Jayse, still doing a visual sweep of the room, looks back down at the dragon, "Jofram, how long do you think it'd take to skin her? Surely theres some cash to be made carting out an umbral dragon's hide. Not to mention selling some teeth or claws as souvenirs. Who brought a loot cart?"
Maybe an hour or so. I was thinking that her head could fit in that Bag of Holding we picked up. Maybe another 200 pounds of dragonskin. Couldn't hold much more, I think.
Walking over to the damnable wyrm's-bane arrow, Jofram snatches it up and fits it into his quiver.
Ushari looks over the massive pile of treasure. "Orin, it looks like we are gonna need a bigger boat."
Jayse spies the shell, not sure if he should touch it or not. "So... that it?"
Ushari looks at the shell. It looks like what we came here to find, Jayse. I have NO idea if touching it is safe or not, but looks like we have no choice."
After 10 minutes of analysis and debate, the team determines what each item is/does and or is worth...
~ Dragon TREASURE ~
3000 PP
5500 GP
10,000 SP
50,000 CP
5 Dark Gems
-> 1000 GP
-> 1000 GP
-> 3000 GP
-> 2500 GP
-> 500 GP
~ Magic Items ~
Gloves of Arrow Snaring
Scroll 11th CL (Divine) 6th spell - Heal
Ioun Stone - Pearly White Spindle
Staff of Souls
Manual of Quickness in Action +2
Wand 10th CL 4th Spell - Cure Critical Wounds
+3 Chainmail (Energy Resistance 10 v Electricity)
Ring of Major Energy Resistance: 20 v Cold
Ring of Protection +3
Amphora with Salve of Slipperiness (15 doses)
Naladoria's Shell
~ Non-Magical Items ~
Shiny Metal Colander - for washing veggies :)
While the others eye the pile of loot, the gnome starts working on the three rings in the door.
Despite his weakened state, Jofram sets about decapitating and skinning the dragon. Slicing off a generous chunk of liver, he tosses it to Vaelos, who devours it greedily.
"Who brought a loot cart?"Ushari shrugs, a half smile on her face. "Maybe Orin has one up his sleeve."
"This looks remarkably similar to the Front Door we saw from the boat... except the words are less of a jumble. It looks like they've been mostly decoded. It shouldn't take much to finish the puzzle and get it open."]"Sure thing. I wonder where these doors lead to though."
It takes Straehan a few minutes but he pieces together the phrases that meet, circle, join, and cross along the three rings. The gnome considers the message when complete.
Abjure the promise of power at the compromise of your soul, for this is a bargain that must needs end in darkness. The path of the wise and great is rarely straight and never easy. Though born of shadow and weavers of it - be not of shadow. Light your path, even in deepest darkness.
With a click! the door unlocks. Straehan wedges it closed for the moment.
As the others gather the loot for transport out of the room, Ushari looks over the shell unwilling to touch it. She asks nervously, "Naladoria said we ned to take the shell to the ocean, dip it in there and pour the water onto land. I think it would be best to retrace our steps and exit the ruin that way. The ocean is right there, and I am sure Isolde is concerned about us."
The gnome puts his hand on the door, like a child who is about to do something he shouldn't. "What? You don't want to know what's behind the door? Not even a peek? What could possibly go wrong?" He teases the blonde, enjoying her nervousness.
I still have one summoning scroll remaining. Shall we send a canary down the mineshaft?
Ushari smirks at the gnome. "Are you SURE you don't have any feline blood in you? As for what is beyond the door? Who knows...Orin's plan seems a good one."
As you consider your choices, you look on the shell. It appears to be a whorled, plate-sized shell - approximately a foot in diameter - and made of a strange orange metal. The whole thing appears solid - the shell's large opening is filled with the metal. Only a bit of the scalloped edge, and the whorls aren't filled. It looks like a real, and rather large, shell that was turned metallic. Judging from the size, it must be weighty.
After looking over the shell (again without touching it), Ushari shrugs. "I have no idea if my divine connection will help me...or hurt me here." She glances at the others. "Plus, this thing looks very HEAVY!"
Strae glances at the shell. "Well it would sort of defeat Naladoria's purpose if this thing killed us before we could use it, so..." With a fractional anticipatory wince, he lays an experimental hand on the shell - nothing happens. "Feels warm... weird." He pushes it around a bit. It is indeed heavy, about 50 pounds. "Currently, I'm in no shape to carry this thing."
Examining the door near Straehan, Jofram nods. "Could be worth a quick peek. Does anyone have a torch?"
"Sure, I have one..." Ushari laughs as she casts a simple spell
You light up a stick and Orin readies his scroll in case flying monkeys are needed. Straehan unblocks the door and you crack it open slightly... and are blinded by the daylight shining through.
You shade your eyes a moment to let them adjust. You are staring across a long expanse of lake, viewing a familiar beach set next to a familiar bluff, with a familiar circle of oak trees atop it. In short, you are staring out the massive southern door of the Cube and your boat should be about 50' away around the corner of the building... or you could reach it by walking back through the complex - roughly a distance of half a mile with a 300' change in elevation.
Ushari squints her eyes from the glare of the sun, never more happy than to see sunlight at this moment in her life. Except for the moment when she FIRST woke up in the Isles. She grins lightly, "I know you ALL must be dying to check out the rest of this ruin, but as for me...." She points off to the beach. "I need to get some rays!"
She starts to head off to the rowboat, then pauses. "I think we should get this shell back to the beach as quickly as possible. No telling if anyone else followed us here. Jofram, do you think we can fill the shell with seawater now?"
Agreed. We got what we came for. Let's check in with Isolde and then see if the sea water will work.
Jayse takes a moment to bask in the blinding sun, letting the warmth creep back into his Shaudran-chilled body. He nods at the idea of heading back to the beach with Isolde and the shell in the boat.
Jayse looks back and considers the shell. "We really don't know a thing about what that is or what it does, do we? Do we even know what kind of magic is in it? Can anyone tell? I just hate not knowing what we're dealing with… or potentially activating on the beach."
"Well, I guess we'll find out once we get back to the camp. Orin, do you still have that flask of seawater?"
Strae casts Fly on himself and enjoys the sunlight outside the door for a minute while retrieving the boat. Soon you are all aboard the dinghy with the Shell, magic items, and your two bags of holding stuffed with coins, goods, and dragon-hide chunks.
Appreciating the sunlight and the rocking boat as you head towards shore, Straehan considers the Monk's questions. "Well, it's an artifact, we know that. Given the level of power that represents, knowing the exact school or schools of Magic at work in it will be of dubious help, but I'll give it a try..."
The gnome weaves a few spells and stares at the Shell for a long time. Minutes pass and his gaze never wavers as the boat rows towards shore. As you grind up on the strand, the Sorcerer blinks and rubs the bridge of his nose, suffering from a massive headache.
"OK, there are two schools of magic present - Conjuration and Transmutation. I was only just able to determine that. Whoever created this thing was ridiculously skilled."
As the boat grinds to a halt on the sand, Jayse hops out. He moves to the bow, waiting until the others have stepped out before dragging it a few yards up out of the water.
He regards the headachy gnome, "Thanks for doing that. But what does that mean? I have a general idea of what Necromancy is, so I'm glad it's not that. But what types of effects could we be looking at with Conjuration and Transmutation?"
As he waits, he begins once again to catalog their mountain of loot in the different magical containers.
Ushari thinks for a moment. "I suspect the Conjuration will summon forth Naladoria's....spirit, for want of a better term. The transmutation will allow her to change her form in some way. That is MY guess anyway." She gazes at the shell lost in thought. "Since we are close to summoning a GOD here, there is a very good chance this whole island will be affected by this!"
"Ushari may be right. It fits the data. The power level of the... device would certainly be commensurate with bringing a very potent being to this dimension. I can't speculate if it will affect the whole island."
Isolde comes down to the beach to greet you - both relieved and concerned. She can see the fatigue and the weakness etched on your faces from the loss of vitality and strength. "You have suffered much, I see. Were you successful?"
Ushari smiles wanly, "We are alive, Isolde. That counts as a success in my book...and yes we did find what we were looking for." She looks over her own drawn limbs and the various scars left in the earlier battles. "We did suffer greatly but my healing powers should fix them, given time that is."
Isolde nods. "Very well. I would like to hear the story when your task is finished here." The Oracle limps down the beach, scouring the shoreline for shells of interest, leaving you to your business.
Jayse -- exhausted from the day -- gives Isolde a warm smile and nod. "It's the least we can do after the help you gave us." As she walks away, he turns back to the group, seeming to dig deep for enough energy and will power to face whatever the shell would bring.
Finally he shrugs, "I guess we do it, then. Time to toss the dice."
Ushari takes the shell down to the water's edge and dips it into the sea. As the water touches the shell, the strange metal filling the hollow of the shell retreats before the water. The sea water rushes in filling the shell. The Cleric lugs the sloshing shell back up the shore a ways. She up-ends the shell and the water sloshes out... but it never hits the beach. As it pours out it slowly transforms into mist. Only the mist touches the shore and snakes out like tentacles in all directions. A tendril of mist explores the cleric's leg. It is distracting enough that Ushari drops the shell and steps away. The water continues to gush from the shell - far more than the water that filled it, and the mist expands and coalesces until it becomes Naladoria. She is quite solid from the waist up. Below that, her form diffuses into a swirling skirt of fog. She is all smiles.
Naladoria picks up the shell triumphantly, looking at it like it is a long lost friend, but she addresses the heroes. "You've done very, VERY well. I feared this day would never come. So, thank you and know that you shall be rewarded for your many deeds." She looks to Orin, "Even you have earned our thanks."
She walks to the lake's edge, looks over the water and runs a hand over the strange brassy shell. It moves beneath her touch. She unwinds a bit of the narrow end and forms a delicate mouthpiece - like a conch. You think for a moment of Reaver Coe who told you that Naladoria was thought to be the Mother of Sirens. You wonder if, over the millennia, Siren had once been ‘siren’, as if to represent a herald.
You can only ponder this for a moment as Naladoria puts the conch-like shell to her lips and blows a single long, piercing note. The waters of the lake still and turn smooth as glass, and you know this is true of waters across the world of Miir. Everywhere the oceans still and turn flat.
Naladoria takes another breath and blows a louder note - swaying slightly as she is drained of vitality to sound the shell.
The glass-like water goes dark, no longer reflecting the true sky but rather it reveals a black sky, devoid of stars or light - a vast, deep void. The blast of sound knocks you all back. Into your minds rush your restored pasts - every memory, foul or fair. Every evil you have ever done. And more than that, you all recall when you vanished from your old lives. Despair’s Daughter leaps to her death from the Spires of Crux and falls into a fog bank, never hitting the ground. Blackstone, chased by a score of his brother assassins, tries to lose his pursuers in a sudden fog. Straehan stumbles out of a tavern looking for a hiding place, as the Inquisitor’s poison does its work, and collapses into a freak mist. Jofram chases down his patron for the money he’s owed, whipping his horse into a lather as he stalks the fleeing man. A stray mist floats across the field and catches the ranger...
The only hole left in your minds is what happened from the moment you entered the fog to when you awoke in the ocean so many long months ago. Except for Jofram who pieces together another fragment...
Jofram, along with several other who appear as little more than silhouettes floating nearby, is carried by a controlled current through the alien, inhuman, architecture of the glowing undersea city. The huge, strange, tentacled Aboleth are all around him. They don't know he understands Aklo so he catches bits of conversation not meant for his ears. He learns of an old debt. Once this debt was called for repayment, the ancient and arrogant Aboleth were compelled to snatch a group of travelers from the surface and strip their memories. Having enslaved most terrestrial species at one point or another, the Aboleth found this an easy task. But something in Jofram's make-up proved more difficult. While trying to look vacant-headed for his captors, he considers that his mixed heritage may be a blessing here. Perhaps having a mind organized a bit like a human's and a bit like an elf's is too difficult for them to handle? It isn't clear if the Aboleth realise that he retains more of his memories and more of his will than the others. He isn't the blank slate they think he is. He listens intently as the Aboleth growl about the Debt, speaking with a combination of irritation and hope. They are taking their captives to the Debtkeeper now for inspection.
The current moves faster now, sweeping Jofram and his fellow prisoners through the bizarre alien city-scape of fragile spires and cycloptic, organic tunnels. It is so foreign, the sight of it causes Jofram's mind to revolt. They approach a vast audience chamber. Ahead, the Debtkeeper awaits. Jofram can only see it vaguely, the water and pressure obscuring his vision. The angular yet flowing figure is big, far larger than the Aboleth. Jofram can almost make out the features... He sees a flowing misty body that reminds him vaguely of tentacles. Above it the body solidifies and takes on a human-like angularity. And then there is the face - it is Naladoria. She looks the heroes over then orders the Aboleth imperiously, "They must remember NOTHING of their lives until the moment is right, otherwise everything may be ruined. And you know the price of failure in this. Would you wait more thousands of years to reclaim your place?" She looks over the blank faces one by one, a smile crossing her lips. They are fresh slates.
Before another heartbeat passes, Naladoria - exiled Goddess and herald of a defeated pantheon - takes another breath and blows a final earth-shattering blast that explodes the conch in her hands. She staggers at the amount of her divine life-force drained to open the Door.
Deep within the void reflected in the glass-like water, a light forms. Figures swim towards the surface glowing with a nacreous light. Up the figures come, from the void’s black depths, drawn by the heralds’ call.
One by one they explode from the void, ghost-like grey manifestations. They rise briefly into the skies of Miir and grow more diffuse until they vanish entirely - once more fully in the world. These are Gods that have never known the shape of men. Some are moist or tentacled or fish-eyed or gelatinous. They are creatures of the depths - Gods of no earth-walking species. Seven of them come. Seven of the Fallen, the Lost Gods, the Old Ones. Seven of the Ocean Lords that ruled before Miir had a continent and who fell to the upstart Shaudran and their new Gods so very long ago.
In a moment, it is done. Naladoria drops the fragments of the shell, dusts her hands, and turns to your group, looking worn but satisfied. "My cousins are well-pleased with your work. They wish to reward you and offer you greater rewards still for your continued service..." Her words falter as she sees the figure hobbling slowly up the beach towards your group - the woodsy Oracle Isolde. Naladoria’s frown passes quickly and she says pleasantly. "You’re too late."
With her characteristic limp, Isolde approaches, keeping a good distance between herself and everyone else. "My purpose isn't to stop you." She bows her head and begins mumbling a prayer.
Naladoria watches the prayer with amusement and a hint of scorn, "It's definitely too late for that."
Undeterred, Isolde completes her prayer. Shafts of thin light come down and touch each of the heroes as well as Isolde herself. She looks to you all, "Know the truth of what is said here and the full decision you make. The world may turn upon it."
Orin, unsure how to address a deity, bows deeply and says: It was my pleasure. He takes special care to not look her directly in the eye.
Naladoria dismisses the Oracle's actions with a wave. "Are you ready to hear what we have to offer?"
Orin, unsure how to address a deity, bows deeply and says: It was my pleasure. He takes special care to not look her directly in the eye.
Jayse scowls, his general discomfort at this arrangement coming to the fore, "I have the distinct feeling tht there's no way we could be ready for what you have to offer."
Straehan is very quiet and very still, nodding almost imperceptibly in agreement with Jayse's statement.