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The Salty Kraken is happy to see the Azlanti general free, even if she only has a hazy recollection of who he is from Janira's stories. "I always wondered what old Azlant was like. Daeris, can you ask him more about those colonies? He's saying some neat stuff, but I have no context for any of it."
The Salty Kraken then thinks for a moment, one fist resting under her chin. "Oh, I know! Tell him we've got our own colonial troubles, and that I get where he's coming from. I'm from Taldor, so that's basically true..."
"And hey, ask him if he ever says any cool one-liners in battle!" she adds.
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Click. Whirr.
"I'm a dragon, RAWR!"
"I'm fierce and scary!"
"But also cute and loveable!"
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[b]But I can be a fierce warrior as well, General. I specialize in summoning flocks (or one) of eagles, and causing the very earth to open up beneath my enemies, making them fall in. Perhaps that could be a useful tactic in the future. Your foes will flee in terror if the earth is swallowing them whole.
Intimidate Aid Another
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Success in all three areas!
The General is surprised by your comments about the stars. “Of course we have colonies in the stars, and we’re not the only ones! The scuttlebutt is that these serpentfolk came to Golarion from some distant world. Why do you think that they speak the tongue of madness? They brought it with them from some dark place beyond the stars! Have your people truly not found the way to travel beyond your world?” He sighs and looks to Daeris. “I know that the elves are insular at times but... if any group is capable, surely it is your folk. I’ve never seen more cunning mages than those found amongst the elves.”
His eyes, blue tinted with a deep purple, study you. “Not that all our colonial exploits were wise, mind you. The moon scar...” He shakes his head. “We did that, in a mistaken attempt at forming the moon into a warm and inviting garden. We ripped a tear in the planes and then had to fight off demons from the abyss!” He sighs. “But our colony at Akiton was successful. The people of Arl proudly joined our empire, adopting our language, our culture, our ways. You should see the city we built there. It’s a marvel!”
The General continues to open up to you, telling you personal things that would also qualify as state secrets in his time. However, some part of him senses that you are not from his time, and unlikely to leak these details to enemies either within or outside the Azlant Empire.
“Lost my brother Urterre to the Silent Servitors, who watch outside and within for threats to the empire. He ran coded messages between the colonies and the homeland, but was never quite the same after his ship was lost at sea for three weeks. His body healed just fine, but his eyes... they always seemed so distant and afraid after that.”
“Urterre died in my arms. The dagger was warm in his back. Passed along the documents to me, but the only words he could muster were ‘Minister Erodel wears the veil. Amaznen save the senate.’ He seemed half-mad by then.”
The General shares a couple more tidbits of Azlanti culture, showing the significance of his clothing, and talking more of his family.
“My wife is always trying to tie my chiton like an imperator, not like a general. See how it goes over, around, then under? I ask if she wants her husband flogged, and she just says she’d rather have her husband sit on the senate. Not a... not a subtle lady. Gods, I miss her.” He brings a little painted portrait out of his jacket and shows it to all of you.
“Her name’s Vanaschen. I know, I know—am I crazy to have married a woman of the Eastern Colonies? I thought mother was mad when she arranged the marriage. I shouted out the garden blessing, I was so damn mad. But I suppose we’re all like that at that age. Once my whiskers came in and I stopped thinking of myself, I saw her for who she was: this fiery, passionate woman who didn’t need any of my excuses. Her father and my mother still argue over whose family officially joined whose—if we’re still Azlanti or perhaps tainted by Kellid blood. I swear Vanaschen would conquer both peoples just to quiet them, if she didn’t find it so damn funny. The way she pushes me to step up into mother’s senate seat, I think we’re still Azlanti.”
The General raises an amused eyebrow at Daeris’s comment. “My warriors are no cowards! They didn’t surrender in the field, and if these snakes hadn’t taken their sikkar—their coiled knives—they never would’ve been taken alive.” He sketches the battlefield for a moment on the temple floor. “We had separated into two regiments, with shield walls, and I sent the left flank wide to take the serpentfolk from behind. We’d been clashing near the mouth of the Ilssele for years, trying to push the colonies’ eastern borders.”
He grins. “The key to battling serpent-men is the night battle, or making your main thrust at dusk. Then the fatigue of battle hits the same time as the cold reaches their hearts. Slows them down. That was General Akorian’s secret to victory at Esrogas, when they tried to land on the homeland itself, and it still works all these years later.” Then he frowns once more. “Their war-beasts are fearsome, but subterfuge is truly what tore our lines down. Misinformation spread among the ranks, dissenters and the magically compelled turning on their own brothers. I’ve fought human opponents, and loath as I am to spill another man’s blood, I’d take that clean death over the slow, strangling suffocation these monsters mete out.” He shakes his head and sighs. “They took the lines at Ilssele. Broke our backs and killed most of my men. Olhas was perhaps a day’s march beyond. I doubt very much it’s still there.”
___
The General is very friendly to all of you, and claps each of you on the shoulders before he returns back to his troops. “It is time for me to go back to the job we started. It is time for me to rejoin my people in their fight, and then maybe, when we’re done, I can return to my family’s villa. We have a lovely private island villa in the colonies, located south from the Mierani forests, hugging the coast east for four days and then a shot southeast from the southern cape. Maybe some time you can visit me there?” He smiles. “Thank you strange travelers for aiding us, and for talking with me. I hope that I helped you as you helped me.”
Indeed he did help you, for he gave the location of a future Azlant archaelogical dig! As you all achieved three outstanding skill successes here, you earn not one but...
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A crack of thunder and the tang of ozone cut through the complex. The figures before you, and indeed the walls, the floor, even the air itself seem to crumble and fall away like glittering sands through an hourglass. Unfamiliar figures—their heavy, hooded robes embroidered with the symbol of a winged eye—stand about the field, their hands crackling with lightning. Dozens of Pathfinder spellcasters lie dead at their feet. A gargantuan image of a woman appears and shimmers like a desert mirage. She has a regal bearing, but her features are lined as if by years of endless duty.
”Arrogant Pathfinders! Your ridiculous Society spends fortunes and lives to reassemble a treasure that turns time itself like the pages of a book—a key that could undo all the misery and suffering our world now knows—and you use it for this? Poking at snakes and playing at heroism? Golarion knew a true hero once! Our Lord Aroden—who raised the Starstone from the sea and imprisoned the undead tyrant Tar-Baphon—could already walk the world again were it not for your petty games and delays. Every death in your hours of playtime now hangs as a weight around your collective necks, you spoiled children.
“I am Lady Arodeth, and on behalf of the Harbingers of Fate and the God of Mankind himself, I have seized your Sky Key. Its defenders threw their lives away trying to stop compassion and destiny from returning to this world. I advise you not to throw your own lives away attempting to do the same.
“Behold the return of the Last Azlanti! Behold Aroden!”
The robed Heralds begin casting, and arcs of lightning leap to the rods made of skymetal. A deep thrum from somewhere below reverberates with chest-tightening force, then the earth begins to heave and quake. Emerald green miasma lashes out, snaking back along the arcs of arcane lightning and infecting hooded casters throughout the crowd. Your body—or perhaps the whole world—crumbles to dust and you hear a distant scream of “She's overloaded it!”
And just as swiftly, the world is whole again, but in place of a flower-speckled field stands the sprawling marketplace of a small city. Ivory-white buildings and columns feature reliefs and endless statuary all depicting physically perfect human specimens in poses of glory over serpentfolk. A chiton-clad crowd of gawkers stares, both at you and at the roiling dome of green light that encompasses nearly a square mile of territory, beyond which this strange city stretches on.
Robed Heralds panic as they sprint beyond the edges of the glistening dome, only to collapse just beyond its border. There they scream and writhe, their bones cracking as flesh and sinew age to dust in mere moments. Meanwhile, those unfortunates consumed by the green miasma scream and stagger, their features warping and bloating as if the power seeking refuge within them were too big for mere flesh to contain.
And high overhead, a looming stone glows with a light visible even in the growing light of dawn.
___
As you look around you, you realize that your arrival in this city in the past has not gone unnoticed. A crowd of humans have gathered about you, staring in shock not only at Reesa, Balon, Sparkle-Weave, Orin and Cacumattus, but also at many of the other odd looking Pathfinders who have found themselves transported here.
The crowd of onlookers starts muttering, looking angry then defensive, yelling in Azlanti. One mother pulls her children protectively behind her as she shouts at you. “যারা নিয়তি আনতে, তফাৎ যাও স্ক্যান! আমাদের শহরে ত্যাগ এবং আপনার সাথে আপনার নিয়তি নিতে!!”
Another shouts, , while waving to some confused and scared-looking men in an armored uniform.
“Call the guards!”
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You can attempt to talk your way out of this, but there appears to be a language barrier... What do you do?
Given that they're repeating themselves a lot, Reesa may read the Azlanti spoilers.
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Yep, they don't understand the celestial.
You can try to use diplomacy to gesture your harmlessness... Or you can see if there is anyone in your party that happens to have the tongues spell* on them.
Alternatively, you can attempt an intimidate roll to get them to just back off.
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Daeris tries to remain calm while the others attempt to work out what is going on. "They used to speak Common, have they lost that ability now?"
«Մենք նկատի ունեմ ձեզ ոչ մի վնաս: Պարզապես ցույց են տալիս մեզ, թե ինչպես պետք է դուրս գալ, եւ մենք կարող ենք գնալ»:
It occurred to her that as these were soon to die anyway, it would matter little if they did have to fight their way out, but she did not voice this idea.
The azlantis blink their eyes in incomprehension. "অপেক্ষা করুন, সে কি বলছে?"
One scratches his head. "মনে হয় এটা সূচালো-কান হতে হবে. তিনি একটি সূচালো-কান হয় সে না?"
Her friend gives him a dope slap. "বোকা! শব্দ পরী হয়!"
He rubs his head. "পরী. রাইট."
"Think it must be pointy-ear. She's a pointy-ear, isn't she?"
"Idiot! The word is 'elf'!"
"Elf. Right."
It occurs to those listening in that these may not be the most educated azlantis that they've met.
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Cacumattus drinks the potion of tongues he got in his care package and addresses the onlookers. "নাগরিক, আমরা আপনাকে বলতে চাচ্ছি কোন ক্ষতি আমরা এখানে আমাদের ইচ্ছার বিরুদ্ধে আনা হয়েছে, এবং শুধু একটি উপায় বাড়ি খুঁজে বের করতে চান. এই সময়ের মধ্যে আমরা কোনো সাহায্যের প্রস্তাব আমরা দিয়ে..." he gestures helplessly to the sky, "দিতে পারেন চাই যাই হোক না কেন যে চলছে আকাশে."
Cacumattus speaks perfect Azlanti and the citizens pause for a moment, open-mouthed.
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The Salty Kraken grimaces at the quickly approaching rock in the sky, eyes wide and nervous. She shares this look with the Azlanti citizens around her, trying not to upset them any further. She slowly puts her guisarme away, hooking it to her back.
She holds her hands up in a sign of peace and mutters to the other Pathfinders, "What are we supposed to do about the huge flying rock in the sky threatening to kill us all?"
The Azlanti crowd quiets down and mumbles their apologies. One old woman comes out says, “ভ্রমণকারীরা ... তুমি খুব অদ্ভুত হয় কিন্তু সম্ভবত আপনি কোন ক্ষতি হতে দিবে. এখনো ... আপনি একটি ভয়ঙ্কর সময়ে আসা. আপনি কি মনে করেন আপনি আকাশে যে ভয়াবহ সঙ্গে মোকাবেলা করতে পারেন, আমরা আপনার চেষ্টা করার অনুমতি দেবে.” She then nods to the others, and they step back to give you space.
As they do, a familiar figure limps out from between two buildings. The weight of years seems to hang over Kreighton Shaine, the Pathfinder Society's illustrious Master of Scrolls, his face more deeply lined than it was this morning. “My apologies for not reaching you more quickly, but I have been quite distracted. Did I hear someone just ask about the flying rock? Excellent question!” He pants for a moment, steadying himself on Ely's arm.
To the left and right across the ancient marketplace, other versions of Kreighton Shaine are speaking to other, equally bewildered Pathfinders. “It seems redundant to say so at this point, but the Harbingers of Fate have seized control of the Sky Key, and we all appear to be trapped in what the Isle of Kortos used to be eons ago. The same sort of temporal bubble that brought the serpentfolk city of Sessegishoss to us now keeps our forces pinned down here.”
He frowns as he looks out at the time bubble and the ever approaching asteroid.
“We are attempting to uncover the Sky Key Vault now. While the vault itself seems to be here in this time period, our entrance to it wasn't projected back, and we've lost our bearings relative to its location in this new landscape. What's more, I worry simply reclaiming the Sky Key will not be enough to allow our escape— that green surge we all witnessed seems to have invested many of the Harbingers with enough of the Sky Key's energy to maintain our chronological exile.”
Shaine looks worriedly up at the sky. “We will need to work together to uncover the vault and cut the tethers that anchor this time period to the Harbingers' spellcasters. We must do both so we can use the Sky Key to escape.” A crack of thunder sounds overhead as the dome of green light twists and arcs down to the surface with a thunderous crash, and strange, hairy beasts stride where it struck. “And we would be wise to move quickly.”
Shaine hurriedly rummages through his bag, grabbing out a bunch of familiar potion bottles. He distributes a single potion of cure moderate wounds to each of you. “Here, take these. I'm sure that they'll help. Or maybe they won't and we'll all die and it won't matter! Do you have any further questions before we move on? Or have you already figured it all out?” He looks at you hopefully, eyebrows raised.
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"Do you think these folks would be able to point us to the vault?" asks The Salty Kraken, jerking a thumb at the Azlanti citizens.
"And I'm with Daeris on this one! If cutting the tethers is as simple as cutting down some of those harbinger clods, this'll be easy!" she adds with a wicked grin. It quickly turns to a pursed frown as she wrinkles her forehead in thought. "Hey, K.S.?" she directs to the Master of Scrolls, "Why are there a bunch of copies of you here, by the way?"
Kreighton Shane turns to Ely, regarding her question of how he can be everywhere at once. “Oh? Oh, this. It's part of a rather questionable ritual I uncovered and performed in the Grand Lodge several years ago. It allows me to repeat a recent period in time so long as I do so close to Absalom. The eldritch power appears to function across time, but I have thus far been unable to extend its benefits to anyone else. Certainly hope there are no unspeakable consequences for it…”
He pauses, considering your other questions. “How do we separate the Harbinger of Fate mages from the temporal energy inside them? That's the lovely part: I'm not completely sure. Advanced magical theory was always more Aram's bag. But then, it does seem to be a sort of magic, so anything you have to shut down magical effects should do the trick. And if it is a magical effect, it will certainly expire upon their deaths—tragic, certainly, but better than all of us dying here.” He nods to Ely and Daeris.
Then he looks at Reesa and Cacumattus and to Ely again, thinking for a moment. “Then again, I just saw the group of you talk a mob of terrified people down. These Harbinger spellcasters must be of some relative skill based on the spells they performed. You may be able to coax them into dismissing the effects themselves, though their temporal investitures seem to have made them a bit… erratic.”
“How to we find the Sky Key Vault? Divine providence? I'm not sure, as it's made of steel and sky metals, but also buried approximately 30 feet beneath the earth, which shields it from most of our available divinations. I remain open to suggestions. Your idea of asking the locals sounds like a very good start.”
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You’ll need to do 5 tasks to find the vault. There are a number of creative ways you can take here. Some of these are worth more than one task.
That's original, but I'll give it to you!
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"Listen, this may be the legendary heart of Azlant, but it's still a city," The Salty Kraken reasons. "They're still human--er, I think?--and there's bound to be urban legends about something like a vault, or some place where scoundrels and the sort like to hang out because it's secluded. Cacumattus, if you can help me ask around about that sort of thing, I'm sure we'll get some leads."
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Daeris cuts her eyes sideways at Shane when he mentions 'unspeakable consequences' but this was hardly the time to rebuke the elder for his reckless use of magic. Perhaps he would know better if they survived this debacle.
She considers the problem of an entire room travelling back in time. "It's unlikely that the earth displaced by an underground room would simply cease to exist. It must have been displaced. That would leave tell-tale signs, such as cracks in the earth or places where the vegetation has been pushed up and ripped away from it's original position."
Daeris begins looking for signs of this phenomena.
Balon uses his knowledge of Aroden lore to make suppositions on where the vault might be. Sparkle-Weave sends an earth elemental to scout deep beneath the earth. Reesa questions the crowd, which is now much more friendly and helpful to the strangers in their midst. Ely uses her knowledge of city layouts, and Daeris looks for signs of the earth being displaced.
An arc of green lightning gathers above and crashes to the surface, leaving something bizarre in its wake! Kreighton looks up in fascination and starts taking notes. “Oh, what a magnificent example of a time storm! Have you ever seen anything like it?”
Terrible thundering lizards from the dawn of time — ravenous and aggressive— crash into the Azlanti city. Pathfinders all around you face off against all manner of dinosaurs, and you see another ankylosaur turn towards you, thrashing the earth with its claws and thumping its huge armored tail angrily.
SNORT! THUMP. THUMP.
Everyone but Orin is up!
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The Salty Kraken shoots Kreighton Shane an annoyed look. "Focus! We've got company!" she snaps, running forward and pulling her weapon off her back. Standing on the platform in the plaza, she reaches down and cranks a switch on her belt, causing her to soar in height. She smirks and bellows in her larger, booming voice, "Come on, you stinky lizard!"
Ely positions herself, readying herself for a trip on the angry Ankylosaurus! Reesa summons.
Guen, Cacumattus, Daeris, and Balon are up!
Sparkle summons. Daeris curses and fires her bow, the arrow plinking off the creature's amazing armor.
Click. Whirr.
Balon moves, then allows his teeth to extend, shakes out his cape, expends a point of mental focus and uses his DC 15 mind fear on the creature that looks like it's readying to charge the party.
The creature, not having seen many undead, is shaken!
As there is a bunch of things Cacumattus can do here, I'm going to delay him and let him take two turns when his turn comes up.
Kreighton looks a bit shaken when Ely calls him out, and he puts away his notebook. "Oh yes. Focus. Er, right. Sorry, my mind feels like it's in thirty-three places at once at the moment. I'm a little distracted!" Kreighton Shane casts haste on the party and runs out of the creature's trample path.
Meanwhile, the Ankylosaurus runs forward and gets flipped by Ely, whose action is made successful by the haste!
He thumps angrily as he crashes and then attempts to get up. This provokes an attack of opportunity.
The whole party is up!