"Voilá!"
he exclaimed.
The
githzerai looked up from the inscribed ki-rin hide he had
been deciphering and muttered, "Here now, Synjyn, there's
no need to shout. My head holes aren't stuffed up and I
know me own name."
"Well,"
replied the gray, gray man, lighting a thin cheroot, "If
you insist on looking like a dodder, you oughtn't be
boggled when folk treat you like one." His relatively
youthful features twisted in a wry smirk as he rapped his
gloved knuckles on the skull. "Or do you plan on
withering away 'til you look like your famous mimir,
here?"
Voilá!
just snorted in reply. He gazed piercingly at the shade
seated in front of him and said, "I haven't heard your
voice in the chanting much lately, Synjyn. What happened
-- did you get exiled again?"
The
gray, gray man shrugged. "Hipped in the Abyss for the
last year. You'd think at my age I'd be peery enough not
to pry into Blood War business. But the garnish she
dangled was top-shelf. I couldn't pass it up." Smoke
thinner than a Taker's conscience trickled from from his
gray nostrils as he contemplated some recent
memory.
"But
that music's been paid and you didn't call the tune, so
we'll leave it at that," Synjyn finished. His gray, gray
stare turned once more to the githzerai.
"So,
why are you here, then?" asked
Voilá!
"The
reason I first sought you out was to cull a bit of chant
about an old leafer I've picked up. But no sooner have I
barred the cage around me than I find that you're
garnishing sods for their chant!" An incredulous
tone crept into the shade's modulated baritone. "You! I
was flat jangled, and that's no 'loth's vow."
The
shade shook his head slowly. "To see you like this...
It's just not like it was in the old days,
Voilá!"
The
elderly githzerai rebuked him sharply. "Oh yes it is," he
hissed. "You've just chosen to forget!" A withered yellow
claw of a hand dropped the scroll it held to reach out
for the skull on the table. A tap and a word from its
master set the bone-box to singing,
"Garnish
for Gossip,
Chant for Pay,
Jink for Darks,
To Lighten Your Day!"
The
baritone voice it sang with echoed hauntingly for a
moment. Had it been possible for the gray, gray man to
colour with embarrassment, he would have. Voila! sat back
with a smug grin on his face.
"Well,"
Synjyn muttered, and cleared his throat. "Times were
harder when I sold you that one." Voila! answered,
"That's not entirely true either. But then, your truths
have always been a bit..." He paused for a more friendly
smile. "Gray." The gray, gray man laughed as
well.
"I'll
tell you what I'll do, then," said the shade, his laugh
still ebbing. "Chant has it that you're peering into the
darks of the planar pathways about the Great Ring. Is
that so?"
The
githzerai nodded.
The
shade continued. "Tack some ears onto that too-full
bone-box of yours and I'll lann you the dark on a planar
pathway that most cutters in the cage have never even
heard of. No gray in this chant, I've walked it myself.
Pure dark, and nothing but. If you like what I've said,
you'll lann me what you know about this leafer I've
sacked away. What do you know about the 'Malenomicon',
eh?"
Voilá!
sucked air between his aged teeth, whistling in shock. He
said, "That had better be top-shelf chant on that
pathway, blood! No one howls about the Malenomicon and
lives long to tell the tale."
"I'm
sure what you've got in your bone-box about that book
isn't howl then," said the shade. "Have we a deal?"
Voilá! thought for a moment and then nodded. "But
keep the cant short," he said. "I want a tale so clear
even the clueless can follow it."
The
gray, gray man smiled and waved to the barkeep for fresh
bub. As he sat forward to tell his tale, he remarked,
"Seeing as how the path was built by the clueless for
their own use, it's only fair."
This
is what he had to say to Voilá!'s mimir that
night....
If
you want to travel the lawful side of the Great Ring,
what's the fastest way to get around? Olympus and
Yggdrasil don't touch down there and neither does the
river Oceanus. The River Styx only goes so far as
Acheron, and it's right dangerous riding that river on
that plane.
What's
a cutter to do? Walk?
Well,
that's exactly right. If you've got a guide, or are fast
enough, you can walk the Roman Road. The Via Romana is
the only planar pathway I know of built by mortals, and
it's designed to take advantage of their prime method of
getting around: feet on the ground.
For
those planars not in the know, it seems that there is, or
was, a prime world nation known as the Roman Empire. Ah,
I see you've heard something about it. That's right, the
columns and civilisation and armies and conquering and
bloodshed and such. "Ave, Caesar!" as they
say.
The
Romans were big on a couple of things, but mostly they're
known for their roads and their organisation. Roman
armies and roads are the very models for a lot of the
more advanced such items you can see today. Their roads
are top-shelf in efficiency and durability, and their
armies... well, let's just say that even the Blood War
would take notice if the Roman Legions decided to enter
the fray.
You
can find the Roman Empire, or a version of it, on more
prime worlds than you can easily count. In a lot of those
worlds, and out here in the planes, it seems that
culture's in decline, but don't make the mistake of
counting the Empire out. It's still going strong in the
prime, and some places out here as well.
Most
of those places are in the Planes of Law. And all of
those places where the Romans have been and built, where
their armies have conquered or march in waiting, are
joined by the Via Romana.
The
Via Romana's a road, plain and simple. It's 300 feet
wide, all along its length, regular as a modron's stride.
A fifteen foot high colonnade runs alongside both edges,
with columns three feet wide and fifteen feet tall. The
columns are evenly spaced ten feet apart.
On
top of the left colonnade is an aqueduct, through which
drinkable water flows. (although it tastes a bit
metallic, no matter where on the road you may be) The Via
usually seems flat as a board, and it's a mystery where
the water comes from, or how it stays flowing. But flow
it does, even on the parts of the Via that run across
Baator. Every mile, a fountain is connected to the
aqueduct, and travellers can refresh themselves with
ease.
On
top of the right colonnade is a series of mirrors and
lenses. Presumably, the Empire used them in some way for
passing messages, but I never learned the dark of
it.
The
Via Romana is paved, every step of the way. The
flagstones vary depending on what land or plane the road
is crossing, but they're always cut square and
regular.
The
weather and temperature on the Via Romana is always like
that of a prime world's more pleasant parts. It's usually
somewhat warm and sunny. Rains can occur, but never for
very long. Oddly, the skies above the Via always
perfectly reflect the plane or prime world's skies that
the road is travelling across, even if the weather on the
road is vastly different.
Magical
conditions on the Via Romana mirror that of the Prime
Material Plane. Magic items made elsewhere function as if
they've been brought to the Prime and most magical spells
are unrestricted in their usage. Priests cast spells as
if on the Prime as well. In fact, the only magical
restrictions that apply are those the Road imposes
itself.
Flying
simply is not possible on the Via Romana. Even natural
flight fails utterly. Flap, float or levitate all
you like, you won't get off the pavement. Beholders hate
it.
Other
magic dealing with movement in any way also fails.
Haste, Slow, Run, Plane Shift, Teleportation, etc;
all are useless. Boots of Speed, Spider
Slippers, and all other sorts of movement related
magic items will not function on the Via
Romana.
Spells
and magic items which conjure or summon creatures or
things from elsewhere in the multiverse also fail. The
only entry or exit from the Via Romana is on its own
terms.
Finally,
magic used to block or impede passage on the Via also
fails, unless it is used by a citizen of the Roman
Empire.
The
Via Romana theoretically has only one endpoint: Caesar's
Villas. However, there have been many Caesars throughout
the ages, and not all of them took their country houses
to the same place when they died.
Practically,
the Via Romana travels from the Caesar's Villas within
the city of Dis, on the second layer of Baator (where
dwell some Caesars who make Caligula look like a nice,
congenial fellow) to the Caesar's Villas perched on
Jovar, the sixth layer of Mt. Celestia, where, it is
said, Julius and Augustus rule beside Jove
himself.
Along
the way are uncountable exits, opening out onto all the
layers of all the lawful planes in between (I know the
Hardheads aren't too happy about the Via's presence on
Nemausus, but there's little they can do about it) and to
many prime material worlds. In every place that Rome's
influence has ever been felt, one may find a branch of
the Via Romana.
Exits
from the Via are nothing more than passages between two
of its columns. The columns through which a passage
appears are marked in Roman writing and are easily noted.
Unlike most portals, a traveller on the Via Romana can
clearly see what lies on the other side of a portal. Exit
requires only that the traveller walk between the proper
columns.
In
the spaces between columns which are not exits,
travellers on the Road will notice an embankment leading
down to a ditch. The ground there resembles whatever
plane the road is traversing at the moment, which in some
cases can be quite dangerous. However, natural
impediments render the ditch impassable in the direction
the Via travels. If a traveller scrambles up the other
side of the ditch, he finds himself arriving on the far
side of the Via from the point where he left.
Entry
to the Via Romana is a slightly different proposition.
There is no indication that a portal to the Via is
anything other than a pair of columns. Portal sense is
required to detect that the portal exists, along with the
proper key. Also, some remnant of road is required for a
portal to the Via to remain active, and the columns must
be in at least a moderate state of repair. The 'road' may
be a mere foot or two of flagstones, the tops of the
columns may have tumbled away, and the passage may be
clogged with underbrush. But so long as that exit has not
been actively destroyed, by time or malice, the Via
Romana may be entered upon there.
To
enter, however, you need one of two keys: a willing roman
citizen or a roman coin. If you've got a guide, a true
citizen of the roman empire who wishes to enter onto the
Via, then you've nothing to worry about. Even if your
guide doesn't know what the Via Romana is and you've
stumbled onto it by accident, you'll find yourself
walking onto the Road. Obviously, it's better to have a
guide who knows what she's doing! But a charmed
guide is useless -- she won't even be able to see the
gates to the Via.
If
you've snuck onto the road with naught but coinage, then
you need to be fleet of foot. For the Empire patrols the
Via Romana relentlessly.
Perhaps
you've heard that old soldiers never die, they just fade
away? Well, old Roman soldiers, who've walked the
roads of the Empire most of their lives fade away to the
Via Romana. There, they're formed up into the Via
Legionarius, the Legion of the Road.
These
ghostly soldiers walk the road continuously, ensuring its
impregnability and the safety of travellers. They patrol
in centuries, i.e.. in numbers no less than 100, led by a
centurion. These spirits are essentially einheriar, save
that they are lawful in alignment, not good, and that
they uniformly use Roman weapons and tactics. Slain
legionnaires are replaced by the next day.
Should
a large invasion be encountered, or a threat that one
century alone cannot handle, they use the messaging
system to call for higher level reinforcements. Large
fights are rare, as most who travel the Via know too well
the efficiency of the Roman Legions.
Once
a day, travellers on the Via Romana will encounter a
century of these troops. The centurion will enquire as to
the legitimacy of the travellers, and can tell innately
whether or not an authentic roman guide is among them. If
a traveller has no guide, the centurion will ask for
payment. Any roman coin will do, but the centurion will
confiscate ALL such coinage the unguided travellers
possess, once again knowing innately whether or not every
coin has been delivered. The legion then marches off down
the Via, leaving the travellers free to walk the
road.
Until
she meets up with the next century of the Legion, a day
later, who will enquire once more for a roman guide or
payment.
If
travellers have no proper coinage, or refuse to part with
it, they are escorted bodily off of the Via, at the
nearest exit, wherever it may lead. Lethal force is not
used unless a legionnaire is slain. If that occurs, the
century will attempt to kill the travellers, one for
every soldier of their own who was killed. I strongly
recommend flight if this occurs.
The
Legion of the Via Romana offers no other aid or
assistance, even to roman citizens. As spirits, they have
no interest in anything save their mission to guard the
Road.
Travel
on the Via Romana, then, is one of two types: a safe,
guarded journey, or a hurried flight from a
well-organised, deadly army. Those travelling under the
latter conditions should know that one day's travel is
usually sufficient only to cross one layer of one plane
that the Via traverses. Exits to prime worlds can be
found all along the Via, but a fugitive running the Via
as a means of travelling the Great Ring must evade
capture by the Via Legionnaires for days to cross from
one plane to another.
There's
remarkably little chant to be heard about the Via Romana,
or about incidents upon it. If you know some regular
travellers, you might hear that there are bandits who
spend short careers upon it, bashing travellers for their
coinage or extorting safe passage.
More
dangerous are the roman press gangs, which rob travellers
of their guide or coinage in an attempt to force them to
their bidding. These evil folk are normally found only in
the Acheronian or Baatezuvian parts of the
Via.
Supposedly,
there are Harmonium patrols trying to enforce tolls and
taxes on the Via where it crosses Arcadia. I never saw
them, and can't say what the dark may be.
There's
also the screed that the Road was built by the baatezu as
a way to drain power from Mt. Celestia, but anyone who's
walked the road knows that's less likely than the howl
about the Hardheads.
Still.
Stranger things have happened.
The
only chant about the Via that I know is true is that told
about the Greek Powers. Seems the Greek Pantheon despises
the Via Romana, and wants to eliminate it from existence.
Proxies and priests in the know habitually attempt to
destroy any entry to the Via they can find. It seems Zeus
and his crew don't care much for Rome or its creations,
and the feeling from the Empire is mutual. Greek vandals
are hotly pursued by the Via Legionnaires, and are never
simply shown to an exit.
Where
can you find the Via Romana? Like I said before, the main
entries onto the Road are in Dis and Jovar. There's
rumoured to be villages of "virtuous pagans" settled on
Avernus, which are likely to have an entryway. Dozens, if
not scores or hundreds, of Acheron's cubes sport a
portion of the road travelling across their face in a
well-protected furrow. The Labyrinthine Portal on
Mechanus is known to have several entries to the Via. And
it links right in to the many roads of Arcadia, hardly
noticed in the profusion of highways and byways. The only
exit I know of personally on Mt. Celestia is one on
Lunia, the first layer. The Via enters onto the Mount
from an outlying island, and then crosses over
Justinian's Bridge to the bucolic roman town of
Beautopolis.
It
seems to go nearly everywhere on that side of the Ring,
but I've never had the time to walk its whole length.
I'll leave that to any cutters listening to this
Mimir.
So
what should you do the next time you need to walk the
planes of law? That's right: Ave
Caesar!