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Skyfall - Colonies of the Shining Sea

Game Master Corerue

Battle at the lift

Crosses vs


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Cassian

Your knowledge of this unique technology is lacking in the extreme, this clockwork orb is beyond anything you've ever seen. The items that had been smashed and strewn about that deathtrap of a workshop are beyond your ken as well. Despite your vast experience, seeing such items smashed and cruelly bent makes it hard if not impossible to determine their use. The goo on the floor is what you can only guess to be the bloody remnants of the woman who died in that very room. From the images on the recording she had no weapons and stood little chance in such a confined workshop with two of those monstrosities attacking her. Top that with the spilling and mixing of whatever chemicals may have been stored there as well. Its hard to tell what is what...

As you look over the strange orb you notice something eerie about it. As you time the pulses of light you find that the orb is pulsing in a familiar rhythm. Each of the clockwork gears and pendulums move in time as well, first the clockwork turn and then the pendulums swing back and forth the odd rhythm. With each twist of the inner workings and pulse of light you can see the silver liquid sort of move as well yet its unclear in what direction as it appears to swirl about in the tubes. This pattern continues in the same way again and again. Twist of the gear, swing of the pendulum and gentle pulse of light. Twist, swing, pulse, twist, swing, pulse...

Leaving it alone for now you carry your goods back into Mog's workshop and find that she is worse then before, in and out of conciousness every couple of minutes and when you show her the items she answers as best she can.

"The mantle will be useful for you... It sits on your shoulders and a lighter armor can be wo..."

She passes out for a few moments before snapping back up, looking slightly disorientated and having to focus on your face for a moment before she looks at the next item. She touches the Servitor gently and nod. "Monitor. Records and replays images it captures..." Her eyes roll for a moment before she hones in on the last item and for the first time since you met her she looks fully alert and active. She rises to her feet shakily as she looks directly at teh item in your hand. "A Soul Node. Where did you get this!?" She puts a hand to her head, looking like she was suffering from a headache as she staggered to thecenter of the room.

After you explain where you found it and replay the grim recording she shakes her head and staggers into one of her work benches before falling to her knees. Just walking into the work bench leaves it dented badly and when you attempted to help her remain standing you found that she weighed a hell of a lot more then you thought. It was like trying to keep a warjack on its feet!

She thumps the bench with her large metal fist, denting it further, as she shouts something in frustreation and turns to regard you once more. "Wilssean! That item is extremely important, do not let it be damaged and by all means do not remove it from that holder for any long then you need too. If the light fades completely it'll die." She tries to stand and finds she can't and as she opens her mouth to speak to you again she pauses, looking strangely out of sorts just before she collapses against the table, head down and still kneeling against it.

Just then the lights in every room pulse darkly, before returning to a more comfortable setting and not as bright as before. THe strange sounding message plays once more, this one was different and still you couldn't understand what it was saying. {.--. --- .-- . .-. / ..-. .-.. ..- -.-. - ..- .- - .. --- -. / -.. . - . -.-. - . -.. --..-- / . -- . .-. --. . -. -.-. -.-- / .--. --- .-- . .-. / ... ..- .--. .--. .-.. -.-- / ..- -. ... - .- -... .-.. . .-.-.- / ..-. ..- -. -.-. - .. --- -. ... / -.. .. ... .- -... .-.. . -.. / ..- -. - .. .-.. / ... ..- .--. .--. .-.. -.-- / .. ... / .-. . ... - --- .-. . -..}

Stats for Iron Mantle:

AC bonus +2, Max Dex +4, ACP -3, Arcane Spell Failure chance 15%

If stacked with light armor -

Armor bonuses stacks but is now treated as medium armor-

Use the worst dex maximum, plus dex bonus -1

Use the worst ACP with an additional Minus -1

Use the worst Arcance Spell Failure Chance +5%

Speed Becomes 20ft for Medium and 15ft for small.


MIR

You head down the hallway and wade your way through the water until the get closer to the barrier. It isn't until your within about twenty feet of it that you notice there is a hole in the bottom, near the floor which had been completely masked by the water in the hallway. The hole however was made by something pushing its way into the hallway your standing in. As the metal is curved and shredded outward instead of inward.

You discover something else laying in the water on either side of the hole. There appear to be two armored figures, they are both beneath the water and their armor looks like its been battered and dented. Much in the same way you felt only moments ago, as if both of them were attacked from all sides.

Now that you are close enough you can tell that there is no light on the other side of this barrier, the hole leads into complete darkness once more...

Investigating the other side of the barrier:

Taking a deep breath you dip beneath the water and slowly swim your way through the small hole in the barrier. Once you are on the other side you sloqly and carefully break the surface and, with just the upper part of your head, look around at what lies on the other side. Surprisingly you find an empty room, nothing but a deep nearly impenetrable darkness and metal walls that are intermixed with stone. The only thing of note is a large hole in the stone walls, which appears to be more jagged and less uniform with the hewn walls and shaped metal. It appears as though something crudely dug its way through the wall...


Tyrn

K-Checks:

When making independent K-Checks please list what it is exactly your trying to understand ;) Makes it easier for me to narrow down what it is your trying to have answered. Also make it for one - 2 things per roll, unless I post something with a generic DC then its all good~

Despite there elven appearance, your able to tell much more about them and nothing in your days of research tells you that the elves were this advanced...

Planar Study - Thats a long debated and heatedly debated field at that. Many find it preposterous, while many scholars entertain the thought of planar travel based on the sightings and myths of supposed Gateways or rifts that lead to other worlds. You haven't heard of many traveling to these other worlds, much less of items making said travel easier...

If you ewre trying to learn something more specific let me know in PM or Spoilers~ :D

Somehow your not surprised when you find that the figure is simply gone, no impact, no sound as if they had vanished into thin air after descending to the gardens below...

These strange visits however do not stop occurring, the next day, right in the morning as you are enjoying a quiet breakfast in your study you find yet another of these strange visitors peering in on you. This time however this one doesn't stand on two legs, instead it stands with six! Much like an arachnid but these extra legs make it much taller and deadlier looking. From what little armor you can see, it too bares the same strange symbols and swirling distortions as well. But this one is entirely clad in armor and its hard to tell whether it is a machine or hominid type in some sort of heavy mechanical armor.

Again though the moment you notice them, no matter how subtle you try and be. The stranger simply scuttles away without a sound, this time headeing to the rooftop and by the time you've sneaked your way out to see if it is still there, you find nothing but open sky. Like it had never been there at all.

Days pass after that and no more of these strangers appear, leading you to think that perhaps you hadn't seen them at all...

I'm working on the timeline but the attack on cygnus hasn't started yet, you are still catching up with the main storyline~


Male Human, Cygnian 2 Scroll Scoundrel (rogue) / 3 Archaeologist (bard) HP: 31 AC: 19 F: 2 R: 12 W: 6

Oh right on. I figured I was slightly in the past. And sounds good on the k-checks. What do you mean by one - 2 things per roll? Like, to learn one or two things per roll?

This is certainly not the first time Tyrn has hallucinated. During an anthropology study in the tropics, Tyrn participated in local cultural practices of the Unak tribe, and induced a hallucinogenic tincture the shamans make from the ayahuasca plant (for research, of course). But this was certainly different. How could he recognize the being? Can we perceive what we are not designed to see?

"Perhaps the distorted reality is a malfunction of our own inability to perceive..." he had played with the thought for these few days, but quickly changed thoughts as to just what the being actually is, knowing he'd never know the answer in any immediate time.

"Perhaps... I need a second opinion," he admits to himself. "I wonder if any of my old colleagues would still be around. I still write Ramir and Sam but Davenport did not move far. Or my sister Zoe. She's a bright one to tackle an idea with." He began to wonder if he was reassuring his sanity by getting a second opinion. He very well could have imagined the whole thing. There is no denying the possibility. That day, and night, Tyrn frantically "dismantled" his tome collection, hoping to find any information that would confirm the being is a part of this reality.

Swift action: Archaeologist's luck+1

Knowledge dungeoneering: In order to identify the being's race.
K-dungeoneering 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

And then knowledge history to recognize anything on the beings that would appear in other civilizations. Commonalities and things like that. Also, would this k-check get a -2? Is that what you meant?
K-history 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

Haha. Well, gotta get the nat 1 out of the way somewhere.


Female Human Time Thief 6 [Current HP 37 Total HP 37, Init +5, Perception +9, AC 20/15/15]

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

I lead Bera back toward the lift-shaft, Alright Bera, let's get out of here.


Human Fighter (Lore Warden) 6
Stats:
HP 73/73, Nonlethal 73/73; AC 24, touch 19, Flat Footed 15; CMD 32 (+2 v Trip, +1 v Heavy Blades); Fort +9, Reflex +8, Will +5; Perception +5; Initiative +6; Acrobatic Dodge (+17) [8/8 day]

Her jury rigged vitals will only sustain her for a short while longer. I must keep her alive long enough to take care of the generators and deal with “The Shadow”; any further time I can sustain her would be a bonus. Her peoples advances in technology could be what elevates a prince to a king.

”Please, Mistress, do not overburden yourself.” Cassian softly assures the augmented elf as he strains to keep her from slumping completely to the floor. Resolving to take a knee and look her in the eyes he continues, ”I've taken it upon myself to search the remainder of adjoining rooms for the resources needed to keep your temple intact but while I'm doing this, there must be something else I can find. For you. I need your strength and knowledge if we're to rid your sacred grounds of the foul entity that consumed it. What tools or substances can I use to repair you? Would there be any Servitors designed for such a purpose or perhaps simply reprogrammed to serve the cause. We both have a duty to serve and we cannot overcome the demons sheltered here alone.” He gently steadies her head in his hand and caresses her beautifully pronounced cheekbone with his thumb.

”My Mistress of Gears, tell me how to preserve you. I will not survive long without you; neither will your temple.”

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28


Stormwin

Sorry Di! I thought this had posted but apparently it didn't, whatever is going on with the forums is totally killing me this week. I didn't see any updates at all... D:

The extra line causes the grappler to be way more unwieldy but as the dragon comes in for another strike on the Airship itself you find that you would need every bit of line...

CoT MA: 200 ft

CoT SA: Claw Attack @ Smitty's Airship 1d20 + 35 ⇒ (16) + 35 = 51

-> Damage 2d6 + 16 ⇒ (2, 2) + 16 = 20

Its claws rake the side of the airship and it doesn't succeed in getting fully clear of your strike zone as it eyes you balefully. Its necrotite green eyes burning with a deep hatred...

Your turn Di!


Female Tabaxi Ranger 6 (Skirmisher, Natural weapon style)

Taking a deep breath Miri dips beneath the water and slowly swims her way through the small hole in the barrier. As she comes up into a dark room similar to the hallway, she notices a crudely dug hole in the concrete.

Warily she makes her way through the opening, alert for any potential attack.


200 dollars later and I'm back! My phone crashed on me while I was out and abroad! THe backlight failed and I can tell you typing with a flashlight aimed at your phone sucks! lol

Tyrn Jade

Yeah one or two things, Like your researching these 'visitors' of yours. So you could try researching elven armor and weapons under the appropriate K-Check. It just helps me to break down what your trying to figure out. :)

You are quite sure that the first being appeared elven in face and stature, the second one though was too covered in armor to identify and yet it felt so familiar. Shaking off the feelingyou try and find commonalities and find yourself at a loss. Much about the elves was lost in the ages since their leaving this world and traveling to gods know where now. Despite the half-elves that still exist in the world, they are mere shadows of the elven race of old. Their bloodline is so watered down that the human part of them is more dominant and those few who still carry a stronger elven lineage are reaching the end of their twilight years.

As you tore apart your library of tomes, searching for the answer you see a flash of movement. A series of dancing lights, much like the swirling patterns you saw on the first figure and, as you lower the tome and stare out your balcony doors you see someone or something literally materializing right there before your eyes. It's form is indistinguishable at first but after about a minute it becomes less translucent and seems to solidify slowly as if its form had to stabilize or something along those lines.

After another minute you find another one of those beings standing on your deck, hands clasped behind its back and staring out over the sleeping city of Argos.


Aelessaer

Nothing gets in your way as you make your back to the lift you activated before. Just before you reach it though the lights dim darkly for a moment before returning to a less bright and comfortable lighting. Whatever V is doing seems to be holding out, your not sure for how long though...

As you approach the lift you notice something terrifyingly odd. The bodies are gone. Not a single corpse remains, not even the filth from where you split them open with your weapons. Its as if they never were, not even the dust on the floor has been disturbed. However the odd weapons remain, lating on the floor exactly where the corpses had been, undisturbed by whatever had removed the bodies while you were gone.

As you step into the lift your faced with the lit up panel once more. It has two rows of buttons, three buttons in each row, all of which are glowing a bright silver except for one that is glowing a golden color. This button is the middle button on the second row.

Example
Panel:
Row 1: O O O
Row 2: O OO

As you work to figure out the machine, Bera keeps an eye out on the hallway. Watching for any movement and gripping her weapon hard in case something suddenly jumped out at you...


Cassian Vespertine

Her eyes flare open briefly as she fights off another wave of drowsiness as her systems continue to struggle to maintain her. However the look she gives you chills you to the bone. "Foolish man, I have no use for emotions or sentiment and this temple will survive without me as knowledge can be rewritten. Rediscovered by new eyes..." She shakes her head before suddenly slipping a hand behind your head and forcing your forehead against hers. "I'm sorry, but we have no time left to waste..." You were able to listen to her last words, as the moment your skin touched hers it was electric and before you could try and pull away...

Fort DC 18 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10

Everything goes black...

You have a strange dream. Your understanding of some of their technology comes into focus. The four types of Servitors. The Asistant, created to fetched tools and aid in work around the temple and, in large enough groups, they were known to form teams and perform general repairs unsupervised.

The Monitor, you had an understanding of this one already, a recording and playback device. Useful for recording notes or delicate experiments in progress.

The Sentinel, a basic combat unit that travels in swarms and slams opponents into submission with their thick metal bodies. They had been working on one that could fire a concentrated shot of energy but your not quite sure the techs were successful...

The Messenger, shaped in the likeness of a fish (A personal and immortal joke from its creator, that damn V...) and follows basic instructions to deliver messages anywhere inside the facility and up to a five mile range outside of the facility. Its inside is empty, much like a large scroll tube for placing the message inside.

All of the Servitors, to your surprise, actually fly around. It's unlike anything you've ever seen and for a moment you recall hundreds of them swarming together over head, repairing, recharging and going about their assigned tasks in a happy uniform way. Such a bright time then, the walls were golden or brass and so many acolytes moving around as well performing the great works of the Maiden of Gears. Cyriss. The memory fades and is replaced by another...

The only item that comes to your mind that could repair her is that of a liquid identified as a certain type of oil and comes in a special container. The name escapes you as it is elven and your not quite familiar with there tongue. Much like the one that you found the soul node in. Your quite sure you could identify it if you saw it...

You snap awake then, finding yourself on the warm floor by the workbench where Mog is still collapsed, head resting on her other arm as if she had fallen asleep working. Except you know that she isn't coming back this time, not until she is repaired fully. She performed a thought transference and probably drained her power nearly completely in doing so. You know somehow that so long as she remains in this room, well so long as this workshop remains powered up, she'll survive.

An echoing voice causes you to whip around until you realize with a start that you suddenly understand the voice that had been echoing all this time. {WARNING WARNING! Unknown entities on main lift. Security team needed at lift door. Multiple unknowns detected in main reactor, system damage, engineering team needed in reactor area. Emergency power fall off detected, temple wide power loss possible.}

Cassian:

Please Add Cryissian Code to your list of known languages, it is more or less Moris Code~ :)


Male Human, Cygnian 2 Scroll Scoundrel (rogue) / 3 Archaeologist (bard) HP: 31 AC: 19 F: 2 R: 12 W: 6
DM Corerue wrote:

200 dollars later and I'm back! My phone crashed on me while I was out and abroad! THe backlight failed and I can tell you typing with a flashlight aimed at your phone sucks! lol

Tyrn Jade

Yeah one or two things, Like your researching these 'visitors' of yours. So you could try researching elven armor and weapons under the appropriate K-Check. It just helps me to break down what your trying to figure out. :)

You are quite sure that the first being appeared elven in face and stature, the second one though was too covered in armor to identify and yet it felt so familiar. Shaking off the feelingyou try and find commonalities and find yourself at a loss. Much about the elves was lost in the ages since their leaving this world and traveling to gods know where now. Despite the half-elves that still exist in the world, they are mere shadows of the elven race of old. Their bloodline is so watered down that the human part of them is more dominant and those few who still carry a stronger elven lineage are reaching the end of their twilight years.

As you tore apart your library of tomes, searching for the answer you see a flash of movement. A series of dancing lights, much like the swirling patterns you saw on the first figure and, as you lower the tome and stare out your balcony doors you see someone or something literally materializing right there before your eyes. It's form is indistinguishable at first but after about a minute it becomes less translucent and seems to solidify slowly as if its form had to stabilize or something along those lines.

After another minute you find another one of those beings standing on your deck, hands clasped behind its back and staring out over the sleeping city of Argos.

Eeesh! Sorry about your phone!

Tyrn struggled to keep his eyes open after the long hours of research. His tea sat half-full and was now cold. The coal in his pipe had dimmed an hour ago. As the exhaustion blanketed his mind and body, he rested his head on top of a book on his desk, and just as he was about to fall asleep, fantastic lights appeared and dazzled his senses. "My word...", he exclaimed in astonishment, "What beauty!". His excitement trumped his fear. As he slowly stood up and approached the lights with wide eyes, they began to take shape. Two (it's two, right?) familiar beings materialized right before him. Tyrn, still worried about his sanity, almost immediately asked, "Are you elves?". He felt if he knew that, then he could reassure himself of his sanity because it would be entirely probable for elves to manifest from an energy form, seeing as it's just as weird that they completely disappeared.

Tyrn's head raced with questions, but he soon realized that he had a visitor and was not treating them with much hospitality. He nervously asked, feeling rather humble in their presence, "Would, umm... can I offer you tea?" he quickly, and somewhat stumbling over his usually more eloquent words, asked them again in Elven, assuming/hoping that they are.

It's like the scene in the Fifth Element when that security guard on the cruise meets the blue opera singer. Haha.


Human Fighter (Lore Warden) 6
Stats:
HP 73/73, Nonlethal 73/73; AC 24, touch 19, Flat Footed 15; CMD 32 (+2 v Trip, +1 v Heavy Blades); Fort +9, Reflex +8, Will +5; Perception +5; Initiative +6; Acrobatic Dodge (+17) [8/8 day]

I LOVE THIS GAME!

The fighter’s head was swimming as he came to. He was befuddled by his newfound ability to find meaning in the series of blips and beeps that had chased him through the halls since his arrival but the criticality of the message was too important to question the gift. The lift and reactor room were his utmost priority; now was the gathering phase, then came rigging the lift to get down to the reactor room and finally to stabilize the core. Suppose surviving the remainder of “Test Subjects” and Soulless and, let’s not forget, the omnipotent Shadow may be worth noting.

Evidently the surge has repowered the lift, so that leaves me to simply find assistance with Assistants and rebuilding my favorite elf to a semi-adequate state of existence before maintaining the reactor… Hmpf… So much information, if Cyriss is the ‘Maiden of Gears’ in what respect has Mog earned the title of ‘Mistress’? What purpose does the Soul Node have? And just what the f#!& is ‘The Shadow’? No fear, I’m sure I’ll recognize it when I see it. Hmm… Intruders. Have these been announcements or recordings? Mog told me some of the Soulless retain identity; if so, would they follows these instructions when applicable? To think there may be others here wouldn’t be far out of line. I myself simply stumbled gracelessly through a portal in a back alley of the city. Any number of men and woman may have done the same. Not my problem. The reactor. The Shadow. The servitors. Survival. That is where my attention must be. If I save the temple, I save any other prisoners by extension.

Sparing no time to scratch at the expanding queue of questions pestering his focus, Cassian retrieves the nimbus orb from the Monitor and plugs it into the Combat Drone that was left here in the workshop. (Assuming the mind meld gave me the proper knowledge) He takes a short moment to program the militant bot to recognize his voice commands before releasing it to the air and approaching the next locked door.

To program the Servitor. Not sure if these are needed or even the appropriate checks:

Craft (clockwork): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

Knowledge (engineering): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (12) + 9 = 21

As he stood there mentally preparing himself for the next series of horrors that were awaiting him in the next room he felt the heat radiating from the mutant bite on his leg. So much was happening that he forgot to recognize the pain he was in. The afflicted areas where he was bitten and clawed were still in the throes of battle; fighting infection and disease. He sends his sentinel white blood cells reinforcements with a small vial of blue elixir leaving only one lonely potion left in his sash pocket. ”I knew saving that boy in the tavern would come around and bite me. If he’d just followed my instructions…” he whispers to himself peevishly.

Cure Light Wounds Potion: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5 23+5 = HP 28/46. Yay! … *cough*

He whistles the Servitor to his side, unsheathes his mithral sword and waves Mog’s talisman to open the door. As the entryway parts from the wall he draws his pistol and readies himself for the worst.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Readied Action:

Take a 5' step and Trip any hostile creature that comes within 10' of me.

CMB (trip): 1d20 + 13 - 1 ⇒ (11) + 13 - 1 = 23 (-1: Combat Expertise; AC 22)

If necessary:

AoO: 1d20 + 11 - 1 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 11 - 1 + 4 = 27 (+4: melee v prone)

Damage: 1d8 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14


Mir

You travel down, down, spiraling downward at times, luckily for you you have claws or else you'd have lost your grip on the slippery damp stones...

Eventually you enter a large expanse, most of which blurs at the edge of your vision, however you make out what appear to be something large standing ahead of you. You can't tell though if they are actually living things or perhaps stalagmites because as far as you can tell nothing is moving near you. To get a better look at these stones you'd have to get within touching distance as the darkness is still strangely thick.

Perception dc 17:

One of the stones or beings, directly ahead of you an the edge of your vision appears larger then the rest. It also appears to have two points sticking out of it and curving upward toward the ceiling. At this distance though you can't tell much more...


Female Human Time Thief 6 [Current HP 37 Total HP 37, Init +5, Perception +9, AC 20/15/15]

Did the creeping darkness consume its own creations? Or is this V's magic?

I peer around the corridors as we move and spend some time contemplating the buttons.

Well, Bera, let's go with gold first, it's the odd-one-out.

Sword in hand I jab the golden button and peer nervously upward/downward as the lift begins to move.


Female Tabaxi Ranger 6 (Skirmisher, Natural weapon style)

Perception1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19

Trying desperately to peer through the unnatural darkness, Mirrianissa cautiously creeps towards the largest of the objects.


Ael

As soon as you hit the golden glowing button, the double doors shut. Quickly and silently, for a tense moment you both stand there waiting for something to happen. Then the doors open and you find that you haven’t gone anywhere...

Bera, despite herself, laugh’s out loud. Shaking her shaggy fur head. ”This box is without use.” She laughs again, a little more loudly this time.

Button six:

When pressed the lift doors shut once more and with a slight unnerving drop you feel lightness in your stomach as the lift descends to a lower level. However a few seconds into the trip the lift comes to a sudden and painful halt, the sound of grinding metal rings in your ears as it runs into something underneath it. The floor is now badly dented upward in several spots around the center of the room and makes it slightly more difficult to move around.

The damage though reveals a trap door in the bottom of the lift, but its so badly dented now that it will require a great deal of effort to break open now.

Lift floor is now considered difficult terrain. DC 15 STR check to break open trap door.

Button Four:

When pressed the lift doors shut once more and with a slight unnerving lurch in your stomach the lift begins to ascend upward. After about a minute the lift lurches once more and a chime rings out four times prior to the lift doors opening. The hallway beyond appears much like the one you left, save for some strange symbols engraved along the wall at eye level.

Buttons Three, Two, One:

When Pressed the lift doors shut once more and with a slight unnerving lurch in your stomach the lift begins to ascend upward. After about a minute a chimes sound four times as the lift passes the fourth floor. A few seconds after the chimes stop though the entire lift lurches violently and comes to a complete and sudden stop. The lights inside the lift flash brilliantly for a moment before dying completely, plunging you both into complete darkness.

Before you’re able to react you hear something strange coming from up above you somewhere, a metal on metal sort of scraping sound...

Perception DC 20 – No taking 10 or 20 sorries~

You may do two rounds worth of actions as well. Please break it down in your next post as if you were in combat~


MIR

As you push forward, further into the widening cavernous place you’ve found your way in to. You notice that these stones aren’t really stones at all, in fact they appear to be well sculpted statues of Tabaxi warriors intermixed with taller, strong looking horned beings who appear to be covered in a thick long fur. Some of them have long braided hair and they appear to be carrying large axes or vicious The skill in which they were created is remarkable and beyond anything you’ve seen in your travels, except for when you pass by High One ruins. Each figure is heavily armored, armed and appearing to shouing battle cries, some of the Tabaxi look as though they were rushing forward.

As you approach the largest of the statues, which appears to be in the central part of the chamber, you are surprised to see that this one isn’t Tabaxi or horned one, yet it stands around nine feet tall. It appears to be a large insect, standing on four legs, with four arms bearing a curved blade in each of its three fingered hands and it’s stone body is so intricately covered that you can see every ridge on what must have been an extremely thick carapace. It stands facing forward, weapons pointed towards an upraised altar, its mandibles opened wide and its antennae pointing forward as it too appears to be rushing forward.

As you follow the statues frozen gaze you notice more stones, more statues on the opposite side of this chamber. These ones are far more fearsome looking, each standing roughly seven feet tall, covered in a thick scaly skin and bearing long poled weapons and wicked claws. They appeared malformed though, wrong , as if their bodies weren’t made to support their powerful build’s. Some had misshapen appendages, distended jaws and other inconsistencies that would make survival difficult.

These strange statues were surging around an upraised stone platform, a large slab sitting upon a perfectly smoothed out stalactite. On this platform stands another scaled figure, who looks to be crushing something in its hand, laying upon the platform is a smooth skinned woman, her chest looks to have been viciously split open and her heart torn from her chest. Her long ears and hair identified her as a High One.

Perception DC15:

As you approached the Large insect looking statue you happen to notice that it’s weapons were glowing ever so slightly. It was a very subtle glow, as the weapons weren’t shedding a perceptible light, more like they were dimming your darkvision further as you looked upon them.

To try and remove these from its hand’s require a DC 20 Strength Check and this is is considered a Break DC.

Let me know if you are going to explore further and make the appropriate rolls. Making additional/separate Perception, K-Dungeoneering. I will fill you in once you make your rolls. :)


Tyrn

As soon as you open your veranda doors the figure shifts position, its armor flashing alchemical silver and gold. A moment of fear passes through you as you thought this one too would leap from the railing and disappear but, surprisingly, it doesn’t do that. It remains standing there. Looking off into the darkness, at what though your not sure.

He ignored your words initially as he spoke low and outrage tinging his words. ”We were fools... We should have never left, abandoning this world when it needed us most... There is no justice in this, no excuse for our folly...” Without looking at you he answers your questions, his earlier outrage gone and replaced by a indifferent and nuetral tone as he answered you simply and to the point. [b][smaller]"I've no use for tea, Tyrn Jade, The Chosen. Yes I am an elf. Now. What would you give if I told you I knew where and when the next city was going to be attacked?”

It is then he regards you, turning so that it could face you fully, the upraised plated that had masked its features before were out of the way and, aside from his voice, his features look as though they could have been carved from stone. He looked like a hard elven man, his eyes were the color of steel and just as hard as he appeared to be judging your worth in a single glance, his eyes conveyed the weight of years to you in a way you couldn’t understand. His high raised cheekbones were complimented by the length of his elfin ears, his hair was short, cut the same length as most soldiers, and was light grey in color. Turning towards you reveal more then the fact this being was an Elf, it also revealed a large Symbol emblazoned across the chest plate of his strange armor. The symbol of an upraised sword with a winged hilt, flanked on each side by a pair of long heater shields and behind all three an imposing high arched tower stood with a golden sunburst rising behind it...

K-History DC 20 or K-Nobility DC 25:

The symbol of the Dawnbringer.

It was the first symbol of the Imperium of Man; it was the very symbol that they rallied behind during the fall of the Bright Empire and the most infamous symbol on the continent at the time when the Imperium started to execute all non-humans that they captured. It was a bloody time period and much of the knowledge of that dark century was lost, save for the many symbols and standards that rose and fell during that bloody upheaval.

This symbol was abandoned when the first High Lord Inquisitor stepped down; his predecessor changed it to the upraised Fist grasping a sword, in the flag position, and that symbol has survived until present day. It too bears the same infamy that the Imperium has inspired as their cruel and unjust treatment of demi-humans continues to this day.

Your snapped out of your train of thought as the figure shifts his position, regarding you critically as he waited for an answer.


Cassian

As soon as you snap the Nimbus orb into place, you suddenly start feeling uneasy. Having honed your instinct’s, especially after the lost of your airship, you realize a little to late that these Sentries may only recognize people like MOG. As its multitude of eyes light up your suspicions are confirmed as each eye goes from a light silvery gold color to a deep and threatening red. It tears free of your hand, its visor slapping shut and hovers just out of reach. You can hear a whirling sound as it slowly gained speed, its rotation around you going faster and faster.

Then, as quickly as it started, the Sentry’s eyes dim back to a silvery gold color and its visor snaps back upward, hovering quietly, patiently awaiting orders. When you whistle for it to follow it falls in line immediately and hovers just over your right shoulder.

As you take a few steps you feel something brush against your chainshirt and your surprised when you suddenly notice the extra weight around your neck. Looking down you find a unique symbol and suddenly you’re wracked by a wave of nausea as a different memory emerges. You lean heavily against the work bench as your sense are overwhelmed by the sudden assault on your senses.

MOG’s Memory:

Holding you upright, passed out from the Thought Transference, she struggles to maintain the necessary contact with you while simultaneously staying conscious. ”Your going to be in pain Cassian, we didn’t have time to keep talking and Thought Transference is a barbaric and invasive process. Now. The emergency power wasn’t mean’t to support this temple indefinitely. It is temporary, short lived and more damaging then you can imagine. If you are unable to find the items to repair me, or something prevents you from returning then You Must Not Wait.” She continues to hold you close, as she was unable to do more then lean against the table as her internal systems began slowing down once more. She gasped for breath as she struggled to maintain consciousness a little longer. ”Sil cannot hold out and the longer we delay the more she will degrade. Sil can help you, she is limited but she is a resource as you wear my symbol. She may not respond initially and when she does, you must not tax her...”

You snap out of the memory, the last thought was the meaning of Sil’s name, System Integrated Logic-controller. S. I. L. As you squint around yourself, taking in your surroundings once again. The Sentry hovered dutifully nearby alternating which door it was watching every couple of seconds.


Female Human Time Thief 6 [Current HP 37 Total HP 37, Init +5, Perception +9, AC 20/15/15]

I tap my head, "Gold must be where we are... let's travel."

I press button 1.

As the lift lurches into position, I stamp my foot in irritation, "Desna's stars!"

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20


Female Human Time Thief 6 [Current HP 37 Total HP 37, Init +5, Perception +9, AC 20/15/15]

Waiting on perception check results, as I made the DC, before calling actions.


Male Human, Cygnian 2 Scroll Scoundrel (rogue) / 3 Archaeologist (bard) HP: 31 AC: 19 F: 2 R: 12 W: 6

I spend another use of my Archaeologist's Luck +1 and I'll take 10 on my k-history check, resulting in 21=(10(dice)+4(Ranks)+5(INT)+1(BK)+1(AL)) for the check.

As he subconsciously listened to his guest, Tyrn excitedly studied the armor and morphology of the now confirmed elf. He was amazed by their graceful features and peculiar attention to detail in their dress. Tyrn was always fond of elven culture, being fluent in both Elven (multiple dialects) and Sylvan languages, though their practicality now-a-days is of question.

Tyrn cools his mind from the stimulus and begins to focus more on the conversation. What could he possibly mean by The Chosen? he thought to himself. Perhaps all my hard work has finally paid off, and my studies have caught their attention. Also, why the armor of the old regime? On a bloody elf at that! This must have something to do with the Inquisitor that’s been in the city. He derailed his thought-train in alarm when the elf mentioned a city that will be attacked. He set down the tea pot and reignited his coal in a silent moment of concern. Pipe in hand; Tyrn casually positioned himself out on the balcony with his guest, peering out into the city while running through multiple scenarios of what could be.

”I’m not quite sure, really. The information must reach the Free Cities, no doubt, for preparations, maybe even correlations for a little preemptive sabotage of their plans, and I could see to that personally if you’d require. But I must ask, what is it you mean by ‘The Chosen’? I understand it is merely a title assumed to an unknowing and unlikely candidate who is capable of merely filling unique and often fantastic niches because of their extraordinary abilities…. “ he pauses and has a sudden tickle of flattery, ”… so thank you for the compliment,” he continues, ”but why in the cosmos have you sought me out? And why do you wear the armor of the old Imperium? Are you the Inquisitor? Forgive my bombardment, but this could be less molesting if you just had sat down for tea“. He grinned slightly, bearing his famously cute smile that has remained timeless since his youthful days as a vagabond; traveling all over and seducing women in most (Tyrn calculated a solid 74%) taverns. The curious scientist turned his charming grin toward the elf, looking for indications of a sense of humor (for his research, of course). A sense of humor can have numerous implications for them as a species! The sociological aspects could be greatly…. His mind veered on the thought for the few moments he had awaiting a response from the elf.

I’m rolling a Diplomacy check to convey humor and to increase my overall disposition with him.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 12 + 3 + 1 = 21

The +1 is Archaeologist's Luck and the +3 is Fast Talker (Scroll Scoundrel ability).


Human Skyborne Sorcerer 1/ Myterious Stranger Musket Master Gunslinger 4; HP 46/46, AC 22/18/14, Init +8, Perception +9, F7/ R11/ W6
DM Corerue wrote:

Stormwin

Sorry Di! I thought this had posted but apparently it didn't, whatever is going on with the forums is totally killing me this week. I didn't see any updates at all... D:

The extra line causes the grappler to be way more unwieldy but as the dragon comes in for another strike on the Airship itself you find that you would need every bit of line...

CoT MA: 200 ft

CoT SA: Claw Attack @ Smitty's Airship 1d20+35

-> Damage 2d6+16

Its claws rake the side of the airship and it doesn't succeed in getting fully clear of your strike zone as it eyes you balefully. Its necrotite green eyes burning with a deep hatred...

Your turn Di!

Ok, not sure how far away the dragon is at present, but assuming it's still within 190' distance from the ship...

Frowning now in concentration, as well as anger at the dragon and worry over Joey, Diyeana swings the grappler again, this time also trying to grapple the creature in the giant metallic claws iron embrace.

Claw Attack: 1d20 + 9 - 4 + 20 ⇒ (10) + 9 - 4 + 20 = 35
Claw Damage: 8d8 + 20 + 12 ⇒ (8, 5, 6, 7, 3, 1, 1, 6) + 20 + 12 = 69
Do I use Di's CMB for the Grapple Attempt? Or does the Claw have it's own CMB?
Grapple Attempt: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 Plus the Grappler's Strength & Size mods??


His stance never changes, his face remains hard and you don't see even the slightest twitch of a smile as the elf stares at you with his steely gaze. His voice was still indifferent and neutral as he spoke. "I asked what would you give..."

Before he could finish speaking another voice cuts him off, light and musical as it came from behind you. "Enough Talmarran. You are not supposed to be here. We're not supposed to interact with The Chosen, it is not Time. We shouldn't interfere..."

Talmarran stared back at the whoever it was that interrupted him, his hardened features never changing as he spoke, his voice however was harder then before each word cut like a knife. "Don't Interfere Salandra, DON'T INTERFERE?! It's our fault it has gone so far. This world suffers and we leave children to fix something that is centuries undone. I shouldn't have left and if I could have, I would have remained here..."

Looking back you see another elf, sitting casually on the side of your rooftop, her leg draped over the edge and regarding you with with a curious gaze, although you could tell though that there was a tinge of sadness in her eyes when she made eye contact with you. Her armor is lighter looking then this Talmerran's, more along the lines of chainmail with an outer layer of some type of light plating covering critical areas. The plates are lined with the same alchemical items and symbols you continue to see, except their are symbols on her shoulder plating. It's difficult to see though...

Perception DC 15:

The symbol son her visible shoulder is that of a Great Tree with golden and silver leaves.

Knowledge Nobility DC 25 or History 30, (Roll of a natural 20 will equal success even if your skill level won't allow you to succeed.

Sighing she hopes down and continues to watch you both curiously. She spoke in elven this time, a wood elf dialect that you recognize but it was older more... Complicated. Especially as you hadn't heard an actual elf speak it before, you learned it from the few half-elves that had been willing to share their culture.

She spreads her hands wide in a placating stance as she faced her comrade. "Yirkyua, foyil fi'uay ili'g aevaeuaf. Laf ioaewl'f ili'gua saegirf foyuay oyaeuafw fgualyk, foylaua pyirlays ioaew li'f aew wfuai'lj aew ili'guaw..."

Elven, Old Wood Elf Dialect. Linguisitics DC 10 - To understand perfectly failure will indicate a different message that I will post later.:

Elder, they tore you apart. It wasn't your fault their hearts turned, their belief was not as strong as yours...

Talmerran looks away from Silandra and back to you, completely ignoring her now as he asked you again. "Answer my question and I will answer three of yours Chosen but your answer best impress me. Also I will warn yoy that lying to me would be foolish as well."


Male Human, Cygnian 2 Scroll Scoundrel (rogue) / 3 Archaeologist (bard) HP: 31 AC: 19 F: 2 R: 12 W: 6

Perception 1d20 + 8 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 8 + 1 = 18

Linguistics 1d20 + 12 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 12 + 1 = 29

K-Nobility 1d20 + 5 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 5 + 1 + 1 = 24

Dammit! So close! I’ll definitely be juicing up my k-skills next level.

”I suppose, Talmarran, that the list of things I would give is much greater than the list of things I would not. I would certainly give up my retirement to see that your information is utilized to its maximum. The Imperium has oppressed the Free Cities long enough. Whatever edge the people can have against them would be essential to our survival.”

At this time, I’m sure other dialogue takes place, so I’ll just list my three questions and I guess we can just piece the convo together in our heads. Haha.

Tyrn approaches Salandra, walking casually as he inspects her armor, (In the elven dialect she spoke in) ”Salandra, may I ask why you wear different armor than Talmarran?”

Tyrn turns to Talmarran, with a dark curiosity, on the border of concern. The scientist asked, ”What is it that you did? What do you blame yourself for? Those are synonymous questions which would have the same or virtually similar answers!” Tyrn argued.

Tyrn finally asked, ”What is it you mean by The Chosen?”

Tyrn leaned back against the rail, puffing on his pipe with one arm resting across his stomach and tightly nestled under the other arm, patiently (yet excitedly!) waiting for an answer.


Female Tabaxi Ranger 6 (Skirmisher, Natural weapon style)

Perception1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Strength1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Perception1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Knowledge dungeoneering1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13


Tyrn

Talmarran raises an eyebrow questioningly as he dissects your words and more then likely he's reading your every move as well. "Fair enough, as long as your willing to give up your life."

Salandra winces slightly as you approach, more so when you circle her and your approach elicit's a quiet response from Talmarran. "Remember Salandra, no interfering." Salandra gives Talmarran a silent glare before looking back at you, that same sadness in her eyes. She remains utterly silent as you ask your question, while Talmarran turns away to look out across the city once more. ""

"Argos will fall in three days time, the attack will come at night fall on the third day. This will be an unavoidable event and they will not see it coming, any attempt to warn or mount a defense will be met with the messenger death. Any collaborators will be killed as well, not just them though but their families. Most of the city will be put to the sword and those few who survive will face a fate worse then death." He raises his hand to silence you momentarily. "The Imperium wasn't like this in the beginning, it was a center of Honor and Justice, this was a battle strategy to unite the continent against the Real enemy. It was my battle plan, except raising cities are counter productive..."

He sighs as he continies with your first question. "I can't explain all that has happened, but this world is unraveling at the seams..." Salandra protests for a moment and Talmarran turns, frighteningly fast, a blur of motion that brings his hard features to bear on the female elf. He points one armored finger at her as his steely glare silences her once more. "Don't You DARE child, I was waging war long before you were a twinkle in your fathers eye. BE SILENT." You don't miss the fact that when he turned she stepped back and that his words have a visible effect on her as she shakes slightly. Literally wilting under Talmarran's heavy glare. He looks to you then his eyes cold, hard and unforgiving. "You are one of the few old enough to remember the world half a century ago, think really hard Chosen, search your memory and remember the world from fifty years ago. You were what, ten, or has your human comforts made you forget such a short time ago?"

Int check DC 20 1d20 ⇒ 15

Tyrn Only:

Something clicks, it was the way he said it. You remember your childhood in Rennor, the city was more radiant then or perhaps that was just the fancies of a young child. You remember many days spent working shirtless in the warm sun and yet now whenever you visit you have to don a coat to avoid chills. Even in the spring. You had thought that perhaps it was just old age but the sudden twisting in your gut tells you now that perhaps you were wrong...

As the memory dawns on your face Talmarran smiles grimly. "It's subtle, like a slow-acting poison in your drink..." He turns away, looking back over the city of Argos. "The Chosen..."

Salandra steps forward and opens her mouth once more, the symbols on her armor start swirling faster and faster. A blur of motion that makes her appear distorted. "Ili'g aael'f..."

Elven:

"You Mustn't "

The words die on her lips as your deck stone cracks and Talmarran's body dissipates, like he never was. At that inopportune moment a quick breeze blows across the deck ruffling your clothes. Salandra stares in shock and after a few moments that's when you notice that Talmarran was now standing directly behind her, a long curved blade laying blade down on her right shoulder plate. She whispers something then, your not able to make it out but by the look on her face, the wide eyes and the fact she was still as stone now your sure it was a prayer of some sort.

Part of her shoulder plate splits away then and clatters to the deck, completely severed somehow and the chainmail beneath was split too. The swirling patterns that had once covered her armor die away completely then. When Talmarran speaks a chill runs up your spine, this was a hard elven man, harder then any you have ever met before. "I warned you child... Now be Silent the adults are talking."

He fixes you with his hardened eyes, his voice as hard and unwavering as before. "The Chosen are those selected to leave this world to service another." He pauses then, tilting his head as if he were listening to something that only he could hear.

Working on catching up, losing internet every now and again, please be patient as they are replacing our internet tower due to failing inspection. Woo fun in the remote oil field...


Female Tabaxi Ranger 6 (Skirmisher, Natural weapon style)

In stunned silence Mirri creeps through the dark chamber, studying the scene set by the statues. They were truly amazing, the Tabaxi warriors almost as real as she herself, muscles taut in motion, the larger long haired creatures, impressive, the vile monsters they faced, horrifying.

Perception1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Additional checks
Perception1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Knowledge Dungeoneering 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

She had no idea how long she studied the scene, reaching up tentatively to touch a statue here and there, taking in the layout of the chamber, the female High One being sacrificed on the table, interpreting the story of the battle.


Human Fighter (Lore Warden) 6
Stats:
HP 73/73, Nonlethal 73/73; AC 24, touch 19, Flat Footed 15; CMD 32 (+2 v Trip, +1 v Heavy Blades); Fort +9, Reflex +8, Will +5; Perception +5; Initiative +6; Acrobatic Dodge (+17) [8/8 day]

Cassian lurched forward as he is besieged by yet another forced memory. Reeling as his world become clear again, he pulls himself up using the servitor as an anchor and rubs at his pulsing brow with his ungloved palm. ”I do hope this doesn’t become a common occurrence.”

So, add S.I.L. to my ever growing list of tasks. Why must every man and machine be named a convenient acronym of some advanced or mythic function?

He takes a long look at the servitor he had been resting on. ” Well, Steven. It would seem we have work to do. ”

I’ll just go ahead and repeat the last half of my last post if that’s alright. It's my fault I posted so many actions without waiting for consequence. That and I'm the least creative person ever.

He whistles Steven the Servitor to his side, unsheathes his mithral sword and waves Mog’s talisman to open the door. As the entryway parts from the wall he draws his pistol and readies himself for the worst.
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Readied Action:
Take a 5' step and Trip any hostile creature that comes within 10' of me.
CMB (trip): 1d20 + 13 - 1 ⇒ (10) + 13 - 1 = 22 (-1: Combat Expertise; AC 22)

If necessary:
AoO: 1d20 + 11 - 1 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 11 - 1 + 4 = 34 (+4: melee v prone)
Damage: 1d8 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Critical Confirmation: 1d20 + 11 - 1 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 11 - 1 + 4 = 18 (+4: melee v prone)
Critical Damage: 1d8 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14


Male Human, Cygnian 2 Scroll Scoundrel (rogue) / 3 Archaeologist (bard) HP: 31 AC: 19 F: 2 R: 12 W: 6

As long as I’m willing to give up my life? Tyrn wondered. I didn’t sign up for this s%%!!. But after some quick thought, he realized that it isn’t just his life he has to watch out for. No one gets by on their own. Societies and civilizations do not progress by fending for one’s self. Tyrn cares mostly about him and his, because he understands not everyone can be saved and most people can’t help themselves, so might as well protect only what matters to you. An epiphany struck, and Tyrn realized that this act could change the course of this world’s people. He envisioned a world ruled by the Imperium, and how sad, degrading, and primitive life would be. This city does matter to him. It is his home. The people matter to him. For humanity to progress to achieve a eudemonic society, their advancement cannot be stunted by an empire of brutes and xenophobic fanatics. Tyrn locked his eyes to the stars as he thought, envisioning humanities presence among the stars, and with unnatural certainty, looked Talmarran in the eye and gave a joyful grin, (His face is a fine line between looking like a cute old man or a crazy dude with bright eyes and nothing to lose. Haha) and spoke in a deep content voice, ”Yes. I believe I could give up my life. This situation is far bigger than ourselves.”
Tyrn took note of Salandra’s facial expressions, and attempted to find a message out of them. Body language is the majority of communication after all! I activate another round of Arch. Luck+1 and Sense motive check to see if Salandra is conveying a message, intentionally or not, and if so, what message? I’d be reading for things like whether or not she is in danger or if Talmarran isn’t being entirely honest with me and she’s trying to tell me.

Sense motive: 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 1 = 20

”When you say ‘the real enemy’, are you speaking of Cryx?”

After Talmarran’s rash behavior toward Salandra, Tyrn grew worried. This man is clearly powerful, so he must not be challenged. I certainly hate to see dames be treated like that…. I wonder why she is forbidden to speak. Tyrn saw the worry in her eye and the look of desperation as she firmly stared at him. He wanted to protect her, but knew now would not be the time. As the conversation furthered, and Talmarran displayed masterful magic and severed her right pauldron, Tyrn took note of her armor’s reactions. ’Mustn’t?’, he thought to himself, Mustn’t what? What should Talmarran not do? Clearly they are of opposing opinions. She bears different armor than him. I have many questions, but in time. The safety of Argos comes first.” Still concerned for Salandra, he tucked it away and focused on what Talmarran was saying. At his point I will roll a Sense motive check to see if Talmarran is withholding any information.

Sense motive 1d20 + 9 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 9 + 1 = 11
A nat what?! Guaaaaah!!! Christ, I probably think he’s coming on to me. Haha.

”Leave THIS world? To aid another? Will I be helping Argos at all? And if I go, can I come back? This world needs me, Talmarran.” In that moment, Tyrn felt empty. Like the feeling you get when you miss somebody. He would certainly hate to commit to permanent departure from this world. To him, despite to pre-apocalyptic nature as of right now, it is still beautiful, and life after these great events will be better still.

Hey Cori, how are you treating memory checks? Do you roll and if you roll within the DC (which is determined by my Int. score) to you grant the memory? Just curious!


Aelessaer

Sorry foe wait!

Per Check:
The sounds remind you of the mechanithralls of Cryx, how they would drag their metal claws along the walls near the cells to stir up the fear in the meat pens. Slaves would cluster together at the sound because it herald another person being taken, another to be fed to the necro-engines or worse...

Whatever was making the noise was getting closer approaching from above quickly and it sounded like there were several of them...

Bera grips her tribal weapon tightly and looks up towards the ceiling her nostrils flaring as she prepares herself for a possible fight. "Many come, you hear as well?" She eyes you momentarily before looking back to the ceiling as the sounds of the scraping gets closer by the second. It is then you both notice the single hatch in the ceiling, its in the front part of the lift, up and to the left of the main doors.

The hatch is three feet by three feet in size and looks only large enough for one person to enter at a time. You also still have two rounds worth of actions. Followed by a initiative check please~ :)


Mirrianissa

I will use your original rolls since they finally posted :)

When you touched the blade a shock surged through your being, rocking your entire body just before everything went black...

Mir Only...:
Suddenly you found yourself charging through a roughly lit hall, your senses were crisp and clear. The growling voices of Tabaxi filled the hall, intermingling with the strangely deep bellowing voices of the long haired and horned warriors as they made their way up the cramped hallway. As you sucked in each breath you could make out bits of conversation now and again.

"Betrayers! How could they!?"
"We'll kill them this time..."
"We must save her..."
"Where are the d@#$ed Formian's..."
"I saw some of them felled in the lower halls... Ambushed in their own mound.
"We should not have ever left her alone with them..."
"Mistress Salandra must be saved! HONOR DEMANDS IT!"

A few more minutes of heavy running up hill leaves you only slightly winded when your group catches up to three towering creatures, their bodies covered in a thick, heavy chitinous shell and carrying several weapons each. As your group come face to face with the three towering warriors, they stop dead in their tracks. Despite being outnumbered the three make a fearsome sight, weapons drawn, antennae searching and mandibles flared as they shrieked a piercing battlecry. Completely prepared to fend off their previously unknown pursuers, despite the fact they were badly injured, their chitinous exoskeleton was cracked and bleeding in several spots.

They seem to relax some as they lower their antennae and turn away, weapons lowering as they completely dismissed your presence. You and your fellow warriors follow swiftly after them as they continue to trudge their way uphill. Their long strides allowing them to keep pace with your group until you came before a massive stone slab blocking the way. It say in a grove making it impossible to get leverage on the door from beneath...

Several warriors move forward, each trying to force the door open amid the coarse oaths of the others as they milled around in the dark. When the door didn't budge, all hope seemed lost until the three Formians stepped forward. They touched the door, they're antennae touching the stone as they're mandibles flexed as they wordlessly gestured to each other. It was then that a single phrase echoed in your mind. {DEATH. BEFORE. DISHONOR.} They're three fingered hands pierced the stone door suddenly, like it were made of a fine clay and between the three of them they lifted the door far faster then you could imagine. Each of their four hands gripping another part of its surface until they were gripping it lower edge and moving to lift it high enough to enter the room that lay beyond. But as soon as the door reached waist height one of the Formians grunted as a halberd like weapon pierced its abdomen, spilling its bright glowing blood onto the stone floor. Several more weapons thrust out of the darkness as the misshapen ones tried to stop them from opening the door.

One Formian falls before the remaining two lift the door above their shoulders, giving the Tanaxi and horned ones full access to the room beyond. The group of warriors forced the misshapen to flee before them, cutting some of them down as they forced they're way in and faced the what lie beyond. The sound of cracking shell brings you to look back and you see one Formian remains holding the door, their comrade seeming to have left them behind. The last Formian grunts as the weight of the door breaks its thin legs, forcing it to its knees beneath the massive weight. It doesn't cry out when the door finally comes crashing down on it, dying without a word as its body was crushed into the grove in the floor.

You catch up with the other warriors, pushing your way towards the front of the group as they stood in shock at the raised stone platform before them. The chamber is roughly lit, dancing shadows cast by guttering torches as the misshapen cluster on the far side of the central platform and a truly hideous scaled creature towers over the restrained form of the high one, who appears not to be struggling against her bonds, instead she is crying quietly. Much to the anger of the creature towering over her...

"RELEASE HER!" Shouts the largest of the horned ones, his braided hair swaying with his enraged bellow.

The Formian steps forward its weapons drawn when the misshapen raises its hand threateningly. "NO! T'e Ma'ter C'mes! S'e wi'l be firsss..." It's voice grated on your ears, its abominable voice echoed loudly in the chamber

The High One raises her head looking at the creature and shaking her head. "Don't do this, don't turn to darkness! Don't let yourselves be turned to evil!" The creature roars in her face, silencing her as its fellow misshapen moved forward, preparing to encircle the platform as the Formian stomped forward alone and weapons drawn. As she tried to speak again the creature slammed its clawed hands into her chest and with horrific ease breaks open her rib cage as she screams in pain. It was the work of moments and before you all could do more then roar in angered outrage, some screaming oaths of revenge as it raised the still beating heart of the high one high above its head roaring something in triumphant. "ZiUnDrNi DrNiUnMy DrNiI MyNiETyYZi StYLiIMy!" As it said the last word it crushed her heart, blood splattering the platform, its scaly skin and raining down on the dying High One as she whispered something you couldn't hear over the sound of so many voices.

Suddenly every misshapen stopped in their tracks, as they solidified into to some type of stone where they stood. The torches in the room suddenly surged up. Flaring brightly as the once dancing shadows started to coalesce into something else, shadowy fangs, eyes and forms mimicking your own. As the misshapen on the platform started to solidify a dark chortling laugh echoed in your ears and the shadows along the roof started to surge and writhe before descending on all of you. Whatever it touched turned to stone, freezing it in its last moment of outrage, surprise and despair. The Formian never stops moving forward, weapons upraised until the end, forcing each of it's solidifying limbs to move forward as it tried to reach the platform with its swords outstretched.

{ACTIVATE... NODE... CA... E...}

The Formians words boom in your mind as your own powerful limbs fail you as you struggle violently to survive, each of your limbs grows heavier. Turn to the color of stone, all feeling fleeing as the shadows drained your strength...

Fort Save 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

You open your eyes and, with a shock, find your self staring into the unseeing eyes of the only female Tabaxi among the statues. Her eyes staring defiantly back at you with her foot paws spread out in a fighting stance. Frozen forever, ready to fight, ready to die.

You look to your own limbs and for a moment you swore that you saw them solidifying, becoming heavier, unmoving. Before panic could grip you the strange feeling passes as you stand among the statues of the fallen...

Searching the chamber, you discover the door that the warrior's had entered through. The crushed formian's shattered blade lays on the floor amid the dust of many years. Parts of its chitinous body remain as well, the few parts that were broken off when the door crushed it into the grove in the floor.

Aside from the chilling vision before you find ways to open the doors from this side. Massive chains lead to wheels that sit on either side of the massive stone slab's, each has a rusted up locking mechanism that is still pried open. Attempting to open the doors by yourself would be extremely difficult...


Human Skyborne Sorcerer 1/ Myterious Stranger Musket Master Gunslinger 4; HP 46/46, AC 22/18/14, Init +8, Perception +9, F7/ R11/ W6

Doo roo roo


Female Human Time Thief 6 [Current HP 37 Total HP 37, Init +5, Perception +9, AC 20/15/15]

"By the stars! I will not die here."

I put my sword between the doors of the lift and work them open, "C'mon, Bera: we can't just wait for them."

As the enemies are coming from above, I'm going to look and see if we can get anywhere else from here: just because we've stopped suddenly, doesn't mean we can't reach an entrance at all. Does that make sense?


Cassian Vespertine

You did just fine bud :) I post the exact same way and sadly a lot of my actions get lost.

Steven watches you, a light chiming noise escapes it every now and again but it's different compared to the sounds of the announcements that you had been hearing earlier. As you reveal Mog's symbol, Steven slaps his visor shut and hovers nearby as the door opens up.

Beyond Mog's worksop is a now brightly lit cul-de-sac and beyond that lies the brightly lit hallway you had traveled down not so long ago. This time though instead their is a low hum and the floor, and walls seem to vibrate with the movements of unseen machines. Aside from the low hum and vibration you can feel the temperature rising ever so slightly, warming up slowly but surely as the power surge continues to liven the temple.

You take a few hesitant steps into the open cul-de-sac, expecting an attack, when your surprised by another bout of vertigo as your eyes start to flicker and...

MOG:

You stride down the hall your body felt cool, a warmth surging through your being but not like flesh though, the pulse pushing the blodd through your veins was more like a series of pumps working in time with one another. Perfectly timed, with jewel movements as they sustained your working form.

You notice someone nearby and are annoyed to note it is V. Walking with his usual and all so annoying confidence. After a couple of turns you find yourself before the great symbol of the Cyriss, emblazoned on the wall before you and indicating the presence of the many lifts for the temple. Revealing your symbol opens the double doors and standing inside the lift you select the second option. Which will bring you to sub section 2, the main power generation level and home to the heart and soul of the Temple of the Tranquil Ley.

As the doors open, nearly three dozen Sentries flood the lift and began scanning for hostile threats to the core. When their visors were down it would prove folly to make any sudden moves and any attempt to push past them would result in a similarly violent response. After several long awkward moments they retreated and moved out of the double lift doors and flanked the entrance to subsection 2. They had obviously been tasked to defend the entryway to the level and the further you walked into the sub floor the more patrols you met.

Servitor's of all types were down on this level, mainly Assistants and Sentries, but every now and again you spotted a Monitor or Messenger making its way around, on some sort of errand no doubt. The Assistants were performing maintenance on the various systems and moving around in swarms up and down the hallways as they ignored everything but their assigned task. The sentries moved in well organized patrols of one or two scores and regarded everything none Servitor with intense scrutiny before moving on with their programmed patrol.

Eventually you gain entrance to the main core, which of course V remains outside as your mechanized form was the only thing that could survive long within the upper part of the core chamber. You made your way down the series of catwalks, powerful ley energy cascading across your form before mingling back with the core, until you finally reached the bottom of the core and came upon a beautiful sight. A mechanical design that hadn't been tested yet, a singular and unique invention, your daughters new form. Today SIL would be reborn, she would herald a new age for the temple and bring about a new era of discovery and change the way the temple was forever...

Sil was covered in dozens of hardwired cables, lining her back, arms, legs and neck, which suspended her easily in the air. What few parts of her that bore skin gave her a very childlike appearance to Mog, but it was fitting for how developed Sil had been before her accident. Sil's eyes were blank, as she remained Inert without her Soul Node inserted and quietly you step behind the inert machine body and move aside the cables lining its backside and find the insertion point for the node. With relative ease you insert the node and feel a surge of pride as you step back around and see that the once distant eyes were focused. The body you had worked so painstakingly on was alive and moving ever so slightly. Before you utter a word the eyes snapped over to you, a small smile playing across Sil's lips as she spoke her first words, each of which was etched with excitement. "I am one with the Temple, I can see everything!"

Mog's voice comes across as almost foreign, distant as she speaks proudly to her child. "Good, begin the Selection then, we have a lot of work to do Sil."

"Yes Mother."

You snap out of it, pulling yourself out of the memory with less difficulty then before and now you know exactly the way to Sil and the core. So long as the lift is working that is...

{UNKNOWN ENTITIES IN LIFT ACCESS SHAFT, LIFT STOPPED PRIOR TO REACHING DESIRED FLOOR, SECURITY TEAMS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY CHOSEN IS UNDER DIRECT THREAT}


Human Fighter (Lore Warden) 6
Stats:
HP 73/73, Nonlethal 73/73; AC 24, touch 19, Flat Footed 15; CMD 32 (+2 v Trip, +1 v Heavy Blades); Fort +9, Reflex +8, Will +5; Perception +5; Initiative +6; Acrobatic Dodge (+17) [8/8 day]

Yessir. It's something I've been trying to work on but obviously...

As the next relentless wave of foreign memories overtook him, Cassian had the better sense to strike his sword in the ground for support. The unwavering mithral blade made the metal floors seem soft as it sunk neatly in a quarter inch without much resistance to speak of. Cassian was unsure of whether or not becoming so accustomed to MoG's intrusions was a positive thing or not but the value of the information they provided almost justified the suffering.

Quote:
{UNKNOWN ENTITIES IN LIFT ACCESS SHAFT, LIFT STOPPED PRIOR TO REACHING DESIRED FLOOR, SECURITY TEAMS NEEDED IMMEDIATELY CHOSEN IS UNDER DIRECT THREAT}

"Sil..." he whispers to himself as the latest memory fills more breaks in his present knowledge. She's making the announcements. I have to get to the lift. Whatever met her 'Selection' could be trying to reach her and now both she and the 'chosen' are in danger.

He tugs his sword from repose, whistles Steven into formation and begins running down the freshly lit halls towards the lift, taking caution only where the lights are out. Moving at 4x speed: 120ft/round.

Take 20 on Perception, Total: 23


Tyrn

All your questions seem to only make Talmarran grimace more and more before he responds simply. "Your not leaving yet Chosen, your time hasn't come..." He sighs as he tilts his head again, hearing something that apparently only he could hear. "Apologies..." Talmarren releases the handle of his large blade and it dissipates into hundreds of small motes of energy until nothing is left at all. Once the blade was gone he took a step back and Salandra appeared to be much more calm as well. "I'm being called away, but we will speak again Tyrn and be careful with the knowledge you hold..." As he spoke Talmarren strode to the edge of your balcony and casually leaped over the railing and plummeted to the street below.

Yet again though, no sound of an impact, no surprises shouts from anyone nearby. He's simply gone, leaving you alone with the tall willowy Salandra. She regards you with a sad, guarded expression but says nothing as she quite pointedly steps away from you.


Human Skyborne Sorcerer 1/ Myterious Stranger Musket Master Gunslinger 4; HP 46/46, AC 22/18/14, Init +8, Perception +9, F7/ R11/ W6

Ok, well while Diy is clearly not your favourite (understandable due to her Player's frequent delays in posting), as it's been about Two weeks now, and the others have got Several updates since then, do you think you could at least throw a Little update her way? ; )


Working on it, there has been complications at home lol to say the least. Both my wife and son are sick and I have had little time to post even in my other Pbp's then my main campaign. In fact the only reason I have posts at all is the Dragon speaking tool which takes several rewrites to make it... bearable. So please bear with me, I have no favorites, just some are easier then others to post for. =/


Aelessaer

To make things easier I will wave some of the rolls and proceed~ ;)

A quick search (one round used - one remaining) reveals a well hidden hatch in the floor, which gives full access to the shaft below. At first you didn't think you'd need it but as you searched for the hatch Bera pried open the lift doors. When the doors were open you found that you are just barely above the upper part of what appear to be a set of doors for the lift itself. There's isn't enough room though to pry open these doors and slip through from inside the lift, you'll have to climb down and open them from within the access shaft itself.

DC 18 Strength Check to open the doors from the access shaft. It will take at least two climb checks to climb out of the lift and reach the doors.


Female Human Time Thief 6 [Current HP 37 Total HP 37, Init +5, Perception +9, AC 20/15/15]

No rest for the wicked!

climb: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
climb: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

strength: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14


Male Human, Cygnian 2 Scroll Scoundrel (rogue) / 3 Archaeologist (bard) HP: 31 AC: 19 F: 2 R: 12 W: 6

Sorry about my delay, Cori. I'm in the recruitment process of a campaign I'm starting so I've been busy between that and school but I'm still interested in this game, no worries.

Tyrn raced over to the edge of the balcony and looked down to sneak a glimpse of "where" exactly Talmarran goes when he does that. Once he realized that nothing was there, as he had assumed, he turned his attention to Salandra. He casually turned around and leaned against the railing, reigniting his pipe. He noticed Salandra was a little uneasy, and didn't want to come off as remotely threatening.

"Salandra, I realize a lot just happened. I'm a bit overwhelmed myself. But I have to ask you very important questions. Why did he leave you here with me? And why does he threaten you so? You seem harmless enough. Please, come inside and we can talk."

Tyrn begins to make his way inside but glances back to see what Salandra decides to do.


DI!

No problems Tyrn! I have no room to complain lol! I'm the one that makes you guys wait lol! We've been babysitting four babies the last couple of days, so yeah I'm going out of minD as they keep attacking my laptop! xD

Di: you will use the +20 from the Grappler + Your on CMB check for your total bonus to grapple.

The necrotic dragon roars in rage as the Grappler strikes it hard, tearing several of its scales off and revealing more green veins of vile necrotite. With a loud growl it shrugs off the grapplers meager attempt to grapple it and suddenly wheels in the air flying hard to place itself directly in the path of the oncoming airship, it turns to face Smitties ship with a malevolent glare and necrotite colored flames rolling from its mouth. To your horror it speaks, its voice echoing across the skies above Rennor. "YOU INSECTS DON'T BELONG IN MY SKY, I WILL CAST YOU DOWN TO EARTH WHERE YOU BELONG!" As it spoke it weaved its massive claws in the air and to your horror, massive magical runes appeared. The runes formed rough circles around the dragons claws and as Smitties ship barreled towards it, on a collision course for the dragons broad chest.

MA: Move in front of Sitties ship and turn 180*
SA: Cast ??????

The runes that were floating move faster and faster until they are a shimmering blur and without a sound the runes and the dragon vanish. Leaving nothing behind but empty sky...

Spellcraft DC17:

The dragon is casting Invisibility!

Dragons of the Old World:

Little is known of the Dragons of Cryx other then they are malevolent and terrible creature of raw destructive power that seem to enjoy taking the lives of lesser creatures.

It is however known that dragons don't talk, ever. In ages past they were believed to have talked but this is believed to be more legend then truth. A child's fancy in the opinion of many scholarly circles.

Smitty, seeing that he has little room to dodge the dragon and, not quite trusting that it was just gone, decides to increase speed instead of trying to avoid the inevitable impact. A speaking tube hums with the distorted voice of the old salvager as he calls to several sections of the ship at once. "ALL HANDS BRACE FOR IMPACT!"

Joey remains missing down below decks, what is that boy up to...?

Your Up Di and despite the dragon flying ahead of you it is still within range of your grappler.


Cassian

If your moving to lift quickly then Taking 20 wouldn't be possible, taking 10 would as it is less intensive as T-20 because T-20 is more like a detailed search of an area while taking 10 would be the casting a look over your shoulder every now and again if you catch my drift. Don't worry about rolls though, I took care of it and its all good. :)

Steven easily keeps pace, flying silently along and spinning in mid air to search the halls you pass for any unseen threat and surprisingly nothing seems to way lay your travel to the lift. You arrive in the hallway leading up to the lift, a little disorientated as memories that are clearly not your own have helped you arrive here in the first place. But not so much that you are unable to act normally, just a feeling of lingering Deja vu.

As you take a moment to right yourself you hear something, like metal on metal, its feint but its definitely coming from the lift doors up ahead. Your suspicions are confirmed when Steven spins to face the door and its eye glow red suddenly as it looks for an unknown threat. However he holds his position, remaining along side you as if waiting for your command...

Perception (no taking 10/20 ;) ) DC15:

Ever since you uttered the word Sil the lights have been dimming slightly, as if something else was keeping pace with you as well, something unseen...


Ael

Climb 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
Climb 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26
Strength Check - Aid Ael 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Bera climbs down easily, finding each rung and hand hold with the ease of a seasoned climber. She easily slides in on the other side of the lift doors from you and tries her luck in opening the doors, aiding your attempt. She is soon grunting in frustration when your efforts fail to budge the doors.

Before either of you can speak, you hear a crashing from inside the lift, you catch out of the corner of your eye the falling roof hatch followed by a thing out of your deepest nightmares. This creature slams into the floor, rocking the entire lift under its weight. It sits on its haunches, its face a mass of scars and terrible wounds, while along its arms and back a set of metallic quills shake and rattle loudly as it looks around the inside of the lift. As it looks around the small lift it scrapes the lift floor with its long, thick nails that are curved like a pair of foul claws. It's then you notice its eyes are scarred over and its nose is completely gone as well, leaving it with nothing but a pair of holes in its face. As you watch it it begins sniffing the air growling as it picks up an unfamiliar scent, your scent.

Initiative Please >:)

1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10


Human Skyborne Sorcerer 1/ Myterious Stranger Musket Master Gunslinger 4; HP 46/46, AC 22/18/14, Init +8, Perception +9, F7/ R11/ W6

Cool post for Di! : ) But I'm a little confused. If she uses the +20 added to her grapple attempt, that would make her roll 30 in total. Does that still not beat the dragon? And also, you posted that the dragon disappeared, but then later that's it's still in range in front of us. Little clarification please?


Apologies, I've been distracted by several babies at once today so my posts are a bit... unproofed so to speak. The Dragon did disappear, and Smitty knowing that he has little room to try and maneuver around the now vanished dragon decided that instead he'd rather ram it as hard as he could and take the chance that if it was still there that it would take a beating rather then just dodging out of the way and taking damage to his ship anyways.

These dragons have a high high CMD, so while +30 is powerful it still came out to only a 37 (+30 to your original roll~ ;) ) which wasn't enough. >:) Now you see why I said a high roll in the beginning for familiarity with the crane was a good thing~ :D

Hopefully that makes things a little clearer~


Human Skyborne Sorcerer 1/ Myterious Stranger Musket Master Gunslinger 4; HP 46/46, AC 22/18/14, Init +8, Perception +9, F7/ R11/ W6

Yes indeed. Crystal now. Gracias! And so as she has no target, and she dare not leave the rig to check on Joey yet, I guess she's just holding on and bracing for impact. Oh, except this

Spellcraft DC17: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

EDIT: r'oh r'oh![/ooc]


Tyrn Jade

At first she doesn't say a word, merely watching you with saddened eyes. Then she bends down and picks up the separated piece of her armor that Talmarran's blade had cut away and casually she set it back on her shoulder, lining it up with its broken part before mending it with a single wave of her fingers.

The armor seemed to knit itself back together before your eyes and soon it looked as if it had never been damaged at all. As it knitted itself back together she shook her head. "He's angry and he has every right to be, but he must obey like the rest of us do. Don't worry about me though, he isn't a threat to me his blade instills... obedience." With that said she jumps up into the air, back flipping onto your roof without making the slightest sound. As she stood up fully again she looked down at you, her sad expression never leaving her face as she watched you. "Be careful with the knowledge he has given you Chosen."

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