A Tiny Little Frozen Village

Game Master Goddity

”Lure it out! Nay way I’m swinging in there, it’ll cause more trouble for us than that.”

I swear I posted this days ago. Maybe the site ate it? Or maybe I thought about what I would do and then failed to post it ...

Intelligence check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

Katsanóron shrieks as the tentacle grasps at her, and flees blindly back to the main room.

I suspect that will provoke an AoO, and that she'll get grappled thanks to its grab ability ... it has to roll a nat 1 to NOT grapple her. The intelligence check was to see if she was smart enough to withdraw, and with a nat 1, she wasn't.

scout: 1d20 + 8 - 5 ⇒ (9) + 8 - 5 = 12
know: Dungeoneering: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Is it okay to make two rolls? I held off looking under the spoiler.
Is Katsa being grappled? If she is Hob'll head in anyway...
Holding until she is grappled or gets out.

Hob held his breath as the healer turned to flee. Without realising he lent forward, subconscious and conscious at war.

Illusory Thurin follows Hob into the room. He doesn't bump any shelves because he's a badass (and because he doesn't actually produce any force). Hopefully, the thing on the floor has some awareness. The senses of the amorphous were so finicky. While the opening salvo resolves itself, Ganzorig considers his options, moving to get a decent angle on the thing spooking Katsa.

Hob, you can make two rolls. Katsa is being grappled on your turn, but as she walks away the attack of opportunity knocks her out.

Ganzorig, I have no idea if illusions can be seen by blindsense. I'm leaning towards yes, but open to ideas.

AOO: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Damage: 1d6 + 4 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 4 + (6) = 15
Grapple: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

I believe Hob and Thurin still get turns before it acts again.

Depends on the method of blindsense, I think, but in most cases it's about sensing vibrations, and Ganzorig can affect sound, so I think we lucked out. Up to you whether you'd like me to roll a knowledge check on exotic creatures for Ganzorig to know how something's senses work.

Katsanóron's shriek gives way to an ominous silence as the creature's second strike renders her unconscious. She goes limp as the strange silvery creature coils a tendril about her.

Ouch. Katsa is at -4.

Ganzorig, I concur. I'd make you roll the check if you wanted to , but you went with the plan anyway, regardless of if it works.

Thurin and Hob could both act, but in the interest of keeping things moving, I'll put up the ooze's next turn.

With one slippery tendril wrapped around it's next meal, the ooze whips an arm at the next perceived threat, illusionary Thurin. However, distracted by the weight of Katsa, it misses entirely, smacking a bottle on a nearby shelf, filling the room with the sound of breaking glass.

Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Every time you swing a twohanded weapon in this room, roll a reflex save at a DC 10. Fail and you knock a shelf over, causing damage to anyone in the way and possibly the explosion pf magical reagents violently mixing.

"Acid ooze." the blacksmith swears. With a bellowed scream Hob drops his weapon and lunges into the room, intent on grabbing Katsa and getting out.

Holding the enormous shield in front of him he pushes straight through the illusionary Thurin, stoops, and uses his free hand to grab Katsa.

I say the first suggestion works.

With one massive hand, Hob rips Katsa from the goopy monstrosity, and hoists her out of it's reach. The ooze burbles slightly, and prepares to assault Hob.

Hob's Grapple: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Ganzorig, Thurin, and Fake Thurin are up. Also Katsa, which may be relevant if a certain dwarf uses a certain sphere power on her before she takes an action.

Does Ganzorig have line-of-sight with all the shelves and stuff?

Rolling to see if Katsanóron stabilizes. That's a DC 10 CON check, +3 from her CON modifier, -4 from her negative HP.

Death save: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0

Blood oozes over Hob's hands from Katsanóron's wounds, hot and faintly sticky.

Now at -5.

Seeing his comrade go down, the dwarf ran over to her. The runes on his hammer glowed as he touched the weapon to her, chanting as he did so:

Heal: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

I'll take the ooze's turn to keep it flowing. Ganzorig, since you didn't get any actions, you can take two turns after this post. It's up to you if you want one to come beforehand or just want to take them both after the ooze moves. To answer your question, you didn't have line of sight until it moved. Now you do, but it's between everyone's legs.

The goopy puddle slides forwards over the ground, bubbling menacingly. A limb extends menacingly towards Hob, whipping at him with great speed. It harmlessly bounces off his armour, failing to get a grip.

Slam: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Map updated. Party up (Ganzorig twice)

"Everybody. Out!" Hob orders, doing his best to push his fellows back out the door. "Fight outside!"

Katsanóron's wounds fade beneath Thurin's hammer. She stirs slightly and breathes more easily, but does not wake.

Her new HP total is 3, but she still has 3 nonlethal damage from casting spells. Unlike normal nonlethal damage, only a full night's rest can clear that up, as per the draining casting drawback. That basic healing sphere ability that gives temp HP would get her back on her feet without taking any more of Thurin's SP, and then she can heal herself. Katana gets more healing per spell point than Thurin, so that would be efficient.

Ganzorig bites his tongue and leans to one side until his hair brushes the floor trying to get a look at the thing so he can reach out through the shadows.

Thurin's stunt double charges out of the room, stomping as he goes.

As soon as he sees the thing bubbling across the floor Ganzorig flicks his hand and barbs of shadow glide along the floor in its direction.

The ooze burbles as furiously as the armoured orc lumbers away, deflecting it's lash of a pseudopod with a well timed shield block. The puddle pauses for a moment, before whipping a tentacle through the next target in the room, illusionary Thurin. Without meeting any resistance, it cuts right through the illusion. A probing tentacle rises up to sniff the air, as it tries to decide where to go next. Without warning, a pair of shadow bolts shoot past it, one thudding into it, sending a spray of acid out. Slowly, it begins to lumber towards the open door and the gathered party.

Map updated. Party up.

With a pained expression, Ganzorig orphans the illusionary dwarf. "Good night sweet prince. May flights of faeries wing you to your rest..."

Rolling up his sleeves, the gnome prepares something completely different. Not sight nor sound nor the impression of force, but baking soda. A wall of chemically basic material to block the doorway and give his allies a few seconds to collect themselves. The sensation of a base in contact with semi-cognizant acid is comparable to pain, much like semi-cognizance is comparable to sentience, but it's a bit like comparing brown wax to chocolate liqueur, and leaves a similar bad taste in the bleachling's mouth. Nonetheless, Ganzorig shudders as the artistry flows forth and paints the experience over the doorway and floor. It had been a few minutes since he had cast the double, and he had been feeling wane.

Ganzorig takes a few steps back, stumbling over the remains of the broken statues. "It'll be stalled at the doorway. Make it count. The longer you hold it in that there, the better. It's not going to like the trap I just set on the floor."

Hob steps back a few paces, lowers Katsa to the ground, draws his polearm and sets himself.
"World's smallest shieldwall." he tells Thurin.
Great idea with the base Ganzorig

Heal: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

Tapping his hammer to his comrade one more time, Thurin willed life-preserving magics into her body. Satisfied that she would be back on her feet, he took position with Hob, ready to attack if he had to.

Katsanóron's eyes flutter open. The first thing she sees is the back side of Hob's boots.

"Uhhh ..." she groans. She lefts a shaky hand to her hair and plucks a flower, then presses it to her own chest. Green tendrils shoot out of her clutched fist and wrap her in an embrace; then they break apart into green light and drift away. She stands up.

Healing: 2d8 + 3 ⇒ (5, 6) + 3 = 14

That's 4 SP spent and 4 nonlethal damage, but she's almost full.

At first, silence on the other side of the illusionary door. The tension slowly grows, until a popping noise indicates that the ooze has run over the base. Looking worse for wear, the slimy puddle drags itself through the doorway, only to be neatly cleaved in two by Hob. Ooze juice splatters the room, and the few silvery puddles on the ground remain motionless.

Will save: 1d20 - 4 ⇒ (13) - 4 = 9
I love the base so much, I'm giving you 1.5x damage on it.

Where to?

Katsanóron shakes a bit with relief. "Thank you," she says. "All of you. That ... thing almost got me. What was Kegan thinking, to keep such dangerous things in his house?"

She looks around. "I suppose we'd better check the rest of it. Maybe the northwest door, there in the corner? I hope you'll forgive me if I let someone else go first, though."

Reaching up, she places a hand on her chest and just breathes for a moment. The flowers in her hair, already glowing, emit a slightly brighter flash and she looks a bit steadier.

Using Invigorate on myself for 3 temp HP. No SP required.

"You never left a kettle on the stove before, Katsa? Sometimes the difference between a strong tea and a deadly poison is steeping time. Seems to me, Kegan didn't expect to disappear on such short notice." The gnome pulls open his sack with both hands and stuffs his head inside to check his stock of blow darts.

Looking up to Hob and Thurin, Ganzorig opines, "were this an equitable arrangement, I would point out that Katsa and I have each entered a room, but seeing as how the two of you wield weapons in excess of my weight and stature, I defer to your judgement." Ganzorig glances at the front door, but sees no sign of Pyrope, then returns to busying himself with his sack.

Pyrope is nowhere to be seen in the quick glance through the open door. Likely, the creature is hunting some small game to occupy it's time and stomach, although there could be any number of other more mysterious pursuits for the fey.

”In making decisions it is the weight of the mind, not the weapon, which carries the most weight. But aye, I’ll face check the rooms. Makes the most sense. East, then? Seems as good a place as any.”

Katsanóron rubs her side where the ooze grabbed her, still freaked out despite the healing. "Makes sense," she says. "Let's get this over with." She moves across the room and waits slightly back and away from the door.

Thurin pulls the door open with a loud creak, revealing a neat and clean library. The soaring nine foot ceiling has a skylight, flooding the room with the dreary light of the clouded day. The shelves, each stacked neatly with books and marked with small runes are surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the mansion. In fact, this whole room looks as though it was thoroughly cleaned just a minute ago. There isn't a speck of dust to be found anywhere, and the air smells faintly of parchment and ink, with the slightly sweet taste of magic as a backdrop.

Near the door, there's a table and chair with a few open books piled on the table. All of them are books about legends and myths, especially focused on native myths. The pages lying open all describe some form of monster or beast found in the north, although none of them are open to the same monster. Whether it's a snowhag, an ijiraq, or a dragon, all of the creatures so described look ominous. Also on the table is a sculpture of a stone head facing the door, eyes closed and smiling slightly.

The shelves are sorted by subject, with most appearing to be about magic theory, including books such as Thelgrin's Tome of The Ignorant; Aikon's Illusionary Primer; Defence; and Aza's Fall. Other shelves include historical events. The Mage War: Causes, Effects, Outcomes; Aza's History; Ren's Treastie; Mel and the Collapse Thereof; and Din's Theory: How To Kill A God are but a few token examples of the numerous tomes on the subject. Another section of the library is dedicated to books about strange creatures and legends. The books here have more fanciful images and designs, and include books such as The Spirit Realm; Fey Creatures; A Monster Spotters Guide; The Monster Manual; Elgrim's Bestiary; Native Stories and Oral History; and Orcs: An Overlooked People.

There's an entire shelf dedicated to the twenty or so books written by Kegan himself, most of which are untitled. Flipping through them reveals that they're mostly full of spells and rituals, although a couple are dedicated to famous magic items artifacts, and one is a compilation of northern myths. The more scholarly among you would note that only 7 of the 18 books have been published before and the rest might fetch a small fortune with the right buyer. Many of the other books in here are rare and therefore likely valuable. Of course, such an action could be construed as stealing until you've worked out where the wizard went.

After 30 seconds or so passes, the stone head's eyes flicker open revealing faintly glowing blue eyes. It calls out in a friendly voice. "Good evening Master Kegan! Would you care for some tea while you read?"

That was fun to write!

Hob jumped back into defensive stance, shield raised, as the head awoke. "What in the Hells?"
Got ninja'd while I was posting door kicking! Deleted the post.

As soon as it's clear that the room is a library, Ganzorig eschews caution to browse, which is no small feat at his height. When he spots the information on ijiraq, he sneezes dramatically, tugging on the page to no avail. Sheepishly, he turns the page and pats it firmly into place.

Kn:Arcana: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

The gnome chooses to ignore the statue. "So... this is what most of us are after, right? D'you think Rocky will mind if we get to borrowing? One way or another, I think we need to get this stuff out of here."

”Aye. A treasure trove this is. Though I’m loathe to touch that book, lest we ruin the haul. Imagine all the knowledge in here...and all the gold it is worth.”

Still rather freaked out from her last encounter, Katsanóron approaches the speaking head. "Err ... hello ... sir?" she says. "Can we speak with you?"

"I'm not a thief! No-one takes anything until we know the mage isn't here." Hob protests, and then explains. "If he's not here, then he's dead, most like."
"Which means..." Hob walks back to the front door to do his best to close the door again, and bar it.

Calmly, the rock head responds to Hob's cursing. "No need to swear sir, you don't have to have tea. May I help you locate a particular book or subject?" It's face remains unmoved, with a small mysterious smile locked on it's lips. It smoothly swivels to face Katsa, and addresses her in a chipper upbeat voice. "Guests! Oh my! That is unusual. I am the librarian, a nonbeing who tends these fine books. Would you care for some tea?"

The head doesn't show any sign of noticing Ganzorig's scheme.

Sorry for ninjaing you, Hob!

"Y-yes, please," Katsanóron says. "Tea would be lovely. Um, hello. My name is Katsanóron Vazrasti, though most call me Katsa for short. Please forgive Hob; I think he was startled, is all. We're not accustomed to speaking with ... err ... nonbeings such as yourself."

"Tea it is! The statue's eyes flicker red for a moment, and a steaming glass mug pops into existence on the table. Next to it, a small cup of milk appears as well. "Well then, I'm pleased to meet him too. That's alright. Master Kegan thinks I'm the only nonbeing this far north. Say, you wouldn't happen to know where Master Kegan went would you? I've noticed he isn't with you. It's been a while since he stopped to chat."

"Nay. We came here hoping to find him. How long has he been gone, and is there anything that happened before he departed?"

Ganzorig mutters something about wasting time with talking heads. He's clearly jealous of the attention.

"Thank you," Katsa says. She ignores the milk, picks up the tea and sets it to her lips, but does not actually drink -- not entirely trusting this strange creature. Still, the warmth of the tea mug against her lips eases her stress a little.

"That's right," she says. "We came looking for Kegan. So far without any luck. The kitchen is deserted and the food seems to have rotted away years ago. There was some kind of ... blob in the storage room next to it, which almost killed me. We haven't looked in the back rooms yet, but so far the entire place -- except for the library -- has been in terrible disrepair. We -- most of us anyway -- live in the village outside this house, and none of us have seen Kegan in at least a decade."

Given how the front door was earlier torn right off it's hinges, Hob finds it hard to lock convincingly. The best he could manage is propping it into place and placing the kitchen table against it.

Turning to face Ganzorig, the head says "You look lost, little one. May I help you find a book?"

The stone head winks at Thurin and cheerfully proclaims. "I do not know how long it's been. My functions include conjuring light snacks, organizing the library, and providing light conversation. Knowledge such as time is outside my abilities." It turns to Katsa and addresses her with a more serious tone. "I'm sorry that you've experienced such poor hospitality here. I suggest taking it up with the master when he returns." For a moment, it sits quietly and then as if compelled it declares in a neutral voice "Would you like to search for books about 'blob'?"

"Well, has it really been a decade? My, my. I wish I could help you. That's quite distressing. Maybe something did happen to him."The statues pauses, and tries to frown in concentration, but can't get it's lips to lower beyond the smallest smile you've ever seen. "Oh! There is one memory I possess that may be of some relevance to you. I feel that this demonstration may be aided with the usage of imagery. Be warned, what you are about to see is an illusion. Have no fear." It raises an eyebrow and a bright red glow emanates from the eyes of the head. The room flickers and changes, books appearing on shelves and the door closing. The sun rapidly sinks and the full moon comes up, proceeding over a dark cloudless night.

Not offering will saves because you were told it's an illusion. You autopass unless you want not to.

The door slams open. A tall skinny man with short brown hair bursts into the room. A simple metal band adorns his forehead. He is wearing leather armour, and carrying a sword to rival Hob's for size. Unlike Hob's, this sword is dark as if carved from obsidian, and etched with silver symbols down it's edge. It's also dripping with blood. His armour is soaked with blood as well. The man has a huge bruise on his cheek and minor cuts all over, but clearly most of the blood on his armour is from another. Those of you who've seen him before recognize this as Kegan.

Smiling grimly, Kegan grabs the books and the sword. "Thank you. You've been very helpful." He stalks out of the room, gently closing the door behind him.

The librarian smiles widely and the room returns to how it was before. "Does that help?"

"Well, it's certainly more than we knew before!" Katsa says.

She thinks a moment. "No thanks, I don't need to learn any more about that blob right now. Librarian, could you please describe your research capabilities? Are you limited to searching for keywords, or can you perform more complicated tasks?"

Thurin ran his fingers through his beard in thought. ”That sword is likely part of his disappearance. Sorry to interrupt lass. But can ye show me everything that ye showed Kegan? I’d like to start reading while ye answer her questions.”

Katsanóron shakes her head. "That's fine, Thurin -- but didn't you notice? Kegan took those books with him when he left. They're not here anymore."

”Shyt. I mean, perhaps there are copies?” He said, hopefully.

Ganzorig spurns the head librarian's offer at first, crossing his arms over his chest. Then, he watches the illusion, following Kegan's plight of swords and wolves, and while the others fuss over the abjuror's absence, he turns back to the nonbeing with a simple request. "Find me all references to The First World."

The librarian thinks for a moment before responding to Katsa. "That's a difficult question. I was originally designed in the city of Makeria some fifty score ago, to help them sort a library many magnitudes bigger than this one. It is said that Telloca herself had a hand in my construction. On a library that size, I could only do searching. Master Kegan has never asked for than that, so I know not what I can manage here." It smiles widely. "Whatever it is you desire, I shall try. How can I help?"

The statue follows the conversation about the missing books and helpfully chimes in, "I'm afraid your companion is right, small bearded fellow. The master took the books with him. And that was the last time he visited."

"With pleasure" About a dozen or so books illuminate themselves. Skimming them, only three cover the topic in detail. Two are survivors guides, containing disorganized notes on some key locations and figures. Only one attempts to present an organized overview of the magical structure of the plane and how magic works there. The others are either general books on the fey which talk about it briefly, or plane guides which also cover The First World briefly. "The Master was always very interested in the fey. He has quite a lot on the subject. May I get you anything else?" What takes your fancy?

Hob does his best to look unimpressed, though the Smith within him leaps at the thought of this much knowledge with such an impressive index.

"When he said 'Silence'... who to? Was some one here? The sword? A demon?" Hob asks the head. A second later he follows up with a more precise question, his laconic phrasing switching to one more precise and almost academic "Librarian: give details on the books he took."

"Yes! If you can tell us the titles and authors and any other details you may recall about the books Kegan took when he last visited, that would be helpful," Katsa says. "Good thought, Hob."

"As for my own question, I'm curious as to how you work exactly. I mean, do you just search for key words within the texts? Can you perform more complex analysis? For example, suppose I wanted to know the answer to a question, and none of your books have the answer directly, but two of them contain pieces of information that would answer the question if brought together. Could you identify those two bits of information and come up with the answer even though it wasn't stated in as many words?"

Speaking over the spine of one of the survival journals, Ganzorig points out: "The illusion showed the books and the pages Kegan scanned before he left. Maybe you can pause and peek over his shoulder?"

To the head librarian, "Cross-reference my previous request with methods of interplanar travel."