Phil's PFS Game (Inactive)

Game Master electricjokecascade

An amusing series of mishaps both deadly and enlightening that our Pathfinder Society members shall stumble through.


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Victory in the Ruby Phoenix Tournament earned the Pathfinder Society a pick of the legendary treasures of the Tian sorceress Hao Jin, and the Decemvirate knew just what item to select: a frayed and dirty tapestry hidden deep in Hao Jin’s vault. This unassuming tapestry acts as a doorway to another dimension in which Hao Jin stored her most massive items, including entire buildings, battlefields, and the ruins of ancient civilizations. The Pathfinder Society is now methodically exploring and cataloging the diverse locales tucked within this extra-dimensional space.

Deep beneath Absalom’s Grand Lodge, the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Spells, Aram Zey, gestures at the tapestry hung on the wall, surrounded by ladders and scaffolds. Scholars and diviners scurry around the tapestry, analyzing its abstract patterns and comparing insights.

Zey snaps his finger to quiet the room and speaks rapidly. “The aasimar nation of Tianjing contains a handful of temples to Korada, Empyreal Lord of forgiveness and foresight. The Pathfinder Society is interested in exploring these holy sites, but the aasimar disciples in Tianjing are reluctant to grant the Pathfinder Society full access to their faith’s secrets. Fortunately, the custodian council of Tianjing gifted one such temple to Hao Jin centuries ago. This temple — the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment — now sits vacant within the museum demi-plane of the Hao Jin Tapestry. We need well-trained explorers to survey the isolated and abandoned site.

“We will transport you to the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment within the Hao Jin Tapestry and provide you with a small cache of supplies. We need a complete report on the temple with a focus on four key locations.

"First, locate the temple’s meditation room, find evidence of any meditative techniques described there, and record any effects of performing those techniques. Second, prepare a comprehensive catalog of all works in the temple library. Third, find the temple gardens and draft a detailed plan of the garden’s layout. Finally, enter the temple’s crypt and take rubbings of the carvings on each sarcophagus.

“You will enter the tapestry within the hour. Any questions?”

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Lord Navarion nods solemnly, with full focus on the Master of Spells as the details of his first expedition are explained. Navarion’s fine green and blue velvet robes ripple slightly as his pale slender tail flicks casually while he listens intently, and he shifts his weight as Aram Zey asks for questions. Without a bit of hesitation, Navarion replies in the neutral tone of an equal, “Master Zey, what supplies will be provided in the cache you mentioned?”


Avram Zey's dark eyes flick imperiously over the Taldoran tiefling as if seeing him for the first time.

"Lord Navarion." Was there a faint hint of derisiveness to the title? "You will be provided with ample rations, though perhaps not of the quality you are used to, along with water, ink, charcoal, parchment, rice paper a plenty, and of course, measuring twine. These shall ensure that you are able to execute your mission without hindrance."

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion considers Zey's response for a brief moment.
Knowledge: Nobility: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Realizing that Zey holds no title outside of the Pathfinder Society, Navarion dismisses Zey's potential condescension as an irrational dislike that the masses sometimes harbor for those of noble blood. He's encountered situations like this before, when those of lesser blood have tried to use their position within a private organization to erroneously elevate their social rank to equal his own. However, Zey has work that Navarion needs, and what's more is that Zey's reputation as a powerful mage precedes him. Navarion quickly determines that there is no reason to force the issue and risk losing the job, much less being turned into a toad, or worse.
Navarion nods again, saying with the slightest hint of deference, "Thank you for the clarification, Master Zey. If it meets with your approval, I will take the next hour to collect my things and ready myself for the task at hand."


Aram Zey arches a thick brow in mock amazement. "My approval? If you are to venture into the dangers that Golarion presents even our most fledgling of Pathfinders, then you should be able - no, fully capable - of packing your bags without permission."

He speaks just loudly enough for those working on the tapestry to stop and give awkward sidelong glances before resuming their work.

"But be that as it may, you have my 'approval'." He flutters a hand dismissively. "You may leave."

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion’s eyes narrow as Zey replies with his blatant, ostentatious, and cleverly rude retort. When Zey dismissively flicks his hand to dismiss Navarion, Navarion raises an eyebrow and responds, ”Master Zey, you have a talent for twisting polite conversation and address into a needless display of dominance. It leaves one to wonder about what you could possibly feel insecure. However, I thank you for giving me leave, and I shall take it now.” With that, Lord Nevarion turns casually and moves to leave the chamber.


"Master Zey, you have a talent -"

At this point Zey simply turns away, having made a snap decision that there's nothing more to be gained by listening, and strides back to the tapestry where he immediately begins interrogating a hapless young gnomish scholar with sharp, blunt questions.

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

A stern faced human with dirt brown hair and dark eyes towers silently to one side. He has been seen in these halls before, but no reputation proceeds him. The name Gisborne has been uttered, which may sound familiar to some, but to those with even the slightest knowledge of who's who in Absalom, the name is certainly not of noble blood.

A narrow chasuble of white and gold, raiments of Iomedae to those who may recognize the stylings, flutters as he moves to set pace alongside the Tiefling, Nevarion. Closer inspection reveals him to be in his early to mid twenties with no visible scars or markings. As he walks, he carries his left hand upon the scabbard of his longsword to keep it from swinging. He speaks in baritone with humble address.

“My lord, I believe I will accompany you on this mission. If I may, my name is Honus Gisborne, and it would be my honor to aid and protect you.”

Honus looks upon Nevarion's face and reflects upon the name for recognition... but comes up with nothing.
Knowledge, Nobility: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion gives the man an appraising sideways glance as his presence first presents itself at his flank. Navarion’s ire from his previous interaction with Zey still flaring hotly in his mind leads him to initially have only a half-formed thought, “ … Hell’s fury! Now I have to deal with an uppity Priest too! And an Iomedaish priest at that. What frustration is he going to …” As Gisborne begins to talk and then to introduce himself, Navarion comes to a casual stop and turns to face the priest directly. The hint (or plainly whitewashed) frustration begins to melt from his face, like acid rain washing away a layer of hell-fire soot on the cobbles that line the streets of the city of Dis. Navarion smiles politely, with a small measure of genuine pleasure, which allows the tips of his pointed eyeteeth to protrude from between his lips, and his fleshy tail begins to flick from side to side every so often, like a contented feline. ”Sir Gisborne, I believe that it will be a pleasure to work with you on this mission. I am happy to add your capabilities to my own, and together, I think we shall be more than capable of handling the task at hand. Did you overhear the briefing that Master Zey was … kind enough to provide, or would it be to your advantage to discuss the details with me?”

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus was apprehensive about flagging down the wizard immediately following the verbal joust with Zey, but he is set at ease when Nevarion stops to face him and gives a smile. He attempts to return that measure of politeness by locking eyes with his new companion so as not stare at the Tiefling's extra appendages or protrusions. He has seen others of his kind about the city, and knows they generally carry similar physical characteristics from their outsider lineage, though Nevarion is the first in which he has had any significant interaction.

Evil begets evil, but I must remember not to judge a man by his ancestry.

Honus nods and drifts back a half step so as not to stare down at the shorter man. "I did hear the briefing. My Lord, are you familiar with what we may find on the other side of the tapestry? As you may have already guessed, I have little knowledge of magic and... 'demi-planes' was it?" He crinkles his brow. "Do you know if the temple sits amongst the other ruins, or is it segregated in some way?"

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

"Ho, my stern faced companion! If it is mastery of arcane knowledge you seek, look no further. Fahim AlKhabyyr is here to illuminate any mystery that may be cloaked in the darkness of ignorance."

Honus and Mexus turn to see the loud proclamation came from a portly, well-tanned man with a long black beard and dressed in a fine white turban and kaftan. He finishes waddling up to the pair, holding his large adventurer's satchel to his side to avoid hitting it as he walks. The thick scent of jasmine wafts from him as he draws near, barely concealing the acrid sent of chemicals underlying it. His toothy smile seems practiced, as does the way he spreads out his bejeweled hands in a gesture of welcome.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16, to reflect how much of a good first impression Fahim has tried to make on Honus and Mexus.

"I will be joining you on our exploration of Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment, where we will no doubt find knowledge, fortune, and not a small amount of danger."

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus stands dumbfounded for a moment as the plump fellow belts out his words and bares his teeth excitedly. He then clears his throat to speak, attempting to match volume and cadence with the new-comer. Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

"Well, hello to you as well, good sir! Al-Khabyyr is it?" Honus puts his hand to his chest, then makes an exaggerated gesture toward Mexus in turn. "I am Honus Gisborne, and this is Lord Nevarion. I'm quite certain we are pleased to have you in our company. Regarding arcane knowledge, I was just asking the Lord if he knew much of demi-planes. It seems that is where the temple is, and I was curious if we would find other landmarks there as well, or if the temple is secluded."

He pauses to glance at the wizard, then back at Fahim. Hopefully he is mistaken about the amount of danger we may find. They look hearty enough, but I wouldn't want to have to rely on either in a fight.

Honus finally punctuates his introduction with a returned smile to the fat little fool. While not practiced, he can only hope that it comes off as genuine rather than exposing the tightening knots in his belly.

Bluff: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Just as Navarion was about to respond to Gisborne’s question, Al-Khbyyr appears and draws Navarion’s keen eye. As Gisbone introduces Navarion with his title intact, Navarion gives a polite nod to Al-Khabyyr, and then he returns Gisborne’s glance with a knowing, but ambiguous polite smile. Finally sensing a break in the conversation in which to insert himself, Navarion responds first by greating Al-Khabyyr, ”It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Al-Khabyyr. I am sure the vast knowledge of a cunning Garundi will serve us well to complete the goal that Master Zey has set for us. Your presence is most welcomed.” Navarion’s tail flicks from his right to his left as he concludes his statement with a polite nod.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6, to convey a sense of welcome and acceptance to Al-Khabyyr.
Mexus momentarily contemplates, ”Have I heard of the Al-Khabyyr family before? Are they nobles among the Garundi?”
Knowledge: Nobility: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

Regardless, a question has been posed that needs to be answered. Navarion seamlessly shifts his attention from Fahim to Honus, stating, ”I am well versed with respect to planes, demi-planes, and extra-dimentional spaces. I suspect that our travel through the tapestry will take us either to the entry way, or just outside the gates of the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment. However, that is far from guaranteed. Consulting with Master Zey regarding exactly where we will be transported may be worth clarifying with him.”

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

At mention of being called a Garundi, Fahim bristles with incredulity.

"Ha! I am no wandering Garundi, traveling the thousand dunes with no purpose or care. But I am not surprised by your ignorance. You would not be the first outsider too see a camel in place of a king."

Mexor's nobility roll confirms that Fahim is not of noble heritage.

Fahim then settles back down, his outburst ending as quickly as it started.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6, to see if he notices Honus' lack of faith in the "fat little fool."

He turns to Honus, seeming to barely sense the lack of sincerity in his words.

"Worry not my well spoken friend. It is right for you to be skeptical of a magic carpet before you have seen it fly. I will prove to you soon enough that you find yourself in trustworthy company. A man is his word and reputation, and I am no woman!"

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus's awkward smile fades to embarrassment at Lord Nevarion's seemingly unintended insult. When Fahim then turns to Honus and, rightlyfully, calls his demeanor into question, he tucks in his lip and reddens with shame.


A stunning figure rounds the corner and strides toward you, clearly intent on heading into the basement chamber within which Zey has housed the tapestry.

She's statuesque, clad in a flowing, ivory colored cloak that is marked with geometric red patterns, beneath which she wears a revealing outfit of similar cloth which does little to hide her coffee colored skin and sculpted physique.

Pale, milky eyes stare forthrightly from her stern face, her black hair curled in thick ropes which are banded with ribbons of silver. She wears an imperially ornate headdress of pale gold which gives her the appearance of a high priestess, and holds a blackwood staff topped with golden wings that unfold around a crystal eye in her right hand.

[[Character illustration | CHA 18, Diplomacy +7]]

Despite her seemingly blind eyes she strides toward your little group with haughty confidence, her path unerringly straight. For a moment it looks as if she will simply brush past you all, but then she hesitates and stops.

"Greetings. Would you be the Pathfinders assigned to Aram Zey's latest assignment?" Her voice is low, almost husky. Standing this close, you can each feel subtle waves of heat radiating off her body. "I was told that individuals of your description would be accompanying me into the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment."

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

Fahim quickly runs his hands over his beard, and smooths his kaftan, in a futile attempt to clean up his appearance. He clears his throat and smiles as he speaks.

"The gods have been merciful to send such a desert beauty to join us in our journey. I am Fahim Al-Khabyyr, and it would be my honor to accompany you into the Temple. However, I suspect you are more a mountain lioness, plenty capable of protecting herself, than a delicate dune blossom in need of sheltering from the storm."

Curse the wicked djinn that sent this jewel to me when I am not prepared to court her. Were we in Qadira, I would shower her with petals scented of a thousand exotic fragrances. I would brew drafts so divine that they would put the drinks served to the Satrapy to shame. I would make her the envy of every princess in the Padishah Empire. But fate has put her here and now, and I will not be left as helpless as a boy on his first visit to the Palace.

Fahim broadens his smile more, hoping that whiteness of this teeth will compensated for the stains in his garments.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15 to make a first impression.

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion recoils from Al-Kabyyr's outburst.

Maelephant dung! So much for first impressions. Try to salvage this, Mexus, the best way you know how; the best lies are merely the truth with a minor change in the details ...

Navarion replies in an even and measured sober tone, ”Sir Al-Khabyyr, I sincerely apologize for any offense that I have offered you. I know a thing or two about being judged and misjudged by one’s appearance and heritage. Please know that it was not my intent to insult you, and that I am deeply sorry for my mistake.” With that, Navarion gives a deep bow towards Al-Khabyyr.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16

As he rises, Navarion’s eyes shift to lock onto the blind(?) female. Navarion’s tail flicks from side to side, in minor frustration, as her appearnce and words interrupt the flow of conversation and prevent Al-Khabyyr from responding. However Navarion’s expression remains neutral. After she addresses the group, Navarion responds to her again with a careful and even tone, ”My lady, we are indeed the individuals that you seek. It would seem that our team is now assembled. I am Lord Mexus Navarion, and these gentlemen,” Mexus gestures with a flat upturned palm to his left and right towards each of the men, ”are Sir Honus Gisborne, and Sir Fahim Al-Khabyyr.” Navarion then waits patiently for a response, and gauges her movements and demeanor.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17 to convey a sense of welcoming to the woman, and
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19 to determine her mood and bearing.


Fahim rises to the occasion with silver tongued fluency, his accolades and compliments flowing with apparent sincerity and charm. His words, charming as they may be, are met however with an inscrutable stare from the woman. At the very least, it would seem that she is not offended.

Lord Mexus then delivers the introductions, and where Fahim's eloquence seemed to leave her untouched, his more reserved tone earns a nod from her head, and a faint smile that connotes appreciation if nothing more.

"Well met. I am Alahazra of Rhahadoum, bride of the sun and prophet of the burning sands." She speaks her title solemnly, her gravity serving to make her beauty untouchable, like that of a perfect statue within a cathedral. "I have many questions for Aram Zey. Shall we adjoin to the Tapestry Hall?"

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus's eyes dart about as he stands completely motionless except for fidgeting hands. At Alahazra's question to return to the Hall, he blurts out, "YES!", and continues to look flushed from a seemingly endless bout of embarrassment. He gives an awkward little chortle and tries to recover, but seems to go too far and his words come out too softly.

"Um. Yes. Good idea."

He spins on the ball of his foot and makes for a hasty retreat.

Diplomacy: Not rolled + 5 ⇒ (0) + 5 = 5

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Ugh...


The tapestry, when first viewed, is surprisingly mundane. Only about twelve feet wide, it appears ancient and worn, the designs faded and the colors muted. Many of the threads hang loose around the edges, and most of you have no doubt seen dozens of similar looking carpets, rugs, and tapestries for sale in bazaars and markets across Golarion.

This tapestry, however, is the center of much attention. The chamber is filled with light, such that no shadows can be seen anywhere. Perhaps a dozen scholars, experts, and magicians stand before the tapestry, some actively working on complex metamagics, while others are merely content to take sketches of certain designs and compare them to dusty tomes whose pages lie open before them. The air crackles with the hum of erudite men and women doing what they love best: seeking to understand a near legendary item of power.

Aram Zey stands front and center before the tapestry, both hands raised, a complex web of glowing white strands and sigils hanging in the air before him. His lips murmur almost soundlessly as his fingers trace the pattern, but he catches the glances of some scholars before him as they look at your group, and with a sigh lets the complex web collapse into nothingness before turning to where you stand.

"There you are. Very good." He steps up to you. Perhaps in his early thirties, the Spell Master of the Pathfinder Society is a vulpine looking man, his features expressive and given to disdain. Highly intelligent eyes flicker over each of you, and it's clear that he's not impressed by what he sees.

"This should prove a safe venture for greenhorns such as yourself. The Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment has reportedly been abandoned for generations, lost within the Tapestry and forgotten by the Tianjing. The scope of the demiplane contained within the Tapestry is vast..."

At this he turns to consider the object itself, then shakes his head in wonder. "But we ask only that you explore and report on the Temple, to which I will be sending you.

"The aasimar nation of Tianjing contains a handful of temples to Korada, Empyreal Lord of forgiveness and foresight. The Pathfinder Society is interested in exploring these holy sites, but the aasimar disciples in Tianjing are reluctant to grant the Pathfinder Society full access to their faith’s secrets. Fortunately, the custodian council of Tianjing gifted one such temple to Hao Jin centuries ago. This temple — the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment — now sits vacant within the museum demi-plane of the Hao Jin Tapestry. We need well-trained explorers to survey the isolated and abandoned site.

"Now. Remember your goals: We need a complete report on the temple with a focus on four key locations.

"First, locate the temple’s meditation room, find evidence of any meditative techniques described there, and record any effects of performing those techniques. Second, prepare a comprehensive catalog of all works in the temple library. Third, find the temple gardens and draft a detailed plan of the garden’s layout. Finally, enter the temple’s crypt and take rubbings of the carvings on each sarcophagus."

He speaks slowly, as if you were slow and liable to forget his first word before he uttered his last. "Is that clear? And please, please try not to wreck the place, or ascribe to futile bids of immortality by scrawling your names across the walls. This is a holy site, and we plan to investigate it at length. If the next group that enters reports that you treated the Temple with callous disregard, we shall know exactly whom to blame."

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

Fahim nods slowly as Zey provides the instructions on what items to collect on behalf of the Pathfinder Society, committing it to memory.

An easy enough task, although I suspect he knows more than he is telling us. Who knows what creatures prowl this extra-dimensional temple, waiting for their next meal to be delivered via magic tapestry into their waiting maws.

"Your will is as clear as the crystalline pools of the Satrap's ever-flourishing atrium. If I might observe, Spell Master Zey, it seems that some, and possibly much, is known about the rooms of the Temple, if not their exact layout or location. If it pleases your arcane eminence, could what is known about the many rooms of the Temple be shared with 'greenhorns' such as us? There is no doubt the efficiency and alacrity of our mission will be increased with such knowledge. As they say, 'knowing what a Djinn plans is worth a thousand swords.'"

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2 to gauge if Zey is willing to tolerate any further questions about the mission.

Blast. This bureaucrat is harder to read than the hundred faced demons of the Ebon Stone Wastes. I hope I do not anger him, as I'm sure he has information we need. Still, fabled Abdula would not have gotten the Ruby of Eternal Brilliance without reaching into the fire vipers' nest first.

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus takes a single step forward, nods to Fahim in agreement, then addresses the Spell Master directly.

"Agreed. Any additional information would be of value. It was not mentioned earlier, but you seem to have alluded to it just now, Master Zey. The temple is not isolated, so any persons... or creatures, living on this demi-plane could have access to the Temple grounds? Perhaps we can be privy to what other ruins exist on the demi-plane, or if it truly is as vast as you say, then at least may we know of sites which lie adjacent to the Temple? So as to best prepare ourselves of possible dangers, that is."

If any such places are revealed, Honus tries to recall any knowledge regarding the site(s), and if he possibly has any family that may have been lost there.

History: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
History: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
History: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Following Zey's response, Honus will resume his previous post, somewhere mid-group, to allow someone else to step forward. As he does, he looks over his shoulder at his companions and catches sight of Alahazra's smooth, rich skin, and quickly focuses upon the floor at his feet.

Stay focused. She wouldn't be interested in someone like me, anyway. She probably wouldn't even think to _consider_ being interested. Did Zey just say something? Gah! Stay focused!


[Alahazra post]

When Honus blurts out his agreement in the hall, Alahazra turns her milky white eyes upon him as if seeing him for the first time. She simply watches as he then mutters to himself and turns to stride ahead of the group into the Tapestry Hall. Her reaction? A slight raising of a finely arched brow as if in mild surprise. Otherwise her face remains composed, and she follows the tall warrior into the chamber in silence.

Standing at the back of the group, staff planted firmly and with the other hand on her hip, she listens with fierce intensity as Zey explains the nature of their mission. Anybody watching her might catch a look of fleeting calculation pass over her features, but she otherwise remains silent as first Fahim and then Honus ask their questions. Honus' glance? It seems to go by unnoticed. But with those ivory eyes, it's hard to tell.

[/Alahazra post]


"The demi-plane," says Zey loudly, as if quelling a surge of voices rather than two simple questions, "Is isolated. I would explain the nature of the tapestry, and how it contains numerous pocket realms within its interstices, but to be honest, I don't have the time, you wouldn't understand, and such an explanation would not benefit your exploration in any material way."

There's a brief pause as he looks each of you quickly in the face, a one eyebrow raised in question as if daring disagreement, but he continues just before anybody can respond. "The demi-plane to which I shall be sending you is void of all other buildings and ruins. It stands a lone, an imposing singularity, though..." He hesitates, glaring at Honus, as if loath to concede any point. "Though it is feasible that planar travelers, whether lost or itinerant, could have stumbled across it over the years. Hence the need for your swords and cantrips and..." He pauses as he examines Fahim's equipment. "Explosives. Which you will be using most judiciously, if at all, within the confines of the temple, hmm?

"Now. As for a more detailed explanation of the layout. As I stated, we have been barred direct access to such temples in the past. The only reports we have been able to gather have come by way of second hand accounts and traveler's journals. From these we have inferred the rooms from which we desire that you collect information. As for specific layouts, or other rooms? We can extrapolate from what all temples and monasteries contain, but have no direct evidence. I'm afraid you will have to proceed with caution."

His smile is anything but warming.

"Any other questions?"

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion continues to remain silent and complacent, with a calm and inscrutable smile plastered across his countenance, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Having already had a run in with Zey, and not expecting anything fruitful to be gained by further interaction, he merely waits for the others to become as frustrated and irritated with Spell Master as he is.

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Nevarion seems to have the right of it.

Sometime in the last hour, Honus found time to dawn his armor, a chain shirt of simple weave, still partially powdered with steel welding residue. Hopefully the blacksmith gave more diligence in the construction of his recent wares than he did in cleaning it to sell. All mysteries are revealed in time, they say, but this young swordsman will do his best to delay that inevitable revelation.

Honus releases a long and audible breath, allowing his eyes a brief reprieve from the bright light of the hall. He shifts his left hand from resting lazily upon the butt of longsword's hilt to a firm grip upon the throat of its sheath. Stretching and clenching the fingers of his sword hand, he whispers a short prayer. While primarily impassive, his expression has seemed limited to a range of subtle friendliness to awkward embarrassment. Now, showing only determination, he not only steps forward, but positions himself both front and center with full focus on the Tapestry ahead.

As if speaking to the Tapestry rather than to the Spell Master, he states, "We're ready."


Aram Zey opens his mouth as if to mock the young Pathfinder, yet something in Honus' demeanor - perhaps the sincerity of his determination, or his forthright and honest expression - stills the words before they pass his lips.

Instead, the Spell Master smooths his black hair back, and steps up to the Tapestry itself. He searches the faded patterns until he locates three interlocking circles, upon which he turns to Honus and bids him approach.

"It seems you are intent on going first. Very well. The magic that will send you to the demi-plane will leave a planar eddy in its wake. This will manifest on the demi-plane as a floating sphere of energy. To return, simply walk into the sphere. Understood?"

Zey waits for Honus to nod before continuing. "Each of you will leave your own sphere behind. You will not be able to see each other's spheres, nor interact with them. They will persist for as long as you remain in the plane. Should you return to your point of origin, however, and find your sphere gone - well. You will be stranded, and need to find another means home."

Zey pauses and looks up the muddy expanse of the Tapestry. "That should only happen in the case of an extreme crisis, such as the destruction of the Tapestry, or some potent magic meddling with the planar eddy from within the demi-plane. I do not foresee that happening."

He looks once more to Honus. "Now. If you are ready. Touch these three interlocking circles. I will cast the spell, and you will find yourself outside the Temple."

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion appears to passively await his turn to touch the portal key, as he subtly maneuvers to be the second one through unless someone objects or takes overt action to jockey for position.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (6) + 9 = 15 to move himself into position without looking like he's actively trying to do so.

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus reaches forth, but his determination chokes as uncertainly fuels his imagination and fears. His hand floats just above the fabric's surface as if the Tapestry was protected by a cushion of air. The hesitation is fleeting, but the tension surrounding him causes the moment to grind. Finally, his fingertips brush softly against the fibers as he presses his palm flat upon the faded symbols, completing the connection.

But nothing happens.

With his hand still locked against the Tapestry, Nothing is happening? Did I do it wrong? Honus begins to panic and sweat.

And the Spell Master begins his incantation...


Aram Zey speaks but one word of power. It resounds Honus' mind like massive chime struck by a hammer, crystalline and pure. The world around him shimmers, distorts - and is gone.

There is a single moment of complete disorientation as all is void and movement and chaos -

And then Honus finds himself standing on a gravel path, his hand still outstretched before him where he had been touching the Tapestry. Around him and extending as far as the eye can see rises a temperate forest, golden sunshine pouring from an indeterminate source, for no sun hangs in the azure sky above. There is no wind, nor is there any birdsong or scurrying of woodland animals - the forest, for all its serene beauty, is still.

The path at Honus' feet leads up a gentle hill to a white stone building. The single story temple is wide and without edges; the corners are rounded, and there are no windows. Flecks of what might be gold in the white marble walls sparkle in the pervasive sunlight, and the architecture is subtly pleasing to the eye.

At the hill's peak, the path leads into a small courtyard enclosed within the structure, and from where Honus stands he can just make out the large wooden double doors at the courtyard's rear.

All is silent. All is still.

Should Honus glance behind him, he sees a shimmering ball of blue energy, which hovers and pulses in the air.

-----------------------------

Back in the Tapestry Hall, Aram Zey says his word of power, and Honus simply flickers and disappears. He turns then to Mexus, who has positioned himself to be next.

"Very well. One down, three to go. Step right up, my Lord. I promise it won't hurt."

As each Pathfinder touches the Tapestry, Zey mutters the same word of power, and they too disappear to manifest on the path by Honus' side.

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Upon reaching the extra-dimensional space, Navarion immediately begins turning in a small circle, carefully looking in each direction, including up and down, to see if anything registers in his mind as wrong, off, or potentially dangerous. While he searches, his brow furrows, which ever so slightly elevates his pearlescent horns on his head, and his tail flicks continuously back and forth behind him as he turns.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21 to find mundane dangers or anomalies, and

Knowledge: Planes: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 to find information or dangers of an extraplanar or extradimensional nature.

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

When it is his turn, Fahim steps up to the tapestry and places his hand on the three interlocking circles, as his companions did before him. A small smile creeps across his face as Zey mutters the incantation.

Imagine that. I am starting my adventure by using a magical rug, just like the fabled Abdula and his flying carpet. The Pathfinder Society will truly be my way to earn glory and fortune. Soon the children will be telling tales of the fabled Fahim. Ha!

As the spell completes and Fahim arrives in the tranquil forest, Fahim’s smile slips in to open mouthed wonder. Fahim can barely gasp his amazement to the others,

“By the ghost of Cerush, I know of no other place such as this. Even the tranquil dens of the Satrap’s Palace do not boast such perfection. This Tian sorceress must have had immense power to create such a place for mere storage. If this is just the entrance, then what wonders must await inside?”

As Fahim finishes his whispered praise he reflects to himself,

But do not the wicked djinn hide great evil behind even greater beauty? I must stay focused, lest I succumb to an unsuspected evil like poor Aakif did when he agreed to one “harmless” kiss from Paimon, the djinn of lustful gales.

Fahim’s countenance shifts again to one of preparation and determination. He reaches into his overladen satchel and, after a few seconds of rummaging, draws out a potion bottle in his left hand. The clear bottle is stoppered with a red wax seal that is etched with arcane markings. Inside the bottle a viscous yellow slime coats its walls as it sloshes around, giving off an altogether unappealing image.

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Once Honus surveys the immediate surroundings and takes awe in the structure ahead, he turns to watch the rest of his band arrive in safety. Fahim's accent carries as he gives praise to the Temple's elegance. Words were never spoken so clearly.

I hear and see perfectly, but there is no noise or movement beyond our circle.

Sadness melts his features.

"It is like walking into a painting. Serene and beautiful, but without life. I have never seen such a sad place."

He drags himself a few paces toward the temple, then just stares at it's blank walls.


[Alahazra post]

Alahazra blinks her white eyes with surprise as she appears last beside Fahim, and immediately grips her staff with both hands and holds it diagonally before her as if prepared for violence. When none manifests, she straightens out of her crouch and gazes about the forest, until at last she stares in the direction the path takes before you all.

"The path. Can you see where it leads? Is the temple at its end?" Her voice is little more than a husky whisper, and she addresses the group in general.

[/Alahazra post]

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

“Yes, Prophet, the path leads into a small courtyard enclosed within the Temple. There are large wooden double doors at the end of the courtyard. That is the only entrance I can see, and where it looks like we are expected to go.”

Fahim waddles up to Honus, who has already taken tentative steps toward the Temple. As he walks, in this forest of serenity, Honus can finally hear and recognize the soft clink of a chainshirt under Fahim’s kaftan. Fahim smiles at Honus as he draws near. In the hushed voiced demanded by such a peaceful place,

“Honus, my brave friend, you were the first to go through the tapestry, and the first to move toward the Temple. Would you not continue in this noble role and lead us into the Temple itself? I will follow close behind to lend you my eyes and aid, assuming they are even needed.”

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Honus looks over to Fahim and recalls his proclamation.

Quote:
"A man is his word and reputation, and I am no woman!"

He has an odd humor, but wit is a prized trait when there's danger about. He's not lacking for courage, but is smart enough, and daresay humble, to let the stronger man lead. I could do without the overt attempts at flattery, but still, maybe I've underestimated the man.

He gives the fellow a single nod of his head.

Retrieving the bulky wooden shield slung behind his shoulder, he lashes it to is left forearm and gives a practice reach across his body for his sword. He checks his travel pack to make sure it's secure, and smooths down his vestments. Seemingly satisfied, he marches forward at a steady pace, slowing scanning his left flank, his right flank, and then left again. Assuming that the bone chilling stillness of the place remains unchanged, he will continue up to the passageway into the courtyard, but not yet cross the threshold.

Perception +0 for the environment.
Perception +0 for the structure.


Honus marches slowly up the hill, the white gravel crunching beneath his boots. His ascent is uninterrupted, the others no doubt following just behind him. The trees on either side of the path reveal no threats, their pale white bark contrasting with the vivid green of their foliage and the emerald grass that grows thickly about their roots.

When Honus crests the final ascent of the path where it levels just shy of the building, he sees fully into the enclosed courtyard. The gravel ends and is replaced within it by fine white sand, with stepping stones of flat tan stones leading one across the sand to the double doors beyond.

Just then, a figure walks backwards and into view within the courtyard. A child of perhaps no more than six years, clad in a simple white robe tied off with a yellow sash, is dragging a rake across the fine white sand of the courtyard and leaving orderly rows behind it. He hums as he steps into view, then catches sight of Honus out of the corner of his eye, and turns, surprised, to stare right at you.

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

Fahim looks as surprised as the halfling is at seeing unexpected people at the Temple. He quickly regains his composure and steps up alongside Honus. In a tone far louder than feels right in such a place of calm reflection, Fahim greets the young man with his ever-ready smile,

“Hello there! You gave us quite a scare. Hopefully, we have not done the same to you. We did not mean to approach so quietly, but the beauty of this place demanded such a delicate approach. We have come to visit the Temple, and had assumed it empty, but that is clearly not the case. But where are my manners, my name is Fahim, and to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

While speaking to the Halfling, Fahim places his potion bottle back into his satchel. With both hands now free, he makes an open handed gesture of welcome and peace to the Halfling.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 to convey a polite and harmless appearance to the Halfling.

Just our luck that there would be an attendant taking care of the Temple. Liberating relics of value will be all that much harder if the owner, or servant, is here. Still, did not fabled Abdula trick the desert lich of the Ash Mounds to give him the lich’s very own phylactery? This Halfling is no lich, and should not nearly be as much of an obstacle to overcome.


The young halfing stands there gaping as if he's not understood a word Fahim spoke. His eyes are nut brown with golden flecks, and he's a handsome youth, his mop of unruly hair notwithstanding.

His eyes flicker past the men of the group to latch on to Alahazra, from whom he immediately looks away as if his eyes were scalded, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. He blinks rapidly, frowns briefly at Mexus, stares openly at Honus' armor and blade, before returning his attention to Fahim.

Only then does he seem to relax. "Me? Give you a scare?" He smiles uncertainly, amused by the idea. "I'm sorry if I did. Wasn't my attention, no it weren't, but I near jumped out of my skin seeing you four standing there all of a sudden! It's been almost twelve years since the last pilgrim arrived to visit the Temple, so long ago I can barely remember it."

He hesitates, then carefully lowers his rake to the ground and places one fist within the other and bows with sudden ceremony. "Be welcome to the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment, Fahim - and your friends too, of course. My name is Pualo."

He straightens and drops his hands, his eyes alive with friendly curiosity. "Are you followers of Korada too? Have you come to live at the temple? It would be wonderful to have new people to talk to." Again his eyes flicker to Alahazra, and again he looks rapidly away with a blush.

Sovereign Court

Male Tiefling Wizard / 1

Navarion eyes the Halfling carefully, and his his eyes begin to take in the creature's nuances as he awaits for a response.

Is this actually one of the shire-folk, or is this merely a cleverly designed trap to knock us off our guard? Or did the Zey double-book the job, assuming that we can't handle this rather simple task? Or was the halfling already here when the tapestry was acquired? If so, does that mean that the Pathfinder Society owns this hobbit? Then we, as duly appointed members of the Society ... this is going to end badly. I think I remember seeing a recipe for halfling stew in that tome of lower plannar cuisine ...

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15 to determine if the Halfling is real and of any apparent threat.

The Exchange

Male Human Alchemist 1 | HP: 10/10 | AC: 17 (15 Tch, 12 Fl) | CMD: 14 | Fort: 3 Ref: 7 Will: 1 | Active conditions: Mutagen; No Armor

Fahim nods encouragingly as Pualo speaks, trying to set him at ease by being an attentive listener. When he asks questions, Fahim is prompt to respond and show interest in what he is saying.

“We are not followers of Korada my friend, but we have come to visit his Temple. We would be happy to talk to you while we walk around and take in the beauty and splendor of this sanctuary. And who knows, maybe after we have seen all that the Temple has to offer, some of us may be tempted to stay.”

With that comment Fahim subtly winks at Puala and shifts his eyes in Alahazra’s direction, while still looking directly ahead at Puala so that Alahazra does not see what he did.

“But here I go again, talking up one of the seven great storms. Allow me to introduce my friends. This brave soul is Honus, our protector and trailblazer. Next to him is Mexus, who may look disconcerting but is quite genial. And behind them both, Alahazra, prophet of the burning sands and the only one of our group who looks like she belongs in this realm of serene beauty.”

Fahim pauses at each member of the group as he introduces them to allow them to add to their introduction as they wish.

Please add what each PC/NPC does, even if it’s just a simple nod. Fahim will pick back up once everyone gets their introduction post in.

Sovereign Court

Tiefling, Wizard (Conjurer) 1 | HP: 7/7 | AC: 12 (16 with Armor Cast) (12 (16) Tch, 10 (14) Fl) | CMD: 12 (16) | F: 1, R: 2, W: 3 | Init: +2 | Perc: +1, SM: +2 | Active conditions: Generally a bad, bad man

Navarion decides that the halfling is both real and a potential asset, though likely an annoying one at that. To speed the cabal towards reaching their goal, Navarion adopts a well-practiced smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes, and he steps forward to address the halfling with his usual careful, respectful, and elevated diction in an attempt to convey a sense of true concern for Pualo and what Navarion assumes is his unfortunate ignorance regarding his situation, "Sir Paulo, I am Lord Mexus Navarion," here Mexus emphasizes the word "lord," as Fahim seemed to forget it, "and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. This temple along with the extra-dimensional space that contains it, has been lawfully acquired by a Society of which we are members. It is our intention to respectfully survey the Temple of Empyreal Enlightenment on behalf of our Society and to carefully catalog its contents for study and reference so that the teachings of Korada, Empyreal Lord of forgiveness and foresight, can be contemplated and understood by those of us who choose to do so. We would greatly appreciate any assistance that you would be willing to provide us towards completing that end. And when we have completed that task, we would be more than happy to aid you in leaving this extra-dimensional space, should you so wish to do so. If not, I see no reason that you should not be left to your own diversions here in the temple. Regardless, we wish to emphasize that we have no desire whatsoever to negatively impact your experience here, nor do we wish to do anything in this temple that would profane it or remotely offend Korada or his followers."

Mexus takes a brief moment to reflect on his statements, "OK, I think I covered it all. I made sure that he'll be comfortable with the fact that we acquired this stolen temple lawfully, that we're here to rummage and ransack the place, to pick it over for any bit of treasure that we can find, and that if he helps us do that, then we'll be nice enough to free him from this extra-dimensional prison ...

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16 to make a good impression on Paulo and convince him that it's in his best interests and the best interests of the temple to help the party, even if it really may not be ...


[Alahazra post]

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19 on Mexus' explanations to the halfling.

The statuesque beauty remains quiet at the back of the group, her head canted to one side as she listens to Mexus, her brow marred slightly by a frown. She holds her peace, however, simply nodding her head with its impressive headpiece when she is introduced. For now, it would seem that she is content to let the others converse with the halfling.

[/Alahazra post]

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

"What's that symbol there, pinned on your sash? Is that a symbol of Korada?"

Sense Motive +0 to gauge the halfling's reaction and response.

Honus seems to forget his manners. If he has heard the kind words delivered by Fahim, or Lord Navarion's forthright notice of the group's intent, he gives no sign. The matching symbol of the three overlapping circles from the Tapestry has given him pause of all else. His tone is not accusatory, nor is he attempting to intimidate Paulo. Honus is simply overwhelmed by curiosity.

A reminder that he did prepare his shield, though never drew his blade.

Then, as if shaken from sleep, an epiphany strikes him.

The Pathfinder Society hasn't had the Tapestry for twelve years. And before that it had been stashed away in Hao Jin's vault for centuries. Who could have come here? Bewei? No, not twelve years ago. But a descendant perhaps.

"And you said a pilgrim came here some years back? Ah... my apologies. I have forgotten my manners. As my friend said, I am Honus. Honus Gisborne."

With a hand to his chest, he gives the slightest of bows and then continues. Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

"We have, in fact, come here in search of knowledge and enlightenment. With your permission, we would like to enter the Temple and continue to speak inside. You would like to continue speaking with us, yes?"


Pulao bends slowly to pick up his sand-rake as Fahim speaks, his eyes never leaving Fahim's face as if he's loath to miss even a single word. When Fahim reveals that they are not actually worshippers of Korada, his eyes go wide as if with a flash of disappointment, but that's ameliorated by Fahim's intimation that perhaps - there's a very slight chance - they will stay once they see what the Temple has to offer.

"Oh, yes - I'm sure you will. I've not traveled, but this is a good life. What is a life but a means toward an end, that end being the greatest good? Here we pray to Korada all the time, and that's the best anybody can do with a life."

There's something stilted in his delivery, certain hesitations and then rushed phrases, as if he's recalling somebody else's words and repeating them by rote.

Fahim then turns to introduce his friends, and Pulao turns to each as they're mentioned, setting the rake down quickly once more to slip one fist inside the other hand and give each a quick bow.

Sense Motive on Mexus: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15

When Mexus speaks, Pulao's eyes immediately go wide at being called 'sir'. He opens his mouth to protest, but then stills as Mexus continues. He blinks, his brow furrowing when Mexus says 'extra dimensional space', but focuses more fiercely as he tries to follow the smooth stream of words. Mexus seems to lose him from 'lawfully acquired', to 'carefully catalog', but Pulao latches on and nods vigorously when he gets to the teachings of Korada, and how they should be contemplated and understood.

Unfortunately, he seems to once more have trouble following Mexus' eloquence as he finishes his speech, his eyebrows going up and up, until by the very end the young halfling is just blinking and watching Mexus with a blank face.

"Oh." It's his first comment when he realizes Mexus is done. "Oh, thank you. Thank you very much. And yes, I - you are more than welcome to contemplate Lord Korada here. And to see the Temple! I will ask for permission to show you around. But -" It's clear he's trying to recall Mexus' exact words. "But I think you had better seek an audience with his holiness Dakang." He nods, once, firmly. "He's our leader here at the temple, an examplar of Korada, holy beyond holy and blessed with immortality! He can tell you more about... extra dimenions... and diversions? Here at the Temple."

As flustered as Pulao might look, it's clear he doesn't want to offend Mexus, and he gazes at him with the respect a young pupil might at a professor whose mind clearly dwells in realms of knowledge beyond his ken.

When Alahazra nods her head, Pulao bows even more deeply, the tips of his ears burning red where they poke through his hair. "Lord Korada welcomes you," he says, straightening. A moment of panic as he simply holds Alahazra's gaze, then he blurts out, "A lot!"

Pulao clearly than wishes the ground would open up and swallow him as he turns gratefully to Honus.

"This symbol?" Pulau looks down at his sash, lifting the delicate three interlinked circles. "Oh, that's the sacred Spiral of Korada. They represent reflection on the past, focus on the present, and contemplation of the future. The circles do, I mean."

Honus asks his next question, and Pulau doesn't seem phased. "Gastem? Yes, he arrived when I was just seven years old. He's a holy pilgrim. Very holy! He's stayed with us since. He brought the first meat - and the only meat - I have ever eaten." Pulau's mouth clearly fills with saliva, because he swallows quickly. "'Beef jerky', he called it. It comes from cows, but it's called beef, not cow jerky. And so good! I made my piece last a month. I still remember it. Do you have any?"

Then, like Honus, he seems to recollect his manners. "And welcome!" He smiles at everybody, especially Fahim. "This is wonderful! I can't wait to show you around and introduce you to everybody. You have to stay for Dakang's sermon this afternoon, of course, and dinner, and - well - you should just stay as long as you like!" His smile becomes a beam. "Come! I'll show you inside."

He turns and walks along the tan stones set in the sand, hurrying toward the double doors.

Sovereign Court

Tiefling, Wizard (Conjurer) 1 | HP: 7/7 | AC: 12 (16 with Armor Cast) (12 (16) Tch, 10 (14) Fl) | CMD: 12 (16) | F: 1, R: 2, W: 3 | Init: +2 | Perc: +1, SM: +2 | Active conditions: Generally a bad, bad man

As the group follows behind Pulau, Navarion's tail silently creeps under the flap on his pack and snakes into the main compartment. It twitches about as it seems to slither further and further into his pack's depths, apparently navigating the tight confined space. And then, like some giant snake that has found its prey, the tail quickly retreats from the pack with its end tightly entwining what appears to be several small strips of dried spiced meat, though what sort of creature the meat was taken from is anyone's guess. The tail then deftly deposits the meat into Navarion's proffered palm, and the next time that Pulau looks back in his direction, Navarion rips into the chunk of the dried flesh with his teeth in a slightly exaggerated predatory motion that's followed with a toothy grin, which could only serve to emphasize how much he is enjoying the taste of this jerky.

Silver Crusade

Human Fighter (Tactician) 1 | HP: 10/11 | AC: 18 (12 T, 16 F), CMD: 16 | F: 3, R: 2, W: 0 | Percep +0 | Conditions: none | Tall and strong, sober-faced, white and gold linens, chain shirt, longsword, heavy wooden shield

Following behind the halfling into the courtyard, Honus still maintains that same steady pace, keeping an eye out from side to side.

I'm not sure if I should be excited or disappointed that there is a whole group of people here. In fact, I don't even know if I should feel safer or be more wary because of it. Caution is key I suppose.

"Hmph."

Disappointed and wary it is...

Knowledge, Engineering for the architecture of the building, including rounded corners and a lack of windows: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26


Pulao skips lightly over the tan stones to the great double doors, which he pushes open with familiar ease and then slips inside. Within the double doors is a large room, spacious and devoid of furniture, the white marble floor inlaid with the three circles of the holy symbol of Korada and a spiral that curls about then before connecting with the circle in the center. The symbol on the floor is scuffed by what must be generations of foot traffic, yet still retains some sense of potency and power.

Pulao doesn't hesitate, but simply hurries across the symbol to a door on the far side of this broad entry all, turning only once to beckon you all to follow. As he does so, he catches sight of the jerky Mexus is chewing on, and his eyes go wide. He almost misses his step, but only at the last minute do his manners kick in and he turns, clearly swallowing hard, and pushes open the far door to disappear within.

This entry hall has another door to the left, and two archways that face each other on the far right, as if a corridor ran along the far right room, leading away in both directions.

The air within the temple is cool and refreshing, and the walls, ceiling, and floor composed of the same smooth marble.

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