Opening dot.
For new lurkers, the link for Book 4: Fortress of the Stone Giants is here.
Dot dot.
Dot!
<Insert witty dot-based quip here>
:p
In the days following the demise of Mokmurian and Longtooth, Lym settles into a routine at the stronghold of the Black Monks. Every morning after breakfast, she casts at least one spell on herself, and another on anyone else who is interested in receiving it, and a third on the complex itself -- or at least the area the group has chosen to inhabit.
The Wizard appears to be uninterested in any remarks that she is being paranoid; Lym is convinced that Karzoug and his lackeys may be keeping their eyes on the group from a distance through magic.
"I still think those sihedron amulets may be used as scrying foci," she mutters on more than one occasion.
With the morning's spellcasting done, the Wizard retreats to the great library, where she casts another great spell before setting to work.
There is a brief interlude around lunch - an hour or two, which Lym spends not only on getting in some food and drink, but also on tutouring Thordak in the finer points of flight. As promised, the Wizard reserves a spell of flight for her Dwarven friend every day so he can learn to get around in the air.
The subjects Lym is studying are diverse and many of them ancient, and by the time Lym comes staggering out of the library, she is not even done. She just takes a pause to have dinner. Afterwards, the great books of Mokmurian seem to consume only slightly less of her energy than do the books of Jorgenfist.
"This is a wizard's greedy dream," she tells Aurora on one occasion. "All this knowledge.... And all of it was kept from the world by that vile oaf, Mokmurian! I shouldn't wonder that it was provided to him by Karzoug. When next we face him, I should...."
But here the Wizard clams up, his eyebrows drawing down over eyes which have become noticeably redder, or at least noticeably more luminous over the days of study and spellcasting.
"Remember," she repeatedly tells everyone. "If we have anything important to talk about, anything that should remain secret from our enemies, let's do it inside the library, after I have cast the Sanctum."
On the first day of Lym's research, she decides to carry a book from the library with her to her room on the cavern level. Much to her surprise, the copy of 'An Accounting of the Holdings of Xin-Shalast' turns to dust within seconds of leaving the library confines.
So, knowing now that the library itself has some magic that preserves the contents within - to include the chairs - Lym continues her research. The clockwork librarian is more than helpful, and the list of documents grows long. Some titles include:
- 'A Sculptors Guide to the Fleshpots of Xin-Shalast'
- 'Lord of Wealth: Karzoug's Trade and Conquests'
- Tributes of Vadan, with Accountings and Predictions
- Whispers from Leng: A Guide to the Beyond
- Spires of Gold - The Rise of Xin-Shalast
- Karzoug - Lord of Lords and Master of All
- The Face above Xin-Shalast - A Lord in Primal Stone
- A Traveler upon the Golden Road
- The Golden Legion: A History of Auric Fleshworks
- Life's Price: Speculations on Interplanar Soul Trade
and many. many, more.
It doesn't take very long to realize that this library is old - very old. Many of the works are written present tense, and date back 10,000 years or more!
Praxim gets involved in the flying lessons as well, casting his spell for the practice sessions.
Lym is happy enough to include Praxim in the lessons, taking both Dwarf and Elf on trips through the library's odd architecture.
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Tomaru spends his time between Jorgenfist and Magnimar and Sandpoint. He takes a 'shopping list' from any who has one. He'll also take anyone along who wants to come. On every return, he'll not only bring supplies, but will also have a gift for Lym. Almost always something nice, but practical for her (expensive veil, good parchment, rare inks, treatises by Thassilonian 'experts').
He'll also be working on crafting items for the group. If the fortress has a workshop, that's where he'll be doing the work, otherwise, he'll work out of Magnimar.
After about two weeks, Tomaru will insist that everyone come with him to Sandpoint to give their own reports to the council, take care of any personal business they have (didn't Lym buy some land), and to visit with friends.
"All research and no relaxation is not healthy, darling. Besides, you can confer with Brodert Quink about all things Thassilonian. Wouldn't that be a treat for the both of you?"
If Tomaru is there during flying lessons, he'll encourage Thordak, but will, of course, make the odd joke. "Thordak, this is a magic feather. It will help you. I promise. Just hold on to it. Whatever you do, don't let it go."
Tomaru spends his time between Jorgenfist and Magnimar and Sandpoint. He takes a 'shopping list' from any who has one. He'll also take anyone along who wants to come. On every return, he'll not only bring supplies, but will also have a gift for Lym. Almost always something nice, but practical for her (expensive veil, good parchment, rare inks, treatises by Thassilonian 'experts').
He'll also be working on crafting items for the group. If the fortress has a workshop, that's where he'll be doing the work, otherwise, he'll work out of Magnimar.
After about two weeks, Tomaru will insist that everyone come with him to Sandpoint to give their own reports to the council, take care of any personal business they have (didn't Lym buy some land), and to visit with friends.
"All research and no relaxation is not healthy, darling. Besides, you can confer with Brodert Quink about all things Thassilonian. Wouldn't that be a treat for the both of you?"
If Tomaru is there during flying lessons, he'll encourage Thordak, but will, of course, make the odd joke. "Thordak, this is a magic feather. It will help you. I promise. Just hold on to it. Whatever you do, don't let it go."
"That's not flying. That's more like falling with style."
"Ok. This time, try to not hit every wall."
Ok then.
After two weeks Tomaru approaches Lym. "There's something in the dragon's cave I think you should see. Nothing dangerous, but I believe you'll be interested in it. I can take us if you'd like."
Assuming she'll fall for it agree to come.
Once they arrive, Lym finds a stone table set for a candle lit dinner for two. There's a pair of stone chairs with comfortable cushions. Wine, bread, fruit, and salad sit on the table along with some flowers. While close by a stew pot and some meat are being cooked over a fire pit.
Off to the side, there are two stone couches with enough cushions to make them comfortable.
Tomaru gives her a moment to take it all in. "Well, do you find it interesting?" He goes on to explain. "I used Stone Shape. I thought we'd enjoy dinner then move over to the couches to continue our conversation."
The dwarf yells in anguish. "You've got ta be kiddin' me, lass!" he says to Lym. "What do ya mean the chair will fall into dust if we be takin' it out?! That's no blasted fair!" Shaking his head and crossing his arms at the atrociousness of it all, "Ah well, I'll just have ta sit in it for the little time that I have here. Sad. Truly."
If Tomaru is there during flying lessons, he'll encourage Thordak, but will, of course, make the odd joke. "Thordak, this is a magic feather. It will help you. I promise. Just hold on to it. Whatever you do, don't let it go."
Just before he gets started with his flying lessons, Thordak looks to the healer as he speaks, a quizzical look forming as to the information given to him about the feather. Taking the feather, "Magic feather, huh?" he says with a raised eyebrow, his tone letting the cleric know that he's not buying it. Letting it go and watching it fall to the floor, "There goes your magic feather there, lad. Magic feather... HAH! What do I look like to you, lad, some kind of dumbo? You've got ta get up pretty early in the mornin' ta put one over on ol' Thordak." He nods confidently.
During his "flying trials", Thordak tends to be a bit awkward as he flies around to and fro. The dwarf takes a break for a moment, wiping the sweat off his brow.
"That's not flying. That's more like falling with style."
"Ok. This time, try to not hit every wall."
Narrowing his eyes at their resident healer, "Fallin' with style? What in the blazes does that even me?! Ya know, I'm thinkin' you're a sad, strange, not-so-little man, lad," he nods demonstratively. "Anyway, enough of all this chitchat. It's break time and me chair is callin' me name. If anyone be needin' me, ya know where ta find me," he says as he walks off.
[ooc[research Results: this tuff is prety important for the next two books, so I will post it here as well as in the Campaign Tab. I think I will put in the whole Research Table, just so you can see what the levels were.[/ooc]
Xin-Shalast:
Xin-Shalast is a legendary lost city, rumored to be hidden somewhere in the Kodar Mountains. Stories hold that Xin-Shalast had gold streets and gemstone buildings, and sat under the gaze of a mountain that could see.
Xin-Shalast was the capital city of an empire called Shalast, one of seven that composed the ancient empire of Thassilon. Legend holds that Xin-Shalast lay at the headwaters of the sacred River Avah—which Varisian folklore says leads to an earthly paradise sacred to Desna. Unfortunately, no record of where this river may have once flowed exists today, and most scholars believe the river itself to have been destroyed during Earthfall.
In the final centuries before Earthfall ended Thassilon, Xin-Shalast was ruled by Runelord Karzoug, one of the lords of the Thassilonian Empire. The primary architects of the immense city were tribes of giants, themselves ruled by powerful beings known as rune giants.
The Spires of Xin-Shalast stand upon the mythical mountain of Mhar Massif. This mountain of legendary proportions pierces the skies above the Kodars, and is said to be the highest peak in the entire range of stupendously inhospitable mountains.
Mhar Massif is said to serve as a bridge to strange realms beyond Golarion—notably, to the nightmare dimension of Leng. The connections with the nightmare realm of Leng were said to have infused the region around the peak of Mhar Massif with dangerous eldritch and otherworldly energies.
Karzoug
Karzoug was the Runelord of Greed. While he was, himself, an Azlanti human, he was a powerful man indeed — said to be the most gifted manipulator of Transmutation magic in all of Thassilon, and to have lived for hundreds of years. He ruled a region called Shalast, part of the ancient empire of Thassilon, over 10,000 years ago.
Karzoug’s armies were composed primarily of giants who followed his every command—the giants were ruled by towering monsters known as rune giants, who were themselves runelord pawns. Karzoug counted other powerful creatures as his allies as well, such as blue dragons, eerie denizens from the nightmare realm of Leng, blooddrinking
outsiders known as scarlet walkers, and immense lamia harridans who towered over most giants.
Karzoug focused his magic on the school of transmutation, magic associated in Thassilonian times with the virtue of wealth. Under his reign, though, this virtue of rule became more associated with the sin of greed. Among the runelords, his mastery of greed magic was uncontested, yet in the schools of illusion and enchantment (related to the sins of pride and lust), his skills had atrophied greatly. Many believed that weapons infused with illusion and enchantment magic, known as “dominant weapons,” would be particularly potent against Karzoug, yet no record of someone attacking the runelord with such a weapon exists within the library.
Karzoug warred with his neighbors, but none more so than Alaznist, the Runelord of Wrath and ruler of Bakrakhan. Between their nations, along a ridge known as the Rasp, Karzoug built immense sentinel statues to watch over Bakrakhan, while Alaznist built towers called Hellfire Flumes to prevent Karzoug’s armies from invading. Citizens of both nations worried that the war between Karzoug and Alaznist would soon escalate to the point where they could bring about the end of the world.
As Karzoug and Alaznist’s war intensified, and as wars between other runelords threatened more than just their armies, the runelords devised methods in which they could escape the world and enter a state of suspended animation, so they could ride out cataclysms. In theory, their surviving minions would then waken them to reclaim their empires once the cataclysms had ended.
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After having camped out in the library for a full week, Lym brings her findings to the others.
"There we have it," she says. "Our next stop, once we are ready to make it, will be the Kodar Mountains. I'd like to suggest we use Sending to inform Sandpoint of our progress.... and maybe Turtleback Ferry as well? The Mayor might like to know how things are progressing. Hell's bells, we might as well inform the lord of Magnimar. If Karzoug succeeds, it would be a disaster for everyone."
The Wizard sags into a chair.
"Gehh. I feel drained. Ahem. I'd like to suggest we prepare ourselves to face the denizens of Leng before we go. Weaponry designed to defeat outsiders would not go amiss, I'd wager."
Lym looks at what Tomaru has done to the dragon's lair .... and sits down heavily at the table. She grabs a bottle of wine and belts half of it back before she says a word.... and that word comes out in a soft voice.
"I have been .... I've been trying not to think. Not to think of what happened in the library when we were fighting Mokmurian."
A very strange look ghosts through Lym's red eyes as she stares at Tomaru.
"I remember .... No. Wait. First things first. I never told you where I come from, did I? I was raised and trained in Nex. Had I been fully human, I would have striven to become an Arclord. But I was .... me."
Lym raises the bottle and drains it. She belches once, and ignores the fact that she did. The look in her eyes is haunted.
"My mother .... She was a merchant, I think. I do not know for certain. She passed by Belkzen, at any rate, and nine months later .... she left me on the doorstep of an Abadaran orphanage in Nex. I grew up there. I did not know any better, the first .... five? .... the first five years, I did not know better. It wasn't that bad.
Then one day, one of the matrons caught me tussling with the other children. It wasn't serious. I do not think I was an angry child, and besides, we were forever scrapping about this and that. It meant nothing. In fact, it was a bit of fun. But I was winning, see? I was strong for my age, then. So she grabbed me by the ear, the matron, and she dragged me inside, and she sat me down and explained to me about my mother. And my father."
The Wizard sets the empty bottle down with a very definite thump.
"I was five years old," she says, bitterness filling her voice like venom, "when that overstuffed old besom told me what rape was. That I had been gotten on my mother by a monster, a dirty Orc who forced her against her will. And that I, yes, I shared in his evil because I had his bad, black blood. She explained all about how my being born had horrified my mother so much, reminded her of the horror that had been inflicted on her so much, that she abandoned me, without ever facing the Abadaran nuns. They found me when they went outside to see if the milk had been delivered yet.
And can you guess what she did then?"
Lym tugs off her gloves, revealing her hands. They look perfectly normal for a Half-Orc, though Wizard's training has made them especially dexterous. Lym raises her hands, squeezes them into fists, makes a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh.
"She painted the palms of my hands black with something sticky that took a long time to dry. That way, she explained, she would know if I hurt anyone, broke anything, if I gave in to being an Orc. Five years old, and she hammered it into me that I had a monster inside that wanted to get out."
Lym's fists slowly sink to the tabletop.
"She took me in hand after that. Every time I did anything that she felt was wrong, she would take me into that quiet room and make me recite the lesson she taught me; that there was a monster in me because I carried the bad blood of the Orc who raped my good and saintly mother. That my first instinct was wrong. That I was a monster, and that only through the wisdom of Abadar could I be saved."
The Wizard laughs, and it is an ugly sound.
"She kept painting my hands with that muck until the other children started calling me Lym the Blackhanded. That didn't stop me from finding my calling. And I can still see the look on that fat old matron's face when I came back and showed around the scroll of acceptance to a full education, when she saw I had put 'Blackhand' down as my family name. I thought she was going to have a heart attack. Did me a power of good, I can tell you that."
The laugh dies a lonely death as Lym's eyes bore into Tomaru's.
"So. With that bit of past told .... I remember what happened. When Mokmurian hit me with that spell. I was dead. My body was dust. But you tore apart and re-wove time. Well, Desna did, but you called on her to do it. Before that day, I had never thought of Desna as being particularly frightening, but that .... that has changed. Such power.
But still. I remember the moment that I was dead."
Lym's voice breaks on that word: 'dead'.
"I should not be able to, but I .... I do. I remember standing in line, with Psychopomps flapping all about, organizing the dead before they came to ...."
Lym audibly gulps and grabs another bottle of wine, drinking hastily, almost desperately.
"I wish I did not remember. There was not enough time for me to get .... to her. But standing in line there, I .... I saw the ones who stood to my left and to my right. One I had never met, the other I had not met since I was new-born, but I still knew them.
My mother. My father. Standing there and waiting their turn to be judged. Still waiting, even though I had just arrived there. And .... and I saw their faces and now I recognize them whenever I look in the mirror. And .... and ...."
Another, desultory gulp of wine.
"They knew me as I knew them, and .... My father said I was an embarrassment, that I was weak. That I had not lived up to the power of my blood, his blood, that I had not revelled enough in the killing I did, that I had not used my power to dominate my world. And my mother said I was her shame, that she had tried every day to forget I existed. That she regretted showing me as much mercy as she had. That she should have drowned me in a bucket instead of leaving me at the orphanage."
Lym's eyes go dull and dark.
"I did not realize how much she still got to me, that matron. All those years, I .... I wanted to prove, somewhere deep inside, that I was not a monster, that I was not an Orc. So I .... kept things in. Until I couldn't. I have been angry. I have .... accepted my anger. But still. Ashamed of my feelings. Inside. Trying to be .... human. As much as I could. But."
Lym lets go of the bottle without setting it down properly. It falls, shattering, scattering glass and wine like blood. She ignores it.
"Neither one of them. I see their faces in mine, and. I do not care anymore. He was a monster, but. But she. Blamed. Me. That makes no sense. A child is not guilty for its birth. And I was. Was trying to be. Human. Denying. Fighting. Inside. But."
Very slowly, Lym reaches up. Unpins the veil. Takes off the mask. Her eyes burn when she stares at Tomaru.
"What are you chasing?" she asks. "What do you think you are chasing? I am done with them. Done with feeling so smothered, feeling like I'm trying to kill off part of myself. But what are you looking for, Tomaru? In me. What are you looking for?"
On days they aren't out shopping, while Lym is researching and Tomaru is planning romantic evenings, Praxim grabs Thordak and a few of the stone giant youths and sets up a "bucket line" to start moving rubble out of the hallways on the library level.
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”I know that you are a private person. I will never tell anyone about your past. I want you to know that.” He fixes her plate and brings it to her. ”I hope you like it. I’m not the best cook, but I did learn a thing or two while on the road.” The plate is a stewed potatoes and a healthy portion of roast. He doesn’t really leave room for any of the fruit or salad that’s already on the table.
He reaches out to touch her hand, to hold it. ”And you’re wrong about dying. You did not die. While I have enough understanding in Desna’s ways that I can beseech her to have Pharasma grant such a boon, that is not what happened. What she did was to change your luck before you died. What you saw were echoes of something that never happened. Your mother and father never said those things. “ Tomaru goes to fix his own plate. It is full of meat very much like Lym’s.
He sits down across from Lym and breaks off some bread for him and her. ”I understand why you told me of your past. It was tragic. But what I heard was an inspiring tale of how you overcame. Please don’t let the terrible things in your past diminish how you feel about yourself now. I beg you Lym. I beg you don’t let that happen. Because I have traveled the land with you and have stood in awe of your intellect, mastery of the arcane, and willingness to put yourself in harm’s way for others. You lead our group. An elf, a dwarf, a gnome, and a human follow you. And, yes, we know you have orc blood. Though now that I think about it, Thordak might not.”
”And as for your question.” From somewhere, he produces another bottle of wine (he seems to be well prepared). ”I’ve already told you I see the truth about you. I’m not looking for anything in you because I’ve already found it. Passion and compassion, intelligence and fierceness, and beauty. So much beauty. I don’t want anything from you. I do want everything for you.”
The giants work diligently to remove the stone rubble, and after a few weeks work, the halls are cleared to reveal a half dozen rooms that clearly housed the denizens of the library. Ten thousand years of burial under rock does not leave anything to see.
One of the giants spends an inordinate amount of time hanging around after the work is done each day. He does not speak to anyone, but he watches Praxim and Thordak intently.
Was it one of the sihedron-marked giants?
Praxim scans him for evil.
All of the giants were marked, he is no different. He is not evil.
Praxim elbows Thordak and points out the youth.
"What do you think? Loyal Mokmurian follower looking to make trouble or just in awe that a dwarf and an elf could kill anything bigger than a house cat?"
Glancing over at the young giant, Thordak strokes his beard in thought a moment. "Hm. That's a good question, lad. Hold on a moment, I'll go ask 'im cause now I'm curious." Thordak walks over to the giant, "Hello there, lad! Me and me elf friend over there are curious as to what it is that makes us so interestin'. Ya seem ta be studyin' us for some reason and we can't figure out why so I figured I'd simply ask ya." The dwarf crosses his arms in a friendly manner, awaiting a response.
Aurora hang around Thordak and Praxim as they discuss the giant, and as Thordak makes his approach, she'll translate if required.
Praxim walks over with Thordak. He waits for the giant to answer his question, but doesn't look unfriendly about it.
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The young stone giant looked like he was considering slipping away once it was clear that Thordak had seen him, but with nowhere to go, he stays put.
"I be sorry," the giant responds in broken put passable Taldane. "I mean no offences. Mistress Conna say you powerful heroes. You kill Mokmurian. Mokmurian was powerful too, but you be more powerful."
"But you are tiny, you are tinier, and you just have puny arrows. How you be powerful?"
Slowly, haltingly, Lym reaches out and grasps Tomaru's hand.
"Flirting. Hah...."
The hand travels up Tomaru's arm, to his collar .... where the wizard's fingers grasp his collar and .... pulls the cleric closer.
"I am not good at .... flirting. But even if it was just an echo, I have seen death. Some of it. I think .... I think I want to feel alive. Mind I am .... clumsy."
Lym comes walking out of the library, carrying a lacquered box and a sheet of paper. For a wonder, she actually looks rested -- and underneath her veil, there is only her face. Her mask is gone, it seems.
"Praxim?" she calls out, absent-minded. "If you still want me to set that tattoo for you, we can do it now, if you've the time. I just bought the .... tools."
The Wizard looks up and notices the tense situation.
"Everything alright?" she asks.
It is three months since Mokmurian was defeated. Lym has time to research all she can about the fabled city of Xin-Shalast and Karzoug himself. Many comings and goings between Jorgenfist and Magnimar have helped prepare you for the trials ahead.
With all of the information you have, there are still many questions. Questions that are not easily answered. Perhaps the most pressing in the backs of everyone's minds is "what is Karzoug's next step?" So when the Sending comes from Father Zantus in Sandpoint, saying they have an urgent problem that needs attention, you are not really surprised.
"I think so," Praxim replies to Lym. "The young fellow seems to be curious how we could be strong enough to kill Mokmurian when we're so tiny."
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The young stone giant looked like he was considering slipping away once it was clear that Thordak had seen him, but with nowhere to go, he stays put.
"I be sorry," the giant responds in broken put passable Taldane. "I mean no offences. Mistress Conna say you powerful heroes. You kill Mokmurian. Mokmurian was powerful too, but you be more powerful."
"But you are tiny, you are tinier, and you just have puny arrows. How you be powerful?"
Just as the dwarf is about to answer that he stops, a confused look forms as he strokes his beard. Looking up at the giant and then looking to Praxim and himself, he shrugs. "That's a good question, lad. It really doesn't make a lot of sense if ya think about it, does it? Hm. I guess ya could say, we might be small but we know how ta hit where it hurts," he says with a wink. Looking over at Aurora, he loses his train of thought a moment, Such a lovely lass, and grins. But then his eyes go wide as glances from left to right making sure no one heard him thinking. Regaining his composure a bit, he clears his throat and continues, "But I've got ta be honest, lad, if it wasn't for Aurora," motioning toward the gnome as he speaks, "the lovvv...," he starts but catches himself in the nick of time, his heart racing as he hurries to cover himself, "..vitatin' lass right there - that means fly by the way, lovitatin' that is. Because she flies a lot. I mean levitatin'! Sorry. I just mispronounced it," he chuckles awkwardly before quickly continuing on, "ANYWAY, she might be little but she packs a MIGHTY punch. Ya don't want ta be on the receivin' end of one of her mighty blasts." He makes an explosion sound and mimics the form of one with his hands.
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Praxim stared blankly at Thordak for a moment.
"I think what he's trying to say is that skill and training can make up for lesser size. Just because one uses lots of words doesn't mean one is clear in what he's saying." He smirks.
The stone giant appears confused as the dwarf rambles incoherently. "I be Rexil. I only wanting to learn how puny peoples be stronger than great giant leader. I not mean offences. I not want to be blasted by tiny ones."
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"Don't worry, Rexil, no one will be blastin' ya. You're safe with us, lad."
"And the lad's right," Thordak nods in agreement with Praxim, "Ya don't...," he stops in mid-sentence as it dawns on him what the elf is referring. Narrowing his eyes, he turns to the paladin. "Hardy har har, elf, verrrry funny. It's a good thing comedy is not yer callin', lad, and ya know how ta shoot those sticks of yours, otherwise, you'd be out of a job," he tells him, nodding defiantly as he turns to leave. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in me chair." As he walks away, the dwarf grumbles under his breath, "'Use lots of words', hmph. I'll use lots of words, I will. Lots of words he won't like I will! Yeah that's what I'll do. 'Use lots of words', hmph. What's he sayin'? I talk a lot? Well at least I talk, Mr... Mr... Personality!" The dwarf continues his mumbling tirade of complaining as he walks off.
"I be safe with you? Very good. I be safe with you, and you can be teaching me to be strong and powerful like you."
"Ummm...well...ummm..." Praxim looks about, slightly uncomfortable.
"Thordak?" he calls out, but gets no reply.
Later, at dinner, Praxim arrives as normal, but with the stone giant in tow.
"The belts and headbands are great, but I'm most proud of the book I made for Lym.... Err. Praxim, do you wish to introduce your little friend to the rest of us?"
"Book?" Lym repeats. "You didn't say anything about a book last .... Ehem. I look forward to seeing it. Very much so."
"Right, yes. Everybody, this is Rexil. He's one of the stone giants...ummmm...obviously. He's very interested in learning from us and helping us against Karzoug. Which apparently involves following me around everywhere I go. Rexil, this is Lym and Tomaru. You probably haven't met them before since they seem to spend a good deal of time off by themselves for some reason nobody knows about."
Lym clears her throat in a meaningful way.
"Yes," she says in a dry tone of voice, "I've been busy in the library, and we've both been doing a lot in the workshop. Speaking of work - as I said, I have the kit I need to start setting tattoos. If you like it" - the Wizard holds out a hand, displaying a ring of intricately detailed glyphs circling one finger, and another circling her wrist - "we can get started as soon as you're ready."
Praxim chuckles. "I think I get the point."
Lym calls the group together in the main room they've been using as living quarters. The Wizard seems both enthusiastic and nervous about something -- and you may notice a new accessory. Hanging from her belt by an end of chain is a forked, metallic rod, inscribed from top to bottom with magical glyphs and apparently crafted of a valuable metal.
"I am about to start one of the most ambitious magical experiments of my life," she says without ado. "If successful, we will have a base of operations that we can access from anywhere - provided we keep a spell of Plane shift handy. It's going to take a fair bit of time to cast, so please be back here in about two hours' time. Tomaru, if you haven't prayed for spells yet today, would you ask Desna to bless you with Plane shift, and maybe Teleport? You'll see why soon."
Having spoken, the Wizard raises the forked rod in both hands, closes her eyes and starts to chant.
Two hours pass. Anyone looking in on her will find her still in that same position - but power is gathering around her. The rod is glowing with a harsh, purple light, and sometimes the air seems to .... ripple, giving you glimpses of some other, vaster space; a silvery-grey void.
Finally, Lym's voice falls silent and she lets her new tool fall from her hands. Purple lightning stabs from her hands into the air - through the air - into that void. Bolts and bolts of power blast forth as the Wizard's eyes open, looking on .... something.
When the power has stopped flowing, Lym holds her hands out to the others.
"Form a circle," she says. "Hold each other's hands. I will show you."
There is a brief, gut-twisting sensation of space folding and unfolding, and then you all find yourselves in a large space. Possibly about 130 cubic feet of space, to be exact.
There is a floor of smooth, dark wood underfoot. Walls of rough stone reach up to a ceiling made of wood again. The temperature is balmy, like a fresh spring day.
The light is slightly dim, but not dark.
Rather than explain anything, Lym spends a few more minutes casting spells, her eyes closed in tight concentration. Once she is finished, everyone may feel a dull thump somewhere about the height of their heart.
"It's finished," Lym says as the last echoes of power ripple outward from her, and she smiles, wearily. "Call it.... oh, go on. Call it 'Castle Lym'. It's a pocket dimension, hidden in the waves of the Astral Plane. I've just set up a spell so it cannot be spied upon by means of scrying magic - nor can a substantial chunk of the Astral Plane around it, now. With luck, we now have a completely hidden base of operations from which to launch surprise attacks or to which we may withdraw when we have need of a tactical retreat.
So.... What do you all think?"
"It's very snug, quite secure. How do we get back and forth?"
Lym clears her throat in a meaningful way.
"Yes," she says in a dry tone of voice, "I've been busy in the library, and we've both been doing a lot in the workshop. Speaking of work - as I said, I have the kit I need to start setting tattoos. If you like it" - the Wizard holds out a hand, displaying a ring of intricately detailed glyphs circling one finger, and another circling her wrist - "we can get started as soon as you're ready."
Confused about the back and forth between the elf and the half-orc, What in the blazes are they goin' on about?! Sometimes I wonder about those two.
"I'll take one of those, lass. The one that lets you float when ya fall. Even though me boots are built for fallin', if I fall two or three hundred feet, there's no pair o' boots that'll save me from that. At least, I don't think. Ya know, I've never tried it from that far. Not sure I want to ta be honest," he says as a matter of fact, yet, he can't help but contemplate it for a moment.
"What do you all think?"
Thordak, taken aback by all the magic weirdness, glances around a moment to take it all in. "Well... um... where are all the chairs, lass? Ya got ta have a good place ta sit if you're gonna have your own place. But I've got ta say, I'm lovin' the stone walls," he says with a nod and a thumbs up.
@Lym
"Oh yes. I forgot to actually give it to you. I don't know how I could have gotten so distracted. Well anyway, here you are, dear. Made with love from the scales from a hated foe."
@Thordak "With a little time, we can get some stuff in here. We can bring in some tents and pillows and chairs. And I can cast Wall of Stone and Stone Shape to make more permanent dwellings."
@Praxim "Lym and I can get us back and forth. And Aurora can learn too, if she wants."
Aurora laughs at the interplay between Praxim and Thordak, before turning to Rexil, staring up at his hulking form many times the size of herself.
Well Rexil, I think you have chosen an excellent mentor, Praxim leads by example and is someone we could all do with behaving more like! As for myself, I think I will simply give you one piece of wisdom for now: In battle the most important thing is not the size of the warrior in the fight... it's the size of the fight in the warrior...
She blows him a kiss and jogs after Thordak
Now now Master Thordak, I've taken a shine to those chairs in the library too, one woud think the craftsmen had folk of our size in mind as they were building the furniture, so comfortable am I finding them! Now, I beg your indulgence, but I was passing by a shop when I was in Magnimar a few days back and I saw something that I absolutely thought you have!
the sound of their conversation dwindles in to the distance as the two return to the library.
Aurora's lips part in a silent 'O' and her eyes are wide.
Mistress Blackhand... I fear you have outdone yourself... a marvellous feat of magical engineering and ingenuity...
The sorceress brings her own magic to bear and views the stone walls of the place through a lens of arcane energy, murmuring her appreciation under her breath as she surveys the way the place has been woven together. Finally she shakes her head in wonder.
Castle Lym is just the right name of course!
Her laughter fills the space around the group as Thordak mentions chairs
As Tomaru notes, we can fashion rooms or corridors or whatever we want here, I'll even sculpt you a copy of one of the lbrary chairs if you fancy Master Ironheart! Though Mistress Lym should plan out how she wants to divide up her castle, you could have a library, laboratory, workshop, rooms for each of us if that's ok? What a wonderful sanctuary to be able to return to... a true home for us
She sits cross-legged on the floor, palms flat against the stone underneath her. Absent-mindedly she nods
Yes Tomaru, I would like to learn how to travel between here and the material plane, I may take some time to unlock such mysteries though...
Tomaru will, still spend much time crafting. He'll also act as gopher between Jorgenfist and Magnimar, always bringing back gifts for Lym.
He'll work to make Castle Lym more comfortable for everyone. He'll use Wall of Stone and Stone Shape as well as bring in building supplies to make quarters for everyone. Though he's made a room for himself, he copies much of what he did in the dragon cave for the quarters he hopes to share with Lym.
Cast Hallow with Invisbility Purge on Castle Lym to improve its security.
His time in the library will be spent using the orizan Scriviner's Chant to copy books for Lym. Several he'll copy twice to give a copy to Brodert Quink back in Sandpoint or to sell to other collectors to purchase supplies for Castle Lym. (I figure that will be a wash).
Will ask Lym to scribe 4 Scrolls of Plane Shift. One will be left in Castle Lym and one will be given to Aurora.
I believe that I am now ready to continue on.