Suddenly, a shadow looms over the battle between halfling and div, followed a moment later by cheers. They both look up in surprise and are treated to a truly terrifying sight: 280lbs of raging half-orc falling directly from fifteen foot above the pair, both of whom are only a tiny fraction of his size . Forrest, quick as ever, manages to step aside, feeling only a massive whoosh of air as the floating div is re-introduced to the laws of physics. Yaiho lands in a heap on the floor, barrels smashed to splinters all around him and for a second it looks like the doru used his invisibility yet again to get away. However, when Yaiho gets back to his feet and picks up his weapon, you can see the smudge that is all that remains of the annoying creature smeared across the hammer's head.
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Danicka lets out a shriek as Yaiho literally leaps off the roof at the div.
Seeing him survive the fall (and Forrest survive the attack), Danicka slumps onto the roof and fans herself, looking quite pale.
Arin's reassuring touch seems to soothe her--likely preventing her from fainting--but as she nods at him and sees him look so... vacant... she shivers.
"Thank-y-y-you," she tells him with a gentle smile.
After a bit of catching her breath, Danicka crawls across the roof to the mask and puts in in her backpack, then she crawls back to the ladder and hurries down to ground level where she gives Prickles a gigantic hug.
---
Before they leave, Danicka nervously walks up to Yaiho and stammers, "You should b-b-be more c-careful, Yaiho." Then she blushes brightly and wanders off to walk with Prickles.
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Rook looks over the edge down at the commotion created by the Half-Orc comet. He shakes his head then lets out a bestial cheer!
"I am going to have to name a bomb after you one of these days, Yaiho!"
He then sighs as he realizes researching some new bombs might be exactly what he needs with his being useless against this Doru.
Maybe if I use a catalyst like that holy water or some frost oil I can get the blast to be more effective against things like this...everything burned easily enough back in Belkzen.
Recovering from his thoughts he turns to Arin and thanks him.
He climbs down and checks on the others.
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Not feeling the pain as he lands but only paying attention to the dead creature before him. He raises his hammer and lets out a mighty, victorious roar.
He lets his rage subsides and leans up against the wall as fatigue overcomes him, but thankfully it only last for a moment. When the others come back down, Yaiho gives a cheery smile. "Yaiho make head go splat."
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Whoa! Forrest manages to leap out of the way just in time! He lays there in a mess for a moment, his life flashing before his eyes. So many things left undone! So many kills left to steal from Brock! So many bars to get Danicka drunk in! After a few seconds he sits up and wipes the blood and soot off his clothes. "Yaiho, travelling with you certainly raises my laundry bills! Though it does reduce the medical ones! " He scratches his head and looks for dried blood. "I should be able to walk this one off. What do you say, shall we take this mask back and get those scrolls? "
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Recovering from his thoughts he turns to Arin and thanks him.
Abyssal:"Hey sweaty! I appreciate the help back there but be wary of who you make deals with...they usually come out on top."
He grimaces at the luck of it as he explains.
By the time you return to Murqual's shop, the sun has almost entirely set, the hot evening turning into another uncomfortably warm, still night. "Ah, you were successful I take it?" The real Murqual asks eagerly when he sees you with the mask, all pretence of being a translator, forgot, "It has been my deepest pleasure doing business with you. I have already had the Monadistic Archive brought around to the seating area, in anticipation of your success." He takes the mask back and leads you to the comfy furnishing in the centre of the shop, where a large, gilded pauelielwood chest awaits, "Please take it with my compliments to Venture-Captain Yuul. I sincerely hope that we can do business again in the future, my friends. I am always on the lookout for resourceful business partners." He directs his last remarks pointedly at Rook and Brock, "But I do ask that you keep the business with my other self between us. I find that doing business as an interpreter to be most helpful in negotiations. Especially in the event of a disgruntled or violent customer... I'm sure you understand." Once you hand over the Abadaran promissory note worth 10,000gp, you are free to carry the heavy chest back through the nightstalls and towards Farseer Tower.
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When you return to Farseer Tower, you are ushered back to the meeting chamber on the top floor. The room has undergone some changes over the past few hours. The furniture has been pushed aside, and the resulting empty carpet space has cushions laid out in a circle. Unlit candles stand in a silent circle around the cushions. The formerly open windows are shut, perhaps to prevent the candles being snuffed by a stray breeze once lit, not that it makes a difference on this still night.
Wulessa Yuul is eager to see you, and she's positively ecstatic when she sees that you are carrying the archive chest, "Excellent! After all this time..." She says with a wide smile and a cheerful tone that is in stark contrast to your last meeting. "Please, set it down over there by the wall." She points at a recently cleared section and follows eagerly as you set it down in the requested spot, unable to take her eyes off the Archive, "Excellent work everybody. I shall take a full account of your adventures this night shortly, but for now... I need some more of your assistance."
She kneels down in front of the chest and, after allowing herself a moment to stroke the soft wood of the lid, opens it up and sifts reverently through the scrolls, unrolling and examining several, holding a few up to her ears, and seeming to listen to them as she continues talking. "As I said before, these scrolls are relics of the Jistkan Imperium from thousands of years ago. What information I’ve found indicates that the Monadistic Archive recorded the thoughts and minds of some of the greatest thinkers of that empire. Not merely recorded in the written word—supposedly they copied the very minds of these men and women. Some binding entity within the scrolls brings these minds together into a collective of wisdom and lore, where each mind is no longer a discrete part, but melded into a greater whole. The ritual I have prepared should allow me to open the archive, but the effort of doing so prevents much exploration on my part. If I include you in the ritual, you can be my eyes and ears. Of course, this is not a process that can be completed in one night. This could take years. In the long run, a full team will be assigned cataloguing duties, but tonight I cannot resist at least one brief expedition." She turns and smiles at Arin and Danicka, "I have sought the archive for so long, and you expressed interest in how the scrolls worked. I would be honoured if you would help me with this first brief foray into the mind of the past." She looks at all of you expectantly, absently stroking the side of the chest.
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Brock nods at the merchant's request for discression. Sure, that information would be worth something to the right person, but a continued working relationship with the, less than scrupulent, merchant will likely pay bigger dividends.
"A wise deception, we will respect your wishes on this matter. If you have further... business... before we leave the city, be sure to enquire."
Taking his leave with the rest of the crew, he simply takes in the stalls and merchants as he walks along.
This is my kind of place, I bet a man of my skills could do quite well here. Brock Swiftread, first merchant of Katapesh, none dare to challenge his authority as the graveyards are full of the fools who tried, the streets echo with the wails and lamentations of their women and family.... yeah, I like that.
After turning in the scrolls Brock says little except a simple, "Sure, what can go wrong."
Likely summon a Duke of Hell instead of some old academic.
He does make sure his weapons are loaded and ready, just in case.
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"I hope this mind is cooler than this room. It's hotter than Abadar's hairy armpit in here. " Forrest shrugs, willing to assist. He looks around the room then raises a hand. "Wait, can we bring Prickles? She's kind of attached to him. And he's pretty good at watching for innocent civilians. " He smiles at Danicka, then at the frightening desert dog.
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Rook claps a hand on Arin's shoulder as an awkward attempt to comfort him.
A curse like that sounds dangerous. To our enemies and ourselves.
This time in common he speaks to him while they walk back. "Curse aside the blood is strong. They say I was born with the eyes of a dragon. I wonder what is in your blood."
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He nods to Marqual.
"In business we keep each others secrets...that is unless we are rivals but my specialty isn't artifacts. We will keep in touch!"
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Rook makes it clear by his expression being thrust into some magical device is not on his bucket list but coin is coin.
"First we have demons coming out of objects and now she wants to put us in the object. You can break the ritual if necessary, right? Ah hell we are going to do it either way aren't we?" he says looking at the others.
"Excellent!" Wulessa says as the agents agree to help her, and she pulls out a large scroll from the chest. She thinks on Forrest's question as she starts lighting candles and snuffing the other lights, "I think that's unlikely. You need to have a strong mind to complete this ritual, but while our minds will enter the Mondadistic Archive, our bodies remain here without any sense of our surroundings. The doors are warded, and my servants trustworthy. So no one will harm our bodies while we are away, but..." She turns to Danicka, "If it would make you more comfortable to have your pet close, you may have him sit next to you in the circle. It shouldn't disrupt the ritual in any way."
She invites everyone to sit down on the cushions aranged in a circle on the floor, and sits down cross-legged herself, "I'm sure I can, but I confess that this is all new to me so I can make no promises." She says to Rook, as she gets herself comfortable, "If anyone has any more questions, now is the time to ask them."
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"Oh, my! How exciting!" Danicka squeals as she's offered the opportunity to enter the Mondadistic Archive.
Am I worthy?
Suddenly her eyes widen and looks pale. With a few deep breaths, Danicka sits down on the cushions. She fans herself.
Oh, I have a bad feeling about this! ...But imagine all I could learn!
Be brave! You're a Pathfinder now! And a hero! ...sometimes! BE BRAVE!
"Come here, Prickles. You protect my body while I'm gone, okay?". She pats him affectionately. After a moment she adds a meek, "And don't eat me... Please?"
Danicka clutches her staff in her lap, then nods.
"R-r-ready..." she squeaks softly.
Prickles walks up beside Danicka and sits beside her. He accepts the scratches and patting with obvious pride. As she meekly suggests he protect her, Prickles preens and looks very pleased with himself. Clearly, Prickles knows he's the one in charge.
He adopts a defensive stance and growls at everyone, warning them away from his meek, frail pet, Danicka.
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"Yes, I would very much like that opportunity, thank you! I have questions of my own that could potentially be answered. You see, I have divine patrons but I know neither their identity nor their intentions. I won't override the expedition with my desires, but should the opportunity present itself...."
He settles into the circle for the ride, uncharacteristically eager for the usually stoic, distant gnome.
"Good, good." Wulessa says, with a warm smile, clearly very eager to get started. As she waits for everyone to get comfortable, the excited Venture-Captain unrolls the scroll she took from the chest and places before her. "Okay, so now everyone needs to link hands, like this..." She quickly takes the hands of Yaiho and Rook either side of her, and focuses on the writing on the scroll, "The incantation will take a few minutes, but all you have to do is make sure you don't let go of each other, I'll do the rest." A deep breath, "Here we go!" Wulessa then begins a sin-song recitation in Jistkan that lasts a good four minutes, her voice echoing around the candle-lit room.
As Wulessa Yuul finishes her invocation, she bows her head over the unfurled scroll, and the room falls silent. The only thing breaking the quiet is the snapping of the curtains, billowing in a heavy wind. Curiously, the breeze does not stir any other fabrics in the room; even the Monadistic Archive’s scroll lies flat on the floor. The doors remain sealed, and there is no sign the seance achieved its goal.
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Brock glances around the room at the apparent lack of... well, anything.
He nearly blurts out a customary sarcastic comment, but manages to hold his peace in a desire not to disrupt the seance.
OK ominous wind and the papers not moving, that's not creepy at all. Arch Duke from one of the Nine Hells in three, two, one ...
Nothing strikes Arin as out of the ordinary, except perhaps, that the scroll on the floor is now devoid of text. However, Wulessa remains silent, her head bowed low over the now blank scroll.
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Danicka blushes brightly as she takes the others' hands, clearly shy and embarrassed. She looks at the floor and falls silent.
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A shiver runs through her as the curtains flap in the breeze....
She waits...
And waits...
"H-h-hello?" she eventually asks the scroll.
She blushes brightly, curious if she's ruined the ritual.
Was I... unworthy?
---
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...Wulessa then begins a sin-song...
Forrest keeps his lips shut and tries to blink the sweat out of his eyes. If this is the dream world, I hate whoever made it. IT'S STILL HOT AS HELL! He sits there quietly and resists the urge to wipe off Arin's sweat from his hands. Why... like, he's nice and all but... why did I sit next to sweaty McCreepy pants?
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...Wulessa then begins a sin-song...
[dice=Perception]1d20+4
Forrest keeps his lips shut and tries to blink the sweat out of his eyes. If this is the dream world, I hate whoever made it. IT'S STILL HOT AS HELL! He sits there quietly and resists the urge to wipe off Arin's sweat from his hands. Why... like, he's nice and all but... why did I sit next to sweaty McCreepy pants?
Everybody looks around anxiously, anticipating danger, or looking for signs that the ritual is working, but still nothing happens. Minutes pass in total silence until, finally, Danicka speaks. Wulessa Yuul's shoulders begin to bob up and down, her head bowed over the empty scroll, sobbing... No wait, laughing? Suddenly she throws her head back, revealing a hideous, twisted visage of nightmarish features: her face more gaunt than before, with bloodshot eyes, hooked nose, and warts all over, "You have fallen into my trap." She sneers through crooked teeth, her voice is several pitches higher than before, and has a strange echo to it. Yaiho is surprised to find that, although he is squeezing Wulessa's hand tight, she has started to grip his even tighter, her nails digging in painfully as she snaps her head around, "" Wild cackling ensues as she rips her hands from the grip of both Yaiho and Rook, bounds to her feet and vanishes in the blink of an eye.
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Snesing his pet's fear, Prickles stands and growls menacingly, ready to attack anything that threatens her...
Danicka remembers with some relief that hags, unlike the last creature you fought, are not immune to fire. In fact, they have no special defences that she can recall.
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Brock scrambles to his feet, shouldering his musket as he looks for the monster in the darkened room.
"Some light would be welcome magic users! I can't kill what I can't see."
Hearing Danicka disclaim it is a hag, "Are hags immune to bullets in the face? Cause I'm gonna shoot her in the face!"
Wulessa appears behind Yaiho, raking him across the back with long jagged fingernails, "Open up!" She cackles, "Orc kidneys go well with halfling lips and tender human eyelids..." With her other hand, she swats Forrest's sword aside with a derisive sneer just before it strikes, her unnaturally strong fingernails clattering against steel. Despite all the bodies in the way, Brock is sure he hit the hag in the face like promised, only to realise that he aimed for one of the many shadows formed by the dim light cast from the circle of candles. As the bullet strikes the wall behind, narrowly missing her ear, Wulessa hisses at Brock, "I'll eat your lungs for dessert!"
You only suffer 1hp of damage (reduced by DR to 0) this round instead of the listed 7 (reduced by DR to 6). If you failed your fortitude save, you only suffer 1 Str damage instead of 2.
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Arin, having his crossbow bolt loaded and ready to go notices his front-liners are having a bit of trouble with light. He shouts some spell-words in abyssal, in a voice seemingly louder than likely for a gnome. His eyes and mouth glow bright yellow before a beam shoots over towards Brock. As soon as this can be seen, the light beam disappears, Arin's appearance returns to normal, and Brock's armor begins to glow with additional light.
Brock drops his musket and hustles towards Wulessa, sinking his heavy pick deep into her side. She screams in pain and raises a hand, full of freakishly long jagged nails, to strike back, but Danicka hits her hard with a magical bolt first, pushing the hag forcefully back onto the wall. Wulessa looks at the wizard in horror, as one of Rook's bombs smashes on the wall beside her, engulf the besieged hag in flames. The horrific screaming stops long before the flames die down, and Wulessa Yuul starts sliding slowly down the wall, her face twisted in agony. She's almost certainly dead, but Forrest steps up and makes certain, piercing her heart with his silver rapier. By the time Yaiho turns around it is already over, Wulessa lays in a smouldering heap on the floor. A moment later, Brock's armour bursts into light, giving the Pathfinders a good view as Wulessa Yuul's corpse dissolves into shadow. Nothing is left, except the scroll that the Venture-Captain held during the ritual.
The room is quiet once again, except for the snapping of the curtains, billowing in heavy wind.
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Brock looks at the hag-captain with a frown on his face as he shakes the blood from his pick.
"Does this mean we don't get paid? Cause I'll kill her again if we don't get paid."
Squinting at the corpse, he muses "Something isn't right, she's too ... shadowy, like this is an illusion or something. Is it possible we are not really... here?"
Looking at the smarter members of the group, he snorts and shrugs, "You all figure it out, I'll just kill the next crazy magic thing that shows up and tries to eat us."
He scoops up his musket and loads a normal ball into it, making ready for whatever is next.