#8-17: Refugees of the Weary Sky (Inactive)

Game Master R D

Dimble waits to see what happens.

"Hello there.."

There's a stirring in the vicinity of the broken statues in the room behind you. (The room with the murals.)

Korj: "My brethren!"

Mareq remains calm.

"How do we free your brethren?"

Spirits rise from the broken statues. Korj's eyes go wide. "Brothers!" Korj rushes past the party. "This... This... This can't be! Only Illaton could have..." Korj whirls around to look at you all. Then he looks over at the door to Illaton's room. Then back to the party.

"YOU! You did this!"

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:-) Couldn't help myself. I hope for a moment at least some of you were gearing up for a fight.

Tears well in Korj's eyes. "You've freed them!"

Backstory time: Y'all kind of did this backwards. It's cool! :-D But, it limits some of the over-the-top drama we could have RP'd Judge Judy style. You're meant to talk to Korj first. He knows how to operate the clockwork gauge in Illaton's room. Illaton cannot operate it. Korj and Illaton were once very close--having a common enemy with in Jistka. But Illaton was only concerned with ending his imprisonment. Korj was only concerned with freeing his elemental brethren imprisoned in golem bodies by the Imperium. (Yeah, if you destroyed the Iron Golem at the start, Korj is super unhappy. He's more difficult to defeat than the golem!) Korj and Illaton each felt that the other was insensitive to their respective plights, and they've essentially been odd-couple-style roommates/frenemies/prisoners here for the last 8,000 years.

Oh, hey... remember that odd 'statue' in Korj's room? Anyone want to go investigate that?

Harrow braces himself for combat as spittle flies from Korj and splatters on the half-orc.

Just when he thinks a blow is coming, Korj is happy.

"You...not want kill us?" he asks. "Good...Harrow not want kill you. Maybe we go back to statue we find before. Ragathiel tell Harrow go look there..."

"Sounds good to me. I'm glad everyone is free! Statute anyone else?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm glad everyone is free! Statute anyone else?"

"Yes, let's take a look again. Perhaps this has changed things."

In the 'statue' in Korj's room, you see a man dressed in Jistkan style.

Then, the statue begins to crumble. No. Wait! It's only the outer shell of a statue! There's a man inside.

As his stony exterior flakes off. The man straightens out his posture. He looks at you all imperiously. He speaks.

It's obvious that he's addressing the party.

Not having any idea what the man is saying, Harrow says "Wait...you was statue, now you man? How you do that?"

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

"Mmmm... can anybody comprehend this language?"

I can summon aid to translate via truespeech, but that means I lose Husarq if this guy decides to throw down.

"How can we aid you, good sir?" ask Mareq in a variety of languages, starting with Terran. "I have not had the honor of learning your august tongue, lord."

Sense Motive to understand what he wants: 1d20 ⇒ 7

Diplomacy to make him friendly: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (10) + 16 = 26

Husarq squints and listens to the man...

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

"Master, I'm not sure what he means. Should I kill him?"

Sorry! I'm in the middle of buying a house and my free time suddenly evaporated.

"Wait a moment," says Berosius. "One of my spirits will understand him if I listen hard enough.

The little halfling seems to listen to something no one else can hear, then nods.

Cast tongues.

"Hello! We're from the Pathfinder Society. I'm Berosius, that's Dimble. The big guy is Harrow and my fiery friends are Mareq and Husarq. Oh! And you've been a statue for a really long time. I mean like a looong time. So... How do you feel?"

Congrats on the house!

Translated through Berosius: "A statue! Of all the impertinent... Well, I feel angry! Attend to me my slaves. I shall punish the elemental spirits forthwith." he says imperiously. "Wait a moment. What is this Pathfinder Society? Who are you? Do you serve Ahriman?" (Ahriman is the Lord of the Divs. He is the embodiment of pure destruction and seeks the utter obliteration of existence through his div servants.)

"Ummm...he doesn't sound very nice"

"Attend to me! Now! Quickly! Move, slaves!" he snapps his fingers at you.

When you all don't 'jump' into action immediately, he continues: "Lazy, eh? Well, then I shall discipline you!!!" Then, he weaves arcane sigils in the air with a speed and grace that none of you have ever imagined possible. "Take that!" he screams as he points at you.

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Nothing happens.

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"Hmm..." He weaves more arcane sigils in the air. "Take that!" he screams as he points at you.

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Nothing happens.

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"Well, that's not right. Now, where's my spellbook."

His eyes alight upon a moldering patch of paper pulp in the corner of the room. It has been 8,000+ years, after all.

He screams: "Drat! You'll all be sorry when I get a new spellbook! Are there any other slaves here? Illaton! Where are you? Attend to me; you are bound to my will!!!"

From Korj's reaction, you can tell that Korj hates this guy, but is not attacking for some reason...

"Anyone know what's the matter with him?"

"He's evil but lost a lot of his power and he's about to get up close and personal with my friends Harrow and Husarq if he doesn't calm down and think about this clearly," says Berosius in Taldane, frowning.

"Listen, Mister," says Berosius in Jistkan. "Pathfinders are an international organization of powerful adventurers. We're no body's slaves and me personally? I really dislike slave-masters. So I'm going to invite you to take a minute and think. If you're a wizard, you'll be really smart, and that means not flying off the handle in the face of powerful people who can be friends or enemies. I suggest you rethink your position until you learn a lot more about the world into which you've been lucky enough to be reborn."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (12) + 14 = 26

Harrow bristles at the mention of slaves.

"Harrow not going to be slave, and not let Best Friend be slave, either!" he adds.

"But maybe think about it some more. We not have to fight."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Illaton, upon being summoned (in a mundane fashion) by the Jistkan reluctantly enters the room. Korj and Illaton's gazes meet. There is much unsaid between them.

Illaton addresses the wizard in Jistkan: "Free me!"

Mareq listens to this man screaming at his "slave" Ilaton and remembers what is was like to hear his father scream at him in a similar manner. The shame of being humiliated in front of others, like a dog being chastised.

"One such as you should not be allowed to live," says Mareq angrily.

"Husarq... kill this man. Please."

"Aye, Most Illustrious and Wise," intones Husarq as he draws al-Saif. "It shall be done."

The efreeti's great scimitar bursts into flame as Husarq advances towards the wizard.

"Ummm...can we just leave him and free the djinn?"

Harrow jolts to attention as Mareq addresses Husarq with "please."

Not liking the idea of slaves, Harrow draws his weapon.

"You not make this guy fight for you. Harrow say he not have to."

intimidate: 1d20 + 27 ⇒ (11) + 27 = 38

Harrow jolts to attention as Mareq addresses Husarq with "please."

Not liking the idea of slaves, Harrow draws his weapon.

"You not make this guy fight for you. Harrow say he not have to."

[dice=intimidate]1d20+27

Who are you intimidating? I'm confused.

The wizard, right? Sorry, I am going toward your target, too, but see how my post could have been confusing.

I see one action to kill Ocosten. One to leave him be and one to intimidate. What's the party doing?

Harrow screams. The wizard experiences the Brown Note. "I say! What's this new sorcery! My pantaloons are soiled!"

I think you have your answer! :-)

"Stop!" cries Berosius at the top of his squeaky little lungs. His hair and clothes snap and crackle as if in a stormy wind felt by no one else.

"Just a minute, Mareq! We Pathfinders cooperate, right? We four have never yet killed someone who wasn't attacking us and I don't believe we should start now. We need not sink to his level. Eight thousand years is a lot of catching up to do. Can we give this man five minutes to consider his place in the new world?"

"Husarq, wait!" says Mareq.

Through clenched teeth, Mareq says, "Berosius, this man treats Illaton like dirt undeserving of a name or a place! He locks him in a room for hours, days, years. No acknowledgement or attention. He is not even a person to him! And the first chance he gets, he humiliates him and treats him like, like a human dog who has no place in the City of Br-- like a dog with no place!"

The ifrit's eyes swirl and insanity looms like flecks of fire swimming in the dark pools of his eyes. "He should die. The Wheel will turn and he will receive a second chance at redemption. Maybe. If he is lucky."

He looks over at Husarq.

"This is how it is done."

"Mareq?" says Berosius gently and with quiet compassion. "How is that any different from the way you treat Husarq? I trust you with my life, but I have never liked the way you have spoken to the genie who has also saved our lives more than once. He is as much a part of our team as I am."

"My friend, this may be a time to open your eyes and truly see. You are a good man with a bad habit I pray you will give up of your own accord. Yet I will not condemn you. You are my friend."

"I don't know if this man is evil. I only know that you are not."

"Genie? Genie! This sack of salamander s!*%e hardly qualifies as ALIVE! Much less a Lord of the Elements! He was never worthy when he ruled over others. Nor when he CHAINED ME LIKE A DOG IN MY OWN ROOM AND MADE ME WATCH MY MOTHER BURN!"

Spittle sprays from his mouth and his eyes begin to bulge. His hair, normally red and swirling, as if in a wind, seemingly bursts into flames.

"The only worthy moment in Husarq al-Shamiri's life WAS. WHEN. HE. DIED! AT MY COMMAND! Now he pays his penance in DEATHS. Every death raises his vile, murderous self towards righteousness. He is MY CHARGE! MY STUDENT! MY WEIRD!"

Mareq's mouth stretches into a rictus, a feral deathly grin. His teeth, sharper than ever before, give him a demonic visage. Never before have his fellow pathfinders seen him so... so... efreet-like.

"You. Know. Nothing, Berosius ibn Cheliax al Milani!"

He begins to cast, waving his hands in mysterious gestures, reciting weird words that have no meaning. Final Sacrifice As the words end, Husarq explodes. Gobbets of fire and brimstone flesh scatter, turning to ash and floating to the floor in a gritty, crematorium-like shower.

Mareq begins to cackle a hideous screeching laughter that overtakes him. Within the screeching, maniacal laughter are weird arcane words, unknown to all. Summon Monster IV

But something hears the words. And understands. And comes. An opalescent glow appears in the room as 1d3 ⇒ 3 three lantern archons appear. They coalesce around the insane ifrit, hovering about his head, casting their peaceful, righteous light upon him.

The archons intone in triplicate stereo, "ਪੀਸ, ਅੱਗ ਦਾ ਪੁੱਤਰ."

At the archons' words, Mareq's hair collapses over his eyes, normal red locks again, and his grin becomes a peaceful human-like smile. The red flecks of insanity recede from the whites of his eyes into the irises, sucked back through the windows to his soul. Hidden, once again.

DME: Sorry. That was technically two rounds. Hope you'll forgive me.

Husarq! Berosius is right we shouldn't KILL anyone in cold blood!" Dimble starts to fumble with one of his bombs.

Husarq! Berosius is right we shouldn't KILL anyone in cold blood!" Dimble starts to fumble with one of his bombs.

In a fit of insanity, Mareq has killed Husarq.

He begins to cast, waving his hands in mysterious gestures, reciting weird words that have no meaning. Final Sacrifice As the words end, Husarq explodes. Gobbets of fire and brimstone flesh scatter, turning to ash and floating to the floor in a gritty, crematorium-like shower.

Berosius doesn't back away and doesn't look around for his fellows or up at the archons. He stays with Mareq, knowing that another opportunity like this may not come again. And he completely ignores the Jistkan wizard.

"We're you're friends, Mareq." Berosius rubs some ash from his eyes. "And it isn't Husarq caught in a seemingly endless cycle of pain. It's you. Let us help you."

"Whatever it was, whatever it has become, are just choices. You can make a new choice every moment. Even if what Husarq did was horrible; even if what you did was horrible, you can start fresh. Right here, right now. The people in this room know you at your best and we know you at your worst. And we still want you with us on our next mission."

"It's time to forgive Husarq. It's time to forgive the slaver, too."

Mareq remains silent. However, the archons' light shifts slightly red.

"Follower of the Everbloom, Forgiveness and Justice are two separate things," says one of the archons in a coursing, red, didactic tone.

"Forgive if you will. But Justice must be served," intones another of the archons, its uncompromising, steel-blue voice echoing through the chamber.

"Illaton of the Great Dismal Delve, how do you wish your enslavement to be expiated?" says the third archon, in an inquisitive, golden tone.

Whoa! Lots of RP. Love it! :)

Illaton: "Have we met before? Who are you?"

Just kidding!

Illaton: "As the last artificer from Jistka, only Ocosten's word can free me."

Ocosten: "Attend to me slaves! I need new breeches! Surely one of the artificers can point you to the storage. Oh, and ask them to give me a spellbook so I can discipline you lot."

Illaton: "Forget your breeches and free me!"

Ocosten: "Why would I do that? Once the other artificers see to my immediate needs, you'll go back to work."

Illaton: Much incoherent, frustrated babble.

"I suggest you rethink your position until you learn a lot more about the world into which you've been lucky enough to be reborn."

Ocosten: "Whatever do you mean? These spirits can only petrify a person for a day. Did my petrification last longer? How many extra hours did I lose?"

Knowledge Planes: The effects of the elemental gauge kept Ocoston petrified for an unusually looooong time. Even Korj was surprised that his petrification lasted this long. But he interpreted it as justice for the imprisonment of his elemental spirit brethren in constructs.

Harrow's eyes remain wide during the whole encounter with Mareq. It's not clear what anyone could do to change the ifrit's mind. Harrow had tried to say things before, but this went deeper.

"Berosius say good things like Berosius always say," Harrow says. "Mareq should think about half-ling words. But we have other problem right now," he adds, turning back to Ocosten.

"Harrow say free Illaton. You been frozen long long time...maybe thousand years. Harrow think need a fresh start with different servants. And with different pants."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (14) + 8 = 22

Illaton: "As the last artificer from Jistka, only Ocosten's word can free me."

"Would his joining the River of Souls to Pharasma's Spire free you?" intone all three archons ominously.

The first archon uses its detect evil SLA.

The second archon uses its Aid SLA on Harrow. Temp HP: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6 "Feel the succor of Mount Celestia, Harrow Tatterhood."

The third archon uses its Aid SLA on the first archon. Temp HP: 1d8 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10

Aid

Ocosten: "Thousands of years?!? That's not possible!" The Jistkan is starting to display worry.

Illaton: "Have we met before? Ack! It's Ocosten! Free me!"

"Harrow think if genie guy free other guy, maybe he not get frozen again. Ragathiel reveal to Harrow that this fix everything."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

"Illaton. Would his joining the River of Souls to Pharasma's Spire free you?" repeat all three archons ominously.

Sensing that the moment is lost, Berosius refocuses his attention on Ocosten. "I would advise you, sir, to free Illaton, or else your return to consciousness seems certain to be short-lived. I do not want to see you slain, but the tree of Liberty must often be washed with the blood of tyrants." Here Berosius indicates the stylized drops of golden blood dripping from the thorns of his holy symbol.

"Sir, free Illaton and you free yourself." He glances briefly at Mareq and then back to Ocosten.

Dimble scratches his dead.

"Sir I agree that you should follow the halflings advice and free Illaton!"

"Illaton. Would his joining the River of Souls to Pharasma's Spire free you?" repeat all three archons ominously.

Not ignoring you. But this has to be a party decision--whether or not to dispatch Ocosten.

Illaton: "Oh! Archons! Didn't we meet on the field of battle 25,000 years ago? I remember you!" He addresses the middle archon. "Lenny, isn't it? I have a good memory for auras, you know."

Illaton is also quite mad...
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Ocosten: "But, why would I do that? If so much time has passed, as you say, I will need him to re-create the empire!"

Your diplomacy checks are all good. You just need to give him a reason to do something that's fundamentally against his nature. Perhaps you could inform him how much Golarion has changed. Or you could suggest other life choices. :-) He is a knowledgeable artificer, after all. Berosius was on the right track in this post.
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We're just about finished with this scenario. Probably start "On the Border of War" soon!

Resolving your encounter with Ocosten impacts your 2nd prestige point. I've tried to give a few hints; if I've been too obtuse, let me know! If we can resolve the encounter today/this weekend, then we can get started on Border of War on Monday. :-)