision to run forwards to the large mechanism and seize the Cogbox. Lulu took an executive decision to start dropping spanners into the machine.

We have previously heard that a Nirvanian Cogbox is an item of such wonderous complexity it may be essential to the Blood War effort, although in fact the one in use by the Modrons was merely powering the life support system for their outpost. Given that Historian had been clear that the Blood War had now moved on, and given the bulk of his most recent reports merely read ‘no special occurrences’ with frankly ruinous predictability, it seemed reasonable to deprive them of it, as Futurion had foreseen.

The Cogbox itself was set into a recess, and was clearly in use. I shall attempt to describe it, with the caveat that it was only possible examine the device briefly, and it’s operation therefore remains something of a puzzle.

A large, aligned bank of brass-toothed gears were visible at the top, rotating in sequence (or, rather, in an offset sequence, the rightmost rattling around steadily, the middle occasionally turning in tandem with its partner, and the left, in the brief time I had for observations, remaining entirely static). Forward of this rack of cogs, a bank of Modron symbols lit and faded, apparently in time with the steady clacking rattle of multiple vertically-mounted brass pistons which rose and fell unceasingly in the forward part of the box. In part this is because lifting the Cogbox from its niche caused three events to unfold:

Firstly, a small panel at the front fell open to reveal a complicated tangle of narrow brass pipes which apparently existed for no purpose other than to plug into different pipes emerging from the inner workings of the Cogbox (Query: perhaps this mechanism supports a greater variety of outputs? Would explain supposed versatility of the devices?).

Secondly, it became apparent that the Cogbox itself was impossibly heavy and could not reasonably be carried by one person, or even two, with any sort of speed. This was unfortunate because,

Thirdly, it became apparent that the function of the Cogbox up until this point had been specifically pumping the lava out of the volcano the moment it broke through the surface, thus ensuring the caldera was lava-free and able to house the Outpost. The moment the Cogbox was removed, the chain began to slow with a terrible whine, and the lava began to rise with what I can only characterise as a disobliging speed.

Reya was extremely good, and ran to provide assistance, but since this would still have been a somewhat suboptimal arrangement in the context of trapping both us us at one end of a long causeway surrounded by rising lava, with a presumably angry Vulcan liable to reappear the moment Leofric stopped focusing on keeping him Banished and instead swivelled his eyes to the molten rock bubbling up towards his feet, I circumvented the speed:weight issue of the Cogbox by wildshaping into a Cheetah with it and making a swift exit from the cavern.

I have had recourse at times to somewhat pettish observations along the lines that my contributions are not always fully appreciated by those around me: in this instance I must in all honesty record that my actions were very clearly noted indeed, chiefly by the Modrons who divided based on their natural instincts, some attempting to repair the base as it literally melted around the, some seeking to flee (and, presumably, build a new base elsewhere), and some – rather too many – seeking to block our escape.

As Leofric and the others emerged from the cavern – Reya actually with her boots visibly smouldering – I resumed my normal form, hastily stuffing the Cogbox into our trusty Bag of Holding so we could make good our escape. For most of us, this involved making our way back through the Outpost proper, while we sent Lulu upwards (on what she likes to think of as her wings).

Our progress back up was… less smooth than could have been wished: I arrived inside to find Distributor had taken against us, although I contrived to stick him in place with a Hold Person, allowing Hinnerk to smash one Monodrone and one Duodrone in turn, at which point one remaining Monodrone in the room transformed itself into a Duodrone, and we departed.

The struggle with Distributor and his people had slowed us down considerably, however, and as we emerged into the corridor, lava was already flowing in behind us, and having been mobbed and surrounded in a narrow corridor, it was regrettably necessary to clear the path of Monodrones through what I had intended to be a simple, non-lethal burst of Thunderwave (memo: Monodrones are squishier than they look) before rushing up the stairs.

We emerged onto the top layer of the Outpost at approximately the same time as

1. Lava crested the external walls and began to flow back down, into the courtyard we were in, and
2. Vulcan (or perhaps his extremely on-fire barbarian berserker cousin) smashed through the doors below, and
3. Lulu was contriving to get herself stabbed by multiple Monodrones

At this point, it appeared to be a good idea to depart entirely, and Lulu broke off being stabbed to belatedly recall that she can Do Magic, unleashing a Trumpet of Sparkles that removed the Modrons attacking her from the equation, and dashing over to explain to us that the lift back up to safety can only be operated from below.

(Query: how did the Modrons build this structure when it a) cannot be accessed from above without someone already below, and b) cannot exist without having already been constructed with a Nirvanian Cogbox in it? Should have asked Historian. Probably too late now…)

However, Pherria fought our way to the lift, where Leofric heroically elected to remain behind: literally Heroically, Reya slapping him on the back to ensure he was. Hinnerk, being good with a winch, stayed to guard him, and the bulk of the party were thus cranked up to the top platform, from whence we could make our precarious way back to the lip of the crater.

There, Hinnerk and Leofric joined us via Dimension Door, where we were all able to take stock, and admire the sight of the remaining Modrons flying off while the remains of their Outpost sank into the fire.

…In retrospect, it occurs to me that my Ritual may have been slightly wasted.

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The story continues in Intermission #2.