With Strange Aeons Even Death May Die

Game Master Synxol

We each dwell upon an island forged by our ignorance amidst the black seas of infinity. Should your feeble mind correlate the seemingly disassociated contents of your skull, thus affording you an opportunity to leave your island behind, terrifying vistas of reality will entomb you and you will never know peace.

It was only a matter of time...every species can smell its own extinction. The last ones left won't have a pretty time of it.


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Female Wyrmtouched Gestalt Unchained Rogue Sorcerer level 12

Before the man in the Masquerade Mask shows up

Daxniss giggles at the sight of Wrathe, Ssilax, and Storm and says " Well I didn't think that the three of your would be here. Well played Storm at keeping your... dragon out of the hands of the bored lonely widows at someone exotic. Sorry give me a few moment's to clear my head. " Shaking her head, she breathes deeply saving the night air, while see might not have had as much to drink as many of the others at the ball, there was still an a linging affect from the number of sips from multiple cups to deal with.

After the man in the Masquerade mask has shown up

'Well shite, this is going to be a difficult road to walk, hopefully Wrathe will not bring this into a fight;. Daxniss thinks to herself, slowly moving her hand into a sleeve, she feels the dagger weight in her hand and says in a clear voice as the rage floods her body, working on removing her slight buzz " All well and good, perhaps talking might be a better course of action... unless you are thinking about taking these folks over. If you can agree to nonviolence, we can agree to that as well. "

Diplomacy check 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (15) + 14 = 29


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

The city was ever under the threat from these creatures, who by all accounts were here in service of nobility. One should not play with fire if they were not willing to get burned, and threatening the nobility of such a corrupt city was not doing a great deal to ingratiate itself into his breast.

With a word and a wave of his hand, Wrathe limns the creature in blue Faerie Fire.

"Begone foul minion of darkness before I fill this chamber with Sollight."

What this party needed was some fireballs...

Diplomacy was not his forte, as he had been drummed out of etiquette school.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

Hopefully blocking most of the excitement with his frame, Ssilax turns his back on the ballroom. The vampire had his full attention, but the thought of if there where more in the room behind him circling his thoughts.

"Wait, let us be calm about this. There are a great many innocents about, and I would rather not see anyone harmed," Ssilax nods respectfully to the masked vampire. "I would hope that you have a different mindset then your brethren. They and Caern had a rather rocky history together." Ssilax pauses for a moment to quickly organize his thoughts. "We have a chance for polite discussion, on which I would like for us to partake in. A battle would serve no one, and a forceful magical display would jeopardize the work we have done to bring magic into a positive light."

"If you would forgive the boldness of my question, I would like to know your thoughts upon the direction that Caern and its inhabitants are posed to go in? And perhaps a title I may address suitable for the gathering that I may address you by?" Ssilax politely asks, mindful of the roomful of nobles behind him.

Diplomacy (Hero point used before roll):1d20 + 25 ⇒ (9) + 25 = 34. Sense Motive:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Wrathe's sneer makes it clear that he does not share his companions' views upon unholy abominations of undeath. He understood their confusion of course, for these creatures looked like people, often acted as people, and were once sentient, but now they were something more akin to a virus than a person.

Perhaps one concession at a time was was how the undead had flourished in Caern.

Hostages were ever the way of such monsters; if not here than somewhere else.

Each day that this pestilence was permitted to walk the surface of Sel Torin only tightened their iron grip on the innocent citizenry.

As always he sees the world in the spectrum of magic, and he uses this as he sweeps the room, and glances at the masked horror.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18

Walking beside Dorian had done little to change his opinion of the undead, as he attributed the boy's apparent humanity to his own personal traits then anything like humanizing a vampyre.

He makes a mental note to not be involved in any negotiations with Caern, for his scare run too deep to see anything but death and corruption.


Game master

So to do a quick recap since I just had a moment to read the discussion board and saw some confusion which I am sorry that I might have cause, I was in a hurry trying to get out a post the last couple of days. While work has been slow, I have been on camera a lot more, so I have been trying to look really busy.
Argon is talking to a pale man without a mask, who was surprised that his charm person didn't effect Argon at all. Wrathe, Ssilaxn, Storm, and Daxniss are talking to a possible vampyre in a Masquerade Mask. Both events are talking place at the same time. Wrathe is Strongly Considering going Toe to Toe with the current person, even though violence is not being offered at the moment. Ssilax and Daxniss are tying to find a diplomatic way out of this, until they get to a location without Hostages in the way.

Masquerade Man bows and walks away and says " A refreshing conversation is not in the cards, I bid you all a relaxing evening " and with that he leaps over all you at balcony, vanishing from view, even the faerie fire.
Wrathe's senses tell him that this foe is overpowering for the entire group, Daxniss and Ssilax have a feeling that he might have decided thanks to quick words, to not kill the three of you.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Using the distraction of the departure the wizard releases a quick spell (quicken) while standing stock still (still spell) to bring into being an invisible sensor right behind the vampyre and his eye becomes distant as he concentrates to follow the monster (Arcane Eye).

Wrathe raises his glass and finishes his liquor, his eyes following the creature as it departs, and addresses his two companions over his shoulder, "You two really need to learn the fine art of diplomacy. I won't always be here to pick up your messes."


Game master

At the buffet table, the man pale man

" Hm, enjoy the rest of your evening, Corvallis is my name Master Argon, I believe that something has come up and I must go " Corvallis bows his head to Argon and starts walking away.


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

Argon says good day to Corvallis, wondering about those eyes.

Then, seeing the rest of his friends on the balcony, heads out there to see them and get some air.

He smiles at Dog, and says to the others, "I would have expected to see me out here, away from all the pomp, and you lot joining me after. Instead it is the other way around. Did you know, dancing is more difficult than it looks?"

He breathes in the night air.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

"That could have been interesting. Or deadly, one of two ways," Ssilax comments out loud as he looks over the balcony.

"Hello Argon, you looked like you where having a good time. We came out for a short breath of air, and ran into someone rather... interesting." the dragonkin says.


Game master

The rest of the evening goes by with nothing coming out of the wood works. No more mystery figures listening into conversations, Lord Osouf's daughter comes looking for Argon again for more dancing or more accuratly leading Argon around the floor. Which works out well for Argon as he learns how to dance and where to place his feet.

--------------
Wrathe's Arcane eye:
Folowing the masquerade mask man isn't difficult, as the man walls at an easy pace, and finds a secluded garden a mile away from the ball, and sits on a bench. Opening a pouch he, whispers a word and a stone that produces light, pulling out a book, he starts to read.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Wrathe reveals to the others what he had discerned with his magical eye.


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

Argon is a quick study, and learns the basics of dance. He doesn't expect it's a skill he will use very much, but who knows? He is one of the leaders of a city. Perhaps politics is in his future? He shudders at the thought.

"Just how bad is the vampire problem in this city? Perhaps someone should step up and go on a hunt, and try to eradicate them all. But not us. We need to get going on our next mission. Fact finding, and then into the belly of the beast, as it were." He avoids using too direct a reference to any of their plans.

"Where do we sleep tonight? My dance partner hasn't invited me to her place, yet." Tomorrow he plans to pay a visit to his priestly mentor, Kai'lit, to talk about the church in Sanctum.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

"I would think they keep there numbers in check rather aggressively. The vampire infestation was over 40-50 years, if I remember correctly. The cabal that was hear at the time was all but wiped out by the members of the Umbrea, if I remember correctly," Ssilax glances over at Wrathe.

Well aware of Wrathe's desire to break the hold that the Hell's have on his soul, Ssilax found his friends reaction rather curious. The dragonkin sincerely doubted that his friend had turned to a deity for help with the curse that will drag his soul to the Hells. No, rather than bend his knee, or to keep his "freedom", he would rather plunge himself into undeath, or make a deal with some foul fiend or deamon in an arrogant bid to outwit the King of Hells. How signing ones soul away to a different fiend was freedom was beyond the dragonkin. He wondered just how far Wrathe would go to do so, thinking back to the night the caster had appeared at the dinner stinking of brimstone and looking as though he had just been in a fist fight with someone wearing gauntlets. He wanted help his friend, but really was unsure of how to best go about it. Ssilax knew that signing contracts with devils would certainly not end well. It never does for anyone but the devil holding the contract.

Pulling his thoughts back to the here and now, Ssilax thinks about Argon's question a little more.

"I think it is something we should remain aware of, and put a few feelers out to investigate. But, you are correct, we do have something else to take care of," Ssilax agrees with a nod of his head.

"I think you are on your own as far as sleeping arrangements are concerned," Ssilax says with a sly grin upon his muzzle. "I was planning on meeting up with the rest of you around noon or so at that inn up the street from the tailor," The dragonkin's grin slightly fades. "Given that we have just made it obvious that we know there are vampires in the area, we should be aware of where each other will be staying for the night. Storm and I will be heading back the Grove after the ball finishes up." Ssilax takes another sip of the Evermead, thinking as he looks up into the stars for a few moments.


Female Wyrmtouched Gestalt Unchained Rogue Sorcerer level 12

" Yeah that would make sense, I don't think they are out in force like they used to be, I might be able to make roads at seeing how many might be in the city, but that could take a long time. Years in fact, if they are really clever at hiding themselves, I think they were trying to get information by listening in to folk. " Daxniss says while tapping her fingers together, her mind occupied by tonight's events, what little she had over heard and the number of offers she had received.

Shaking her head at Argon's words she whispers to Storm " If she decides to take Argon into her chambers, He is going to be a time, I've heard that she is rather demanding, I think he might end up with a crushed pelvis. " Daxniss laughs.

" As to where I might be well, I've got a few options for this evening, but for the political part of things, I have to play it safe enough where I might not make enemies if I can avoid it. I'll find you all at the inn, and I'll have some eyes and ears out to make sure everyone is watched. I doubt that they will try anything this evening now that they know we are aware of them. " Daxniss trails off trying to put pieces of the puzzle that she was handed this evening.


Game master

The rest of the evening winds down in a number of hours, Wrathe's Arcane eye doesn't report anything new and once the spell expires he learns nothing new. Wrathe's arcane eye, offers him the same picture however a servant comes out to the garden with a tray of food and drink for the man in Masquerade mask. The food looks to be a simple one: meat and cheeses, along with a pot of tea.

Lady Osouf and Argon depart for the evening, which ends pleasantly enough, Argon wakes up the next morning in a guest room of Lady Osouf's manor, his companion nowhere in sight and a male servant enter's the room shortly after he wakes.

Ball room is over and done with, Ssilax and Storm head back to Storm's grove, Daxniss departs alone, politely turning down a number of offers from the group of merchants and nobles skillfully enough to not spurn them.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

The sight of Wrathe outlined by the cities light's causes Ssilax eyes to grow wide. Something that Nethys had shown him, that had made little sense at the time (actually 98% of what he was shown didn't make any conventional sense). With the light silouting his friend, an image/thought he was given clicks together in his head. The dragonkin does a mad little dance in a circle as excitement swipes through his scaled form.

A mad smile suddenly rips across the dragonkin's Masked muzzle. The dragonkin burst out laughing, his deep voice echoing off of the balcony into the woods. Stopping after a few moments of possibly mad mirth, the dragonkin, he grins at Wrathe.

"I think I might have a new solution to your longevity," the dragonkin grins madly. "We have been too focused negative energies, we should be focused on bottling up positive energy. The sight of our masked friend got me thinking along those lines. So obvious now, how could I not see it?" Ssilax momentarily chides himself. "I need to puzzle out a few things, well actually a great many things, but I believe it to be very possible. Let me organize my thoughts, it is a bit chaotic in my head at the moment," the dragonkin chuckles and finishes his wine with a gulp.

"Tomorrow when we reconvene, I shall have something for you to chew upon," the dragonkin laughs.

Looking at the dragonkin with an arched eyebrow, Storm turns her head to Daxniss as she speaks. Laughing merrily behind her wine glass, the druid finishes her own glass and winks at the rogue.

"It will be good for him, he needs to practice his healing prayers," Storm says as she sets her own glass down. "Let's go play with some more nobles, I'm having fun with them," the druid grins wickedly and links her arm with Ssilax's heading back into the ballroom until the night is finished.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Master Dainoth had revealed a discovery that would arrest his rapid departure from this mortal coil, should he ever be advanced enough to enjoy its benefits (20th level Wizard Discovery of Immortality), though his surprising connection to the darkness of his fallen sister had yielded another unexpected benefit, as druids of advanced abilities (level 15) were able to remain vital right up until their natural time came for them to return to the soil's embrace.

He remains open to other means of attaining his ends, though the dragonkin was off the mark. Wrathe had not sought to sell his soul for his own ends, but to free others from Hell's torments.

Wrathe departs the ball, finding the first opportunity to shift his form into a sharp-eyed sparrow and wings to lay eyes on the man in the masquerade mask in person. He maintains his distance as he draws in details of the servant, the dwelling, and anything else he might discern.

There would be no need for lodging, as he would simply find a chimney to roost in when he grows bored of his reconnaissance.

Apparently this man was beyond him, which had his curiosity piqued, as does the fact he is eating and drinking as a normal man.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Wrathe understands how potentially exposed he might be in this moment, both because he was alone, but also because none knew where he was. There was a thrill being this close to a razor's edge, and it was likely that such a personality trait would get him in trouble one day, but in the moment he leaves his wisdom in his satchel.

Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (9) + 15 = 24

Drawing in more information about the man, likely his holdings, his servant, and the like gives the wizard more time to consider who he might be. He has lived the majority of his life within this city, and was aware of all the major players, even those that tended to remain in the shadows; Desia insisted upon it.

Knowledge: Nobility: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28


Game master

The mask seems to be part of his face, the craftsmanship is better then what most people would be able to create, a masterwork if you did say so your self. The servant is an elf, which wasn't uncommon in the higher castes of noblility however, the coat of arms on wall of the garden is for the house Oboboldis, A serpent eating an sparrow.

Wrathe has heard of number of things about this noble house, as they tend to stick to the middle in confontions, debates, and business deals. Obodoldis does seem to have their hands in everything, dealing with anyone one as long as it was legal. Of course if they did have any illict deals, none had shown up in years, there are a number of rumors about the house, but nothing concrete of course. Unlike other noble houses, the line keeps to themselves, not making a number of appearances.
After a number of hours reading by the light of stone, he stands, stretches, and turns toward the house, as he get's closer to the back door he says " Goodnight. "
Upon closing the back door, a shimmer of protection magics surround the door itself, then fade from sight.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

It had been so long since Wrathe had imbibed alcohol, or even really ate or drank anything due to his magical ring, that the slight buzz he felt from the Evermead brought a relaxed warmth to his body.

Nesting in a chimney, far from House Oboboldis the bird/wizard considers what he had seen. Before he would meet up with the others he would speak to The Huntress and ask about this house.

As the others break their fast Wrathe relays what he had seen and asks, "My mind wanders to Master Dainoth. Any ideas of how we should proceed?"


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

"I think we should head to the land nearest Kharbdys and then try to do some research. Talk to sailors. Perhaps Caern now has libraries we could use? And have you looked in the books in your towers? I imagine you've read them all by now, Wrathe. In any case, sailing straight into it doesn't seem like the best idea, to me."

Argon had arrived with a very slight sly look on his face, like a fox who had just enjoyed a bird and is now satisfied.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

Ssilax had arrived late in the shared lunch, looking tired, but excited, also, rather boldly uncowled hood drawn back. He had changed back to his normal attire. Greeting his friends, the dragonkin apologizes for being late and immediately sets in his cooling platter of meats. He fills them up with what he had been doing after Wrathe tells them what he had learned about the mysterious masked man.

Knowledge: Nobles (to see if he might remember anything other than what Wrathe already had learned.):1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Before they had gone to the ball he had made arrangements to speak with Grendel and Baba Yaga. He wanted to find out what they knew about this prime material plane, "Golorian," and if there was indeed a known portal to Sigil from there. Also, possible portals in Sigil that would lead back to their Prime plane. From what he had read, it was had to reach their particular Prime, although the specific reason was up for debate.

Diplomacy (? wasn't really sure what to roll for planer portal data mining :P ), Hero Point used before rolling: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (18) + 25 = 43

Noting Argon's expression, Ssilax can't help but grin at his friend.

"Well, to be fair, there are ton of books to go through. Several tonnes, actually. Kharbdys is a unique phenomenon in that, to my knowledge, no recorded event of anyone going into the maelstrom, nor the treacherous weather around it, and surviving has surfaced. No pun intended," Ssilax taps the white side of his scaled muzzle in thought.

"Problems that could possibly be over taken with.., the various means at our disposal. I am concerned as to the location of the portal, if any is down at the bottom, is how to activate it, if it is not already active. Our flight time will be rather limited, so we sill not have a great deal of time to search," Ssilax pauses to wet his tongue. He was a touch hungover from the previous night. "Much more importantly, where does it mystery portal lead. If it does not led directly to Sigil, then we have to find a way there from where ever we end up. There are a multitude of planes I really do not like our chances of surviving a few minutes, let alone long enough to locate another portal."


Game master

Daxniss walks in, and while the inn was empty she looks around making sure no one else was lurking around, once she was satisfied that there was no one else besides the owner and a serving wench she nods. Following her in was Calvoric and Grendal, along with a rather large cat.
Sitting down at the table she sighs getting caught up by the others she looks taps her fingers on the table and waits for the two half-orcs to chime in. Ssilax doesn't remember anything new from what Wrathe had told him about the mystery noble.


Male Half-Orc bard

Cal lets out a quiet laugh and says " Ah see, t'wid seem that we might have a bit of an upstart, as for vamprye's 'tis clear there'd be a few smaller fish in the undead pool. I'll be checkin' m' books and see if I can see find some hidden dealin' with th' house Obodoldis... I never liked balancing books but I've got a nack for 'em. " Cal drawls, and pulls out a flask.
Taking a sip of whatever was in the flask he clears his throat and says " As for Kharbdys, I think there might be a city in the center o' the storm, but I'm not sure, no one has any clue that I can think of. 'Course Grendal might have a better idea then me. " He trails off, looking lost in the past for a moment.


Female Wyrmtouched Gestalt Unchained Rogue Sorcerer level 12

Daxniss growls slightly at the name of Obodoldis, looking around at the other's she says " I might recognize that name, but I will not say anything here, far too many ears around here, plus it involves something do to the tail end of someone's meddling and bad dealings. Let us say there is some internal strife, that I'm currently dealing with. " Taking the flask from Cal, she takes a deep drink, manages to choke it down.
Wheezing she says " Gods spit! You think you could have gotten something more current, not all whiskey is great aged, if it was crap to begin with. " handing the flask back over to the half-orc she shakes her head.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Wrathe taps the table, "We currently occupy the land closest to Kharbdys, give or take a few miles to the southern tip of Saevia. All we need is a ship."

Sel Torin
Saevia

Regarding researching in this place, the fact that even admitting to literacy would be sufficient for execution not long ago, makes him a bit reticent to seek out a means of research in this place.

"I searched all the books and learned nothing new. It appears we need to explore it ourselves.

He had some thoughts about how to explore it from a safer distance, but stopped dead at the thought of a city existing 'neath the waves.


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

Argon laughs at Daxniss's whiskey antics. "That's why I stick to ale, mostly. Though that wine last night was truly remarkable..."

He hadn't realized there was no land closer to Kharbdys than Saevia. So his suggestions had already been followed, and he knows not to second guess Wrathe, or Ssilax, when it comes to research and knowledge. If Wrathe and Ssilax don't know something, it is a closely guarded secret. It makes him think of Almas, and how it somehow avoids being found. Perhaps Almas is in the middle of the storm? He remembers a bit about his journey from that mystical island, but a lot of the trip was shrouded in fog, and he recalls his father telling him the ship was just following the winds and currents.

If water goes down a whirlpool, does it have to come up somewhere else? Perhaps that's what's happening - water and air are sucked into the middle of the storm, and after it deposits its debris and stowaways somewhere, the water and air come back up from the outside, pushing away any ships that venture near.

"So, therein lies another problem. Nobody in their right mind would take us where we want to go. Will we have to buy, or steal, a ship? Even then, we'd still need a crew."

If only they could fly in.

"Is there any way to fly in? I saw pictures as a child, of ships that ride the air streams. I'm sure they were fanciful, but who knows? Or, what about a flying creature, such as a Pegasus?"


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

"If I can find a way to procure a number of mostly intact corpses I can handle the crew problem without us worrying about endangering anybody but ourselves."

Wrathe waggles his eyebrows, but does not elaborate further.

Flight was within their reach but not for the length of time and distance required for this adventure.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

Very curious to hear more, Ssilax turns his attention towards Grendel. Well, most of his attention, there was a mostly full plate of lunch that needed to be vanquished.


Game master

Plans are discussed, Grendal confirms that there is indeed a city at the center of the malstrom, however they are not keen on anyone visiting them, the city is a mixture of sea fairing humanoids, not to mention a dragon of the sea watches over the city. There might be away but it will take time to gather materials, along with the mostly intact bodies that Wrathe would need to cast the spells required.
Cal and Grendal tell you that it will be a month to gather a ship that is sea worthy and the required funds, nothing much can be done at this point, not to mention there is a rock that fell from space to go gather. Calvoric reveals no new information about Golorian, except there are a number of open portals that were created long ago, by folk attempting to flee from the coming storm many, many years ago.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

It is all that Wrathe can do to stop from launching a fireball in frustration. Another delay! Knuckles whiten as he tries to fend off the barrage of thoughts of what might be happening to their master with each passing day. Reflexivity reveals that part of his frustration came from his total failure in securing the release of those he felt responsible for. He had offered everything, including his soul, and he gained nothing, not even a lead towards furthering his ends.

"I will meet you at the stone. I will go lay avian eyes upon this maelstrom."

Leaping in the air, it is a sea-faring bird that appears and takes to wing. He had a journey of many hundreds of miles ahead of him.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

About to open his maw, Ssilax shrugs his shoulders instead as his friend takes wing. It's not like Wrathe would listen to him anyway. The dragonkin turns back to his lunch and considers the information. The city hidden within the maelstrom was something he had written off a nothing more than a fanciful tale. For a few moments, the dragonkin considers the powerful magics that would keep the ocean at bay from the hidden city. As his thoughts linger on such a city existing in the first place, Ssilax wonders just home incomplete their libraries where.

While Ssilax wasn't wild about the delay, the dragonkin kept coming up empty with things he could do to assist finding a disposable ship for them to use. He certainly wasn't powerful enough to create one out of magic, or with divine aid. Still, that knowledge doesn't stop the dragonkin from digging through his memory to see if he can help an some form or another.

Thought turn towards Dainoth, Ssilax worries what has become of the human he considers to be a father. The delay frustrates him, but Ssilax had been taught to not rush into a situation unprepared, or with his emotions unchecked. The second part he still struggles with at times, he would be the first to admit this. They would be on there own once they reached Sigil, a city almost larger than he could comprehend. The descriptions of the place made his head swim just thinking about it.

"Well, sort of any advice to not be slain outright by the beings that live there, I guess we are ready to start heading back. Unless anyone has anything else to take care of in Caern?" Ssilax says as he finishes his meal.


Game master

Wrathe turns into an Albatross and takes to the air alone in his scouting plan, never mind that it will take many days to fly to the spot where the Maelstrom is believed to be. Wrathe is able to keep his direction without difficulty and after traveling half a day which is roughly about 40 miles from the city when you notice something in the sky This light purple dragon has immense wings and a bifurcated tail, each end tipped with a hooked stinger. Heavy smoke drips from the beast's nostrils and jaws.
This creature has noticed you and is flying towards you, it's intent is clear, lunch has arrived, and the main course is you, it will take some work to avoid this thing.
The others in the time that Wrathe has gone off to scout, can take care of there plans in Caern if they have anything else that they wish to. Grendel and Calvoric leave the group shortly after lunch, already discussing other options to get to the Maelstrom.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Having left straight south from Caern the wizard glances about for boats, or any other sign of civilization above the waters that slide by below him, and glancing up his sharp eyes widen at the threat. Diving steeply he shifts into a sailfish just before the waters reach up to grab him, takes a deep breath through his gills, and slides deep under the briny depths in search of a means to avoid contact with the dragon.


Game master

Daxniss is strangly quiet for the rest of the day, spending more time watching the group's back.

Wrathe roll for initiative


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

Argon waves to Wrathe as he flies away; and similarly says good bye to the ancient vampires who have almost become friends.

Hearing Ssilax's question about Sigil, Argon asks, "What? What do you know about Sigil? We all need to know, if it is truly dangerous."

He has nothing in particular he needs to do in Caern, so he plans to sleep in the afternoon.

"Are we leaving tomorrow to get the rock?"


Game master

Wrathe.

Wrathe sees an outcropping of rocks along a small island, the island isn't on any maps due to how tiny it is. It is about a mile long by a half a mile wide, a small mountain can be seen with a little bit of smoke rising from the center. The dragoniod, that is following you screeches, you can hear more screeches in the air above you.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Initiative: 1d20 ⇒ 7


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

He knew that one day his curiosity was likely to kill him, but he cannot help but let forth a giggling bubble as his little tiny heart beats with the excitement of the adrenalin of the moment. All he ever wanted to do was fly, and here he was flying underwater just a split second after hurtling through the air. He would hug his sister if she was not dead, or totally evil.

Wrathe scours his fish-brain for anything he had ever heard or read about dragonoids.

Knowledge: Arcana: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (14) + 20 = 34

He tries to place the small island on a mental map, should it be useful at a later date.

Knowledge: Geography: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (4) + 13 = 17

For now he is in flight mode, and seeking to use all of his abilities to escape.

Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18

With a burbling word he disappears (quickened invisibility) and continues swimming for his life, moving as low as he is able to withstand, and finning along at top speed.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

Ssilax relates what he knows about Sigil from various tomes he had read. It was a hard place to describe, a city built like a ring that floats above an infinite spire in the center of the multiverse. The dragonkin does his best, making sure that he points out that Sigil is a meeting place for nearly everyone. No race, except for demons, deamons and full gods are barred entry to the Sigil.

Pausing to take a drink, Ssilax thinks about Argon's question for a few moments.

"I do not see why we could not stay in Caern for one more day, if Dax has no objections. Wrathe will be meeting us at the stone when he is finished, and it is only a two days ride away. The maelstrom, if I remember correctly, would take longer to reach by flight of a bird," Ssilax taps the side of his snout as he thinks. "I am a little concerned that Wrathe left on his own, but he is crafty. I just hope all he does is reconnaissance, rather than try to reach the city on his own," Ssilax adds with a chuckle and smile.

The dragonkin wouldn't mind staying for one more day and then heading out early in the morning. Ssilax enjoys the time that he and the druid get to spend together, as Storm has her own duties as the guardian of the circle that lies within Caern.


Game master

Wrathe manages to give the dragoniod the slip, while on the move it remembers reading treatise on different types of dragons. These beings were referred too as wyvens, this sub species was known for eating sailors and cargo that was carbon based with relish.
Wrathe's underwater swimmming is paused due to the fact a large glowing o jet that looks vaguely humanoid approachs him, as the being gets closer without a malice intent.
Once the being gets close enough for Wrathe to see it clearly the almost blinding light dims enough for Wrathe to get a good enough look at it. Wrathe knows exactly what this being is, a celestial messager, tasked to find whomever is the recipient of the message. Powerful holy magic is used, since it usually is doing the bidding of a solar. Words are heard in your mind " Hullo sir Wrathe I have a message from an friend, 'the old man is alive and breathing. "


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

Argon nods and says, "Sure, I'm in no hurry if someone has something to do tomorrow. I will go and talk to Kai'lit, about church stuff and metalworking both. Yeah, I hope Wrathe isn't fine. If he runs across a ship full of slaves, I could see himself getting into trouble quickly..."


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Sliding effortlessly through the icy black of the briny depths the druidic sailfish cannot help but wonder if his Evermead had been spiked by something with psychoactive qualities. Perhaps it is the first time a sailfish has shrieked within the Okeanos Sea.

Slowing his pace, he maintains only enough motion to wash water through his gills, and to consider this strange visitor that pierces his invisibility as if it were not there, and finds him despite his remote position and form.

It has his attention.

Wrathe glides around the celestial messenger as he considers the last messenger's words: "Lost little Ssilax, Daxniss the seer, Wrathe the Mad, and faithful Argon. The fates brought me here with a message: the answer.to the question lies in Golorian land of paths. We are here for blood though, any blood will do."

His reply is surprisingly clear, considering it passes forth from fish lips (Wild Speech), "Who sent you? Where is this 'old man' you speak of? Tell me something of me that only a friend would know."

Wrathe wanted to believe so badly, but he could not give in so easily without being sure.

Sense Motive (Hero Point before the roll): 1d20 + 15 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 15 + 8 = 29


Game master

The Celestial messenger says in your mind " Boy, don't make me tan your hide, inept apprentices who are to lazy to learn don't last. "
and the blank stare of the being seems to wait for another query of questions but each time it answers you, it seems to fade a little more.
Wrathe doesn't believe that this being is lying to him, in fact it would seem that it has no ability to lie. In a flash he realizes that this a message from Master Dainoth.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

Wrathe stops swimming. Hanging motionless with his mouth hanging agape. Such is the ignorance of the moment when suddenly he realizes that he is no longer breathing until he pushes water across his gills once more.

The celestial creature would not last so he cuts to the chase.

He asks the question that had pressed down on them for more than a year, "Are you in Sigil? Must we hurry to rescue you?" He words felt foolish and childish, and only then did he realize the weight that pressed down on him.

Caudal snapping back and forth, bills slicing through the water like a prow of a great ship, body undulating perfectly in rhythm with his tail, the druidic sailfish reaches speeds far in excess of what any animal on land could achieve. Only when he is back in sight of Caern does he turn towards the surface, and with a burst of power does he launch free of the briny embrace, breaching the water nearly 20' in the air, and becomes a sparrow once again to wing back to meet up with the others.

He would bring the answer back to them, so they could share in the joy of the moment.


Male Argon Gestalt Slayer-Cleric 12

Argon says goodbye to the others, arranging to have breakfast at the inn. He heads to Kai'lit's forge and temple, to see if his old mentor has time to have a meal at his favourite tavern, assuming he has one.

He intends to discuss the setting up of a temple in Sanctum, and ask him if he would like to be the priest there. He also asks what knowledge he has of sky metal, along with some other more down-to-earth questions about working metal.


Game master

" Boy, I am in Sigil and at the moment am quite fine, now find the others... " The messenger fades from existence, having spent all of it's energy and the rest of the message has been sent, it's task completed, it returns to the Celestial Realms.
The path is clear, Wrathe has conformation that master Dainoth is alive, how he managed to pull of a planar allay spell to send a message, not to mention crossing multiple planes to send word to one of his wards. To carry on towards the Maelstorm just just to view things would be foolish as hope has given him it's answer.


Xthian Shadowcaster Conjurer / Gestalt Druid

It is evening when the exhausted sparrow wings to a roost upon the closest chimney within the city's walls. Sharp avian eyes scour the area in search of the others. After a short rest he flits about the city joyfully riding warm contrails and avoiding predators, both winged and humanoid.

When finally reunited he cannot hide an impish grin, "I received a message from a distant amputee confirming his location to be the one we learned of. There is no rush, as, by his own admission, he is fine."

Wrathe's shoulders lower from his ears for the first time since the creature had stolen his master, leaving behind only his severed hand. Easy smiles play across his face, and the heaviness that had weighed him down appears to have finally lifted.

He imagined that his departure had not been well received, as it was impulsive and reckless, but if truth be told he did not wish to risk anyone else's lives. Retrospect told him that if he had fallen in the depths, it would have been devastating (potentially less so since he had likely angered everyone) since they probably never would have learned what came of him.

Wrathe's incivility had stood in the way of whatever exchange might have transpired while rubbing elbows with the elite, and while he would rather suck on a pseudodragon's tail than ever hobnob again, he understand that his words had unintentionally had a deleterious effect upon the other's chances to further the growth of Sanctum.

Perhaps he should reconsider his position on Caern, rather than just hoping it burns to the ground for past ills.

Playful words spill forth as an attempted balm to soothe any ill feelings, "I assume you have all married undead in my absence. Did anyone name their little unholy dhampir after uncle Sepai?"

His flippant words are followed quickly by, "I acted as a boor. In my defence, you know I do not play nicely with others."


Female Wyrmtouched Gestalt Unchained Rogue Sorcerer level 12

The morning after Wrathe returning, sense Wrathe has been gone for about a day, due to the fact he had to spend half a day flying there and the way back.

Daxniss slapped Wrathe on the shoulder and says " Oh aye, we had a whole litter, I'm glad that you are no longer are a sourpuss. " Shrugging her shoulders she still keeps on eye on the group, she seems on edge, rather than being at ease while in Caern.


Male Dragonkin Cleric/Wizard level 12

Surprised to see Wrathe again so quickly, as he had expected his friend to return while they where doing the actual work of removing the space rock. The dragonkin sat down rather quickly, feeling like he had just been hit with a pole axe. His mind is a whirl of thoughts, feelings, questions, with dashes of confusion thrown in.

While at first Ssilax was a touch annoyed that Wrathe had just left, it had allowed him an excuse to stay in Caern and Storm's company for another day. So, honestly, the dragonkin had nothing to be sore about. Other than he could use a long nap. Besides, he had expected Wrathe to dodge any actual work involved with moving the boulder from space.

"Nope, sorry, no marriages, or undead children floating around, sorry to disappoint," the dragonkin says with a faint grin, taking a drunk from his spiced wine.

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