The rest of the evening is spent in conversation, drinks, mundane matters such as food, information, Wrathe is seen briefly to enjoy some food and drink, adding little to the conversation, upon closing time for the bar, Argon retires for the evening. Wrathe finds a quiet spot to change his form and take shelter for the evening in the rafters of the stable or perhaps a tree to take his evening respite.
Ssilax had been carried off to his room, and his liver will inform him that while it enjoyed the task of filtering out so much drink, not to make it a habit. Dog sleeps on the same bed, giving the impression that he is indeed in a food coma.
The next morning Daxniss, swats Zass out of her bed, informing him that needs to cook her breakfast and doses slightly before getting ready for the day. Joining the others after she had a quick bath, she makes no mention about her evening to the others, as they had another visit to the doctor about portals to Sigil, or perhaps a gate.
Soaring to the ground, Wrathe's sharp eyes pick out a spot to return to his bipedal form, before landing and completing the transformation in an alleyway festooned with the castoffs off this society.
He joins the others.
Forced awake by his evil bladder needing to be emptied, not to mention years of offering prayer and mediation worked better than any alarm, the dragonkin groans as he rolls to his side. Ssilax was groggy, and his mouth tasted like something had died in it. The dragonkin then made the mistake of sitting up right.
Had Ssilax been aware that Argon was waiting for him to sit up and then hit him in the head with the obsidian hammer, he never would have gotten out of bed.
Fumbling for the nearby mug, Ssilax prays that it is water. He wasn't sure, but he could swear the dim light in the room had borrowed it's strength from the actual sun. Closing his eyes, dragonkin downs the water, trying to remember the previous night. 'Hells, the previous day for that matter,' the dragonkin thinks, fuzzy headed and just starting the adventure that was his hangover.
Sometime later, about a half-hour later than he normal is facing the day, Ssilax is prepared to leave his room. Well, mostly ready, trying to think around the anvil being worked on in his head was easier said than done. Nethys hadn't turned him into a newt, so thankfully he didn't screw up any of his prayers.
After lazily stretching, Dog hops off the bed, wagging his tail cheerful, looking up at Ssilax, he cocks his head to the left. Ssilax didn't even have to look at Dog to know he was laughing at the dragonkin's state.
"Remind me to never again question a half-dragon when drinks are involved," Ssilax mutters to his familiar, who wags his tail.
Leaving his room, the dragonkin makes his way downstairs. He was moving slowly, using the wall occasionally for support, the hood of his robe pulled forward to shield his eyes. Reaching the bar area after what felt like the better part of a year, Ssilax drops himself down in a bar stool with a grunt.
"Coffee. The strongest, blackest coffee that you have. Just bring me the pot and a mug," Ssilax grunts out when asked what he would like. Dog pads up to Ssilax and sits down after sneaking out to the stable. "And Dog will take his usual bowl of meat and chew bone." A very faint grin can be seen from the bit of snout that was exposed.
Waiting for his poison to brew, the dragonkin waits for the others. Squinting, he glances around trying to remember last night. Once Argon makes his appearance, the dragonkin looks at his friend, sapphire orbs bloodshot and bleary.
"Morning. I think. I vaguely remember having a few tankards with you last night. Please tell me that the memory I have of singing is false, because I am pretty certain I should not be singing in public. Or around anyone that can hear, for that matter," Ssilax says with a weak smile.
Hopefully, my head will stop pounding by the time we get to the Society and speak with the doctor,' Ssilax thinks as he catches a whiff of coffee in the air.
Argon laughs as Ssilax comes down and questions his reality. Argon had slept late, but not as late as Ssilax. They were at a table, eating a good breakfast, when Dog had appeared, then Ssilax.
"Yes, singing you were, a song in Draconic about a dragon and a elven maid. Well, she was no maid by the end of the song, but that result was ever doubtful until the climax. Of the song. Don't worry, only those who understand Draconic heard it. Seemed to have been a great many of the patrons, though."
He's wearing new clothing, but simple, a red tunic covering his breastplate; and a brown leather hat with a visor and warm-looking fur down the insides, covering his ears.
Zass can be seen cooking breakfast for those that were, hungry as the smell of coffee waifs around the kitchen, a pot of the bitter brew can be seen on the counter, Ssilax had already poured himself a mug the liquid can be seen oozing around in the cup. A whiff from a mug would be enough to wake someone who had been sleeping all day, if not from the brink of death itself.
Daxniss walks out of the kitchen holding a number of plates and blinks at the sight of Ssilax and Argon, muttering something under her breath, as her clothes look immaculate, she walks up to the table where Argon and Ssilax were at and sets the plates down, and takes a seat with the others.
Hearing the last bit of Argon's words she chuckles and says nothing to embarrass Ssilax any more then what he had already done from the night before, and starts in on her breakfast, Dog already can be seen sitting at the floor, begging silently for the bacon he can smell in the air.
Wrathe enters the inn, once he sees the others he joins them as well, plans to see the doctor today are on the slate, and after breakfast the group decides to go the Society again.
Returning his battered blessed spellbook back to its repository in his ancestral spirit pouch, the wizard considers the teleportation formula he had just penned into the magical tome. A solitary tear betrays the emotion such a spell conveys as it carves its way down his cheekbone. With that spell he can visit his tribe often in upper Aenghus, and though he doubts he will ever reveal the truth, since it had been hundreds of years since he was stolen from his mother's swaddling cloth, in their presence can he finally feel what it would be like to have a family.
Thoughts of such bonds reminded him of his unwilling torturer C'yne: the only other Xthian he had ever met in nearly 450 years in Hell's claws.
Age was taking its toll, and though he had progressed far beyond what he had ever expected, his death was perhaps as little as a decade away, and at the absolute most two. The secret to immortality would need to be found soon, or else his soul would be forfeit to Asmodeus, because no matter what it took, he would sell it to free C'yne and Mordsine before insanity stole his faculties and capacities.
The wizard had dedicated himself, until he was asked to leave the library, to search for answers to the question of how to free those that were held in Hell.
His fingers slowly trace the surface of his ring, the essence of the amulet that C'yne had given to him imbued in the magical item. Often he found himself talking to his friend; apologizing for being such a failure.
To say his thoughts are far away during the meeting is an understatement, as they occupy two different planes simultaneously.
Burying his scaled face in his hands, Ssilax groans.
"Well, at least I made a fool of myself in front of a bunch of strangers. For the most part, anyway," Ssilax says with a sigh, looking at his friends, eyes still mostly hidden by the hood of his robe. Taking a deep drink of the almost tar like coffee, the hot brew slowly begins to force the dragonkin into something closer to awake. Bits and pieces of the night float around in his memory. "Drunken singing and dancing, what a spectacle that must of been. I think I might be glad I do not remember," Ssilax says with a faint grin on his muzzle.
Looking down at his plate of food, Ssilax snaps his maw closed as his stomach informed eating right now was not going to end well for him. Setting the plate down for Dog with a slight groan as the blood rushes to his head, Ssilax slowly rights himself.
Looking at Argon for several long moments the dragonkin realizes that the Slayer looks differently.
"Hey, you have new clothes, looks good on you," the dragonkin nods, finishing his coffee.
Looking at the empty mug as if had just betrayed him, Ssilax refills his cup.
"I should be ready to move by the time everyone has finished eating," Ssilax says smiling faintly. While he knew that he could removed the effects of his hangover with magic, Ssilax simply chose not to. He had decided to celebrate, admitted not nearly as much as he did, so he would live with his hangover. Hopefully, the reminder of how badly his head was pounding would deter him from over indulging.
Ssilax frowns slightly, feeling like he was missing something. Wrathe was being awfully quite, more so then usual. Taking another mawful of his steaming coffee, let's the coffee work it's magic as he focuses on not looking at any light brighter than candle. Which was a bit difficult, seeing as it is daylight.
"At least this realm only has one sun," Ssilax mutters to himself.
After breakfast the group makes their way back to the Society and making their way to a small study, which Wrathe goes ahead and starts to read books, he finds there are a number of ways to get souls out away from Hell, Theft of the souls and having physical vessels ready for the souls. Bartering since souls are the source wealth in the afterlife is another way, killing the holder of the souls and claiming them as their own wealth.
Doctor Earbris informs the group that there is a gate that leads to Sigil somewhat nearby and he unfolds a map of the world, casting a few spells a line on the map that starts leading from Riddleport and leads to the nation-state of Nirmathas, in the forest close to the lake, that island of Terror.
Argon is glad to meet again with Doctor Earbris. At one point he asks the Doctor exactly what is meant by that title, as in Caern there were no or few people who claimed or used it.
Looking at the map, he tries to ignore the island's name and focuses on the way to get there. "It's almost a thousand miles away! We have some travel to prepare for, I see." He continues to study the map, hoping to memorize all places between here and the Island of Terror.
"Once there, how do we gain access to the portal to Sigil? Is it guarded, or hidden?"
The good Doctor laughs and says " Not many hold that title, in fact I think there somewhere around 50 or so, most of the time it due to the fact that we seldom get out of our laboratories, we spend a lot of our time in writing down the theories and refining our ideas. I hold the title Doctor due to all the time I've spent learning new things and applying new spells to either items, or going out to a new plane in order to find out what dwells inside of them. It is not an 'official' title, but when you have gone through as many planes as I have and lived to pen what you find inside, I feel you get that right. "
" As for hidden, no not as such, guarded; yes by what, that is where we have conflicting reports. Some say that there a creature from the hells, some say there greatest fear attacked them, as for me, I haven't had the chance to find out. I've been busy with a project as we have some rumbling going on the realm of the gods, of course our contacts there are a bit on the hard to reach side of things. "
Bartering had been Wrathe's chosen course of action, but Asmodeus had refused to even speak with him. Killing the holder of the souls was unlikely as he boasted full divinity. Theft was his only course of the three, unless he could find a way to force the Dark Prince to speak to him somehow, so he focuses his research to understand how one might steal souls from Hell's clawed grasp, and what was involved in providing physical vessels, and ways to make Asmodeus barter.
It was an odd thought, since C'yne and he had not entered Hell as disembodied souls, and had retained their corporeal bodies, as evinced by the brands burned into the flesh of their hands. His escape had been a physical one, rather than unleashing his soul upon an unsuspecting body. Perhaps Mordsine was a disembodied spirit, he knew not how to tell the difference.
In answer to Argon's words he says, "Should Ssilax be able to cast the Carry Companion spell, I will be able to teleport us there in two spells this very day should I find a pool of water to glimpse where we are going."
"I just so happen to have the spell in memory for one reason or another," the dragonkin says, reaching down to scratch Dog's ears. "Also, thanks due to Nethys, I am certain that I can Plane shift us back to Golarian to visit," Ssilax smiles. Tapping the side of his snout in thought he adds, "Of course, I will have to build a Gate or Portal between the two, as I would rather not have to go the long way home each time."
"Scrying, not so much, well, at least not at the moment," Ssilax adds with a faint grin. Taken a drink of his coffee, the dragonkin eyes some of the snacks that had been laid out.
"Are you aware if the gate needs a particular password to activate?" Ssilax asks of Doctor Earbis. "And out of curiosity, what sort of rumblings are coming from the Godly realm?"
THE good doctor claps his hands and smiles saying " Fantastic, utter fantastic! I will gather the item you need to active the gate, and get it to your by the evening, as the a reflective surface I have a crystal ball that you can use for the spell. Wrather I think I have a book you night be interested in, from what you have told me of some of your plight, and from what I guessed there is a formula you might be interested in. I think also I have another Tome that might interest you as well. "
Doctor Earbris pulls out two books from side satchel and they both start floating towards Wrathe, waiting for Wrathe to grab them from the air. He also pulls out a wrapped ball shaped bundle from the satchel as well and he says " Once are finished using it for the spell, please wrap it back up, it will teleport itself back to it's owner. "
"You have the most fantastic toys, Doctor," says Argon. "I truly thank you for your help, but I wonder why you are helping so much? Is this how things are done in this realm? If so, I'm sort of losing any desire I had to get back to Sel Torin..."
Argon is feeling safer here, but is still cautious. Still, he expects once things get rolling - the portal, the guardian, and of course Sigil itself - they will not be so easy. He recalls so clearly that day when Dainoth had been grabbed by something huge, and the magical doorway had closed upon his wrist, leaving his hand behind.
Thinking about Sel Torin, and Sanctum, the castle, the forge. Those months at his forge had been the most peaceful time of his life, since childhood, and he wished for it back. But so many suffer, now, on his home world. How could four people save a world? Was that not the task of the gods? It is a question he would pray upon.
Doctor Earbris chuckles again and says to Argon " Not all of us in Golarion are so free with things, I look at it this way, if there is a guardian at the gate, then you can assist us in taking care of the guardian. Not to mention if such a feat of setting up a portal from Sel Torin to Golarion could be benefitial, if there are people trying to save others and have no save place, then I'm sure we could house a great many people. Plus aiding you four is no great deal, it is what I want to do, you have given me days of writing and planar theories to pen. "
Doctor Earbris looks at Ssilax and says " Nothing reliable at the moment, it seems that something's prison got even tighter then before, almost as if something shifted it further away. Another being might have also located some minor form of power, it is all hard to make heads or tails of it to say the least. " Waving his hand as if clearing smoke from his face he gives a shrug.
Daxniss had many thoughts but there was little here that the doctor could answer, magic was fun that much was certain, not to mention dangerous. Daxniss was looking through books on magical theory and creation, something had been nagging at the back of her mind, as she felt a need to make something useful, whistling slightly at formulas that she finds. Pulling out some parchment and ink, she starts to copy them down, an idea or two on making a few magic baubles on the forefront of her mind.
Wrathe sits cross-legged in front of the crystal ball, pushing out all distractions and focusing on the depths of the arcane orb. In his hands is the travel journal that he was gifted, for he intended to scout out the route afterward, but first he would reach out to Master Dainoth (DC 25 will save, should Dainoth choose to resist the attempt). The wizard wished to know more of his master's current situation.
Afterward he scours their route along points where they are most likely to land.
Once he had completed his labours he would sift through the provided tomes before embracing hope too deeply.
While Wrathe begins his work with the crystal ball, which keeps tugging at his attention, Ssilax speaks with the good doctor.
"Well, in our realm, a thing none as the Ender of All appeared some 5 eons ago. It is apparantely some being from the far, far Outer Planes that consumes..., well, reality itself," Ssilax begins, launching into the tale of the half-orcs, Jaevan, the Deva, and the Thing from Beyond. The dragonkin also tells of the Lich-Lord's defeat, the artifact involved, and the Conqueror that came to Caern to become a god.
During his tale, Ssilax's appetite recovers enough for him to make a sandwich. Not that he really needed to eat thanks to the ring he wore, but after a night of very excessive drinking, it seemed a good idea.
Wrathe leans back a bit too quickly, in his haste toppling over backwards, his eyes wide and his heart hammering 'neath his ebon robes. Nothing he had ever read lended itself to what he had just experienced. Rather than failing or finding success, a mocking eye had appeared. It was unprecedented, and he was unsure what it portended. Perhaps Sigil played by different rules.
Leaning back he keeps the eye in mind, burning every detail into his memory. Was it Dainoth's orb or another's?
Gathering his breath he steadies himself anew, finds his centre, and casts his attention hundreds of miles away with the aid of the doctor's crystal ball.
Hours later he is found writing down the details he had learned, sketching the landscapes, gates, humanoid bones, other bones, and slumbering guardian.
He was confident he could safely teleport them to the portal.
Dealing with the dragon would be another matter.
Gathering the others, he relays what he has found while expertly flipping through the tome for information on how to find souls lost to the land of the living.
"This will not be wise, but I am about to scry and attempt contact with a friend held in Hell. Please watch over me and break my connection with the orb if it looks like things are going awry."
There is an obvious hopeful desperation to the way he speaks, but he is not seeking counsel or judgement, just assistance.
Wrathe held both books for a time, the one with a formula for extending his life, and the other involving locating lost souls in Hell.
The eye was not Dainoths, as it looked like a mixture of reptilian and human. Curiouser and curiouser.
He redoubles his efforts to Scry and send a number of magical Messages to C'yne. For the first time in two decades plus three he would reach out to speak to his friend.
What Wrathe had seen on his attempt to Scry on Master Dainoth
The eye had been a mixture of reptilian and human, and the voices he heard were laughing mockingly at him, the sense he got was that the spell had succeed but was redirected, the magics involved were powerful not merely limited to a nondection spell. Even with the aid of a crystal ball, it was almost like someone had placed enough protection magics to hide the seeker, be it friend or foe.
Wrathe locates his friend from hell, it looks like he is relocating a number of 'people' and then he is curses glances about a twists a ring, the picture in the crystal ball goes dark. When Wrathe goes ahead and magically sends C'yne, he gets the hurried response of " Now is not a good time. "
"Your correct, it probably is not wise. More importantly, who in Hell are you trying to contact and why? Most things in Hell are there for a reason, it is not exactly a vacation spot for paladins," Ssilax comments.
Dutifully, the dragonkins watches to make sure nothing happens. While he didn't think a portal could be open through the crystal ball, but, a number of rather nasty spells could be sent through.
"And next time, maybe tell the rest of us more than 3 seconds before you start trying to find a date from the Hells. And perhaps, just maybe, set up some actual protection, rather than your winning smile and Mage Armor." The dragonkin says dryly, as he takes a sip from his coffee.
Argon watches Wrathe with concern, hoping he's not going in above his head. He is a smart one, but can be oblivious to his obsessions at times. Argon supposes we all can be...
All this plane travel and scrying makes Argon uncomfortable, for it is beyond his training as a city guard specialist, and much of his experience. Still, he knows it is the new universe they have got themselves involved in, and it is not going to go away. Indeed, Sigil sounds like a place where it will be around every corner. He needs to study his divine magic, more.
He checks all his equipment, but thinking about things, he says to the others, "Perhaps we should go tomorrow. I don't know about all of you, but I chose my spells based on overland travel tomorrow. But we're likely to face the guardian, and I want to be ready. There are a lot more spells I can use, and I'm still sort of new to them all. I supposed I haven't paid them enough attention."
Wrathe reveals more about the dragon that is guarding the gate and the area, the fact that it is a fiendish dragon is worring but it doesn't look like it a huge one. Wrather also says little about his scry attempt into Hello just that his contact is alive.
The party decides that tomorrow will be the best time to go after the gate and the dragon, since it is a fiendish dragon fire and acid protection would be a.good first step against it.
"Agreed, we should definitely prepare ourselves much differently. I need to modify by selection of spells to be more effective," Ssilax looks at Wrathe for a moment. "I think taking a little time to discuss what we found out about the guardian would not hurt matters either," the dragonkin says, tapping the side of his snout.
"Also, I would like to spend a some time in the library," Ssilax says, looking at the ceiling starting to get lost in his thoughts. Shaking his head to clear, the dragonkin looks at the doctor. "Is there a temple to Nethys in the city? I am curious to visit a holy site upon on another Prime Plane." Ssilax adds with a faint grin on his muzzle.
Doctor Earbris shrugs and says " I'm not sure where in Riddleport a temple is, I know we have a small shrine here in the Society itself. Of course all of you are welcome to the library, I'm sure you will all find things of interest to read. "
Wrathe grimaces at what he saw in Hell, for once keeping quiet about what he saw saying that his friend is alive, but rather busy. He does say that the problem with Dainoth and trying to reach him via srcying magics might be blocked for reasons involving protection magics though it was difficult to give an accurate theory though.
Dax starts a whispered conversation with Doctor Earbris, it is difficult to hear the conversation between the two. Doctor Earbris shakes his head a few times, then nods in agreement, and chuckles saying " Alright, you are right if you take care of the Guardian then of course you are welcome to a reward. I'll get the reward to you now, since I know that you four will take care of the problem. ALL I ask is that you leave the corpse behind and let me know via a message spell. That will be the proof, I'll also give you a badge that will allow you to send me a message no matter where you go in your planar travels. "
Daxniss chuckles and says to the doctor " Think of this way, you now have more information at Sel Torin then you had before, plus I know we can take care of this and who knows what else the future will have in store. Plus we can't just use our coin as here without drawing too much attention to us. I'll be back in a little bit, I have worked out a deal where we won't have to pay for our rooms tonight. Food and drink we will have to pay for of course, I think I saw some things I wanted to purchase, I've got an idea or two about infusing magic into items. "
"We have found that sometimes corpses disappear after they are slain, depending on the nature of the creature. What if that happens?" asks Argon.
This morning he had prayed for an extra hour, and selected some different spells. He hopes they are the right ones.
"I'm ready to go. Unless you need to infuse some magic items, Dax?"
" I think tomorrow is when we will be teleporting, as for infusing magic and items, once we get more time, I need to pick up a number of scrolls for some of my ideas. After all there are a number of things I want to read to get a better idea, the last thing I want is blow myself up. "
Doctor Earbris nods, pulling out a pouch he leaves it on the table and says " I don't think it will go back to where ever it came from, I suspect that it is a being that is here permanently, it might have slept for a number of years and woke up. The reward will be 8000 in gems for each of you. Ssilax the main library is on the second floor. "
Blinking at the exchange, and looking down at the large pouch of gems, the dragonkin smiles at Doctor Earbris.
"Thank you once more doctor, the help you have given us will never be forgotten. I will have to think of an appropriate gift when I return to Golarian," Ssilax's smile grows wider.
Taking a few moments to finish his snack, the dragonkin mulls over what Wrathe had learned about the Guardian. Looking over at his friends, the dragonkin nods to his friends.
"I have a few things I want to research while I have the chance. I will met the rest of you later today at the inn. And sorry, I probably will not be singing tonight," the dragonkin says with a laugh. Ssilax would certainly not be questioning Zass about his life, mostly because he had learned enough from the half-dragon. That, and since he had to actually be functioning the next day, and drowning his internal organs in alcohol would be a bad idea.
'Unless I plan on using magic to wipe the effects from my system,' Ssilax thinks with a grin a faint shake of his head. Bidding his friends and the Doctor a good day, the dragonkin heads up to the library.
Letting the sight of the library fills his sapphire orbs, the dragonkin wanders about the room, getting a feel for it. It doesn't take him long to begin his search. His main goal was to look for any tidbits of information concerning his own people. His other goal was to see if he could learn anything about this guardian lurking near the portal. It certainly helped that Wrathe had told them it was a fiendish dragon-type.
Argon thanks Zass for the 'advance' and realizes he is now a paid monster killer. They all are. He won't be paying it back, because either he or the guardian will be dead.
He takes the money and goes out, looking for goodies to make him more effective in a fight, or out of one.
Ssilax spends many hours researching Dragonkin, finding little tidbits here and there about them, not all are insane, or go insane at all, some do. He finds a few interesting facts here and there, mostly that the ones that were originally breed by the chromatic dragons had a higher baring of being evil, but not all. Some argue that they were originally bred to be great warriors worse then the half dragons, but somewhere along the way they changed.
Those of Golarion have not been seen for a number of years, as there is the theory that they went underground to hide from others, as one book states that they just wanted to live their lives free from others. One thing is for certain; magic was involved at the start, was it from dragon magic or a dragon breeding and eggs stolen was a matter of debate.
Ssilax realizes that this section of the library in the Society might not have all the information, after all this was a 'small' library, and it would require many days to read everything that they might have here, not to mention what else the main chapter of the Society have in their treasure trove of books.
Ssilax also finds out that those of the fiendish type of dragon's have an ability to smite good once a day, and have damage resistance to good.
this is a sample of the fiendish dragon, I'm using the green dragon as my base creature fiend
and adding DR 5/good, and smite good 1/day. remove entangle from it's ability and instead of a aura of fear, it has an aura of fire, like it is always burning 3d6 fire damage 1/round. DC vs aura is 15 for half damage, reflex
Ssilax has a number of ideas that spells that he and Wrathe can use to protect themselves and the others from the acid and fire damage, so that much can be negated, this one might not have a fear aura yet, so it could be the dragon casting spells before ambushing travelers from the site, and it is Evil. Most likely it will not barter with those that are coming into it's kill zone, it also resists cold and fire as well.
Walking back to the Drunken Dragon, wrapped up in his robe and cowl, a smile played across the dragonkin's hidden features. He had found some concrete proof of his people upon this plane. That was already more than he had discovered upon his home of Sel Torin. Not that Ssilax doubted Zass's word of the two dragonkin that he had encountered in his lifetime. It simple hadn't been enough information, not even close, to satisfy Ssilax's need to locate his race.
The theories of his species genesis had been interesting, some of it echoing what little he could remember from his youth. The thought of being constructed as a living war machine didn't exactly make Ssilax jump for joy. Nor did the thought that they might have been constructed for use in a war against the metallic dragons. The thought of being used as a pawn in either sides ongoing war made his scales itch in anger.
'I wonder if they saw fit to try and exterminate us after we were no longer useful to them, or was it after they realized we where a threat to the great game the wyrms play. Perhaps we as a people realized that we would be destroyed and fled the Planes involved,' Ssilax thinks as he makes his way back to the inn. 'I wish I has some more time to research, still what I learned was a phenomenal start.'
Nodding to the bouncers as he walks into the Drunken Dragon, Ssilax unsnaps his cowl and slides back his hood. The dragonkin couldn't hide the smile crawling across his muzzle even if he had wanted to. Sending a wave Zass direction, Ssilax walks over and joins his friends for an even meal. His appetite had kicked in on the walk back, true, it was more akin to thinking he was hungry even when he was not, thanks to the magics that sustain him. Still, meat sounded like it would really hit the spot at the moment. Stopping by to greet Zass at the bar, Ssilax orders his meal and an ale and sets down with his friends.
"Good news, I learned a bit more about the challange we will be facing," Ssilax says after taking a swig from his newly acquired ale. The dragonkin fills them in on what he had learned about the fiendish dragon. "Also, I learned a few tidbits of information about my people, more than I had ever been able to find out at home," Ssilax's lip plate pull back exposing his maw of razor sharp fangs as his smile grows broader. "So, I will be celebrating a little bit tonight. Nothing like last night's "Question a Half-Dragon over drinks" event," the dragonkin hastily adds with a slight shudder. "And no singing or dancing from me tonight, sorry," Ssilax adds with a chuckle.
The dragonkin does stick to his word, eating a hearty supper and washing it down with several ales. He simply takes the time to enjoy the company of his friends, chatting and laughing with them. Eventually, Ssilax finds himself more or less watching the crowd as his mind considers different theories and possibilities. 'So many different factors to consider,' Ssilax thinks with a sigh as he takes a drink from his nearly empty mug.
Zass nods at Ssilax none of the other patrons give Ssilax a second glance, going with the thought that he is just another half dragon. Of course a number groan at the thought of another night of singing.
Daxniss can be seen sitting at the table a small stack of books sitting next to her plate, an inkpen that holds an internal ink vial of ink, can be seen scrawling around the parchment, a number of arcane symbols can be seen as it looks like she is doing power calculations into a vest.
frowning at something she sees, she shakes her head and crosses out a portion of the formula, and sighs at the sight. Shrugging her shoulders, she wipes her hands clean and waits for the ink to dry, she takes a sip from her tankard, and blinks at seeing food cooling on the plate.
Daxniss looks up at Ssilax and chuckles " I think I understand why Wrathe and you spend so much time at home flipping though tomes. I've got some ideas on how to augment our strengths and some areas where we might be weak at. "
Looking Ssilax up and down she cocks her head to the side and says " It looks like you might have found only a few answers and more questions. Bah never mind, tell me later our rooms are covered for a while and we have won't have to shell out coin for them. Dinner and drinks our still coming out of pocket of course. "
Daxniss starts to dig into her steak, looking over at Ssilax's mug she grabs the pitcher at the middle of the table and refills his tankard, and then her own.
It had been a very interesting day to say the least, the group had been contracted out by the Pathfinder Society to hunt down a monster, even if the monster was blocking their way to a gate to Sigil, it still felt odd, although right. Of course the cruelest thing in the world was a what if. What if they had been born on Golarion, never dealing with the amount of hate and trouble of Sel Torin. Things would be much different to say the least, this plane held a hint of what things could be for Sel Torin.
A chilling thought that none of the group even considered, the group might not leave Sel Torin forever, but there was options that they hadn't considered, a life on Golarion. That thought is set aside in everyone, as they realize that they are indeed a step closer to reaching Sigil and Danioth. Perhaps a version of the Pathfinder Society could be created on Sel Torin, it might require more work, but the group had a base of operations that non of the other members had before... a stronghold/city, where their ideas on how things should be could flourish instead of be mired by others.
Argon goes to find a weaponsmith who makes fine weapons. Being one himself, he can tell quickly how skilled any smith is, and he passes several establishments before he finds one he is satisfied with, and is selling what he would like to buy. He talks with the smith, trying to find out about any temples of Ptah around, so he can go and pay homage. When the smith asks about his own forge, Argon just says, "It's very far from here."
He feels at home at the weaponsmith's, and spends too much time there, realizing the smith had to get back to work. It's a long day at the forge, and there is much to do, so Argon buys the weapon he likes and can afford, and moves on.
He makes a stop at the temple of Ptah, says a prayer and donates a good portion of the little cash he has left. Magic weapons are expensive.
He arrives back at the inn in time for a hearty dinner with his family.
To Ssilax he says, "Good to learn about your family. I suppose I should do that someday, too. I wonder if Almas has a gate to this place - it might explain a few things."
Finally, he asks about the guardian, and what they had learned so far.
Pulled from his thoughts by Argon, Ssilax looks over at the Slayer, blinking a few times. A faint ghost of a smile lights his muzzle for a moment.
"Thank you, but, aside from those sitting at the table and one other that we are heading to find, my biological family is nothing more than dust. My race, however, may still exist, which is better news then I ever found back home," the dragonkin falls silent as his sapphire orbs watch the crowd. "I believed for most of my life that I was the last of my kind, something that was never far from my thoughts. A simple glance at a crowded street or bazaar was a constant reminder. It probably played a large part in the spells of depression I would fall into while growing up," the dragonkin says thinking about the bleak moods he used to fall into for days, if not weeks at a time.
"Considering Almas, it might take some work, but I think Wrathe and myself should be able to find a way around its shielded nature. Scrying and then teleporting in might work, but your homeland might be protected around those styles of magic, which would require some more powerful magics." Ssilax taps the side of his snout as he thinks over the newest puzzle. "We should ask Storm, once we get back that is. There might be a druidic circle in your homeland that she might know about. It so, we should be able to use the druidic teleportation circle to send us straight there. Mind you, that is a lot of theory without any solid facts, so this is complete speculation on my part," Ssilax says with a slightly embarrassed looking grin.
Thanking Dax for refilling his mug, the dragonkin takes a pull from it, and sighs contently.
"It is probably a good thing that we have already invested so much time and effort into Sanctuary. Otherwise, I am not sure I would want to return home," Ssilax says with a chuckle. "Although, I would have to work pretty hard to convince Storm to move, as well as a few others I care a great deal for in Caern," the dragonkin says with a grin twisting the along the Black side of the Mask of Nethys.
Ssilax goes over what he knows about the fiendish dragon that blocks there path to Sigil. It is a corrupted green, having and active aura of fire rather than an aura of fear. It possesses the ability to smite good beings and is resisted to damage, much the same way as devils are. He admits while they have encounter a few more dangerous beings in their travels, this was not a creature to dismiss out of hand.
"One of the major differences is that we will be the only foe for it to focus all of its attention on. There was a hell of a lot going during the war for Caern, something that probably factored into survival more than we would care to think about," Ssilax takes another drink, thinking about that monumental day. "We will be able to negate or at least massively reduce the amount of damage it can deal with its innate elemental magics, as well as magics it will have in addition. Just be aware dragons are one of the most powerful beings in a Prime plane, we are probably going to be smacked around and it is going to hurt. A lot. Hopefully, it will not be big enough to swallow anyone whole, that would be a really bad day at that point." Ssilax grins slightly.
Ssilax continues after finishing off the last bit of his meal, going over fly by tactics it might use, and various methods green dragons tend to fight. He admits that the corrupted nature of the dragon may use different tactics for battling them, but he doesn't believe that it will be able to summon extraplaner help as some devils, deamons, and demons where known to do.
Plans are made to fight a dragon that is also a fiend, spells will be chosen for the next few days. Ssilax, Wrathe, and Dax all agree that protection spells should be cast before teleporting in, if they wish to try and get the drop on the fiendish dragon.
Of course that plan would require to scry the area again and hope that the dragon will be nearby, and the fact that if it has the ability to sense such magics.
"So the dragon will breath fire too, or is it just its aura? If not, what will it breathe?" Argon wants to learn as much as possible about this beast. He knows spells that can provide them some measure of protection, but they will have to take it down quickly.
He sits back and takes a long draught of ale. He tells Ssilax of the priestly spells he is planning to choose, so they can coordinate (feel free to browse my character sheet).
"I do not think it will breathe fire, greens breathe an acidic gas cloud. Which I am hoping is not flammable, now that I think about it," the dragonkin says, musing over that possibility over a swig of ale. Listening to the spells that Argon was thinking about, Ssilax adds his thoughts.
"Protections, powerful creature summons, anything that would pierce it's magical protections and impede its movement. Wrathe would be able to confirm this, but I believe there is a druidic spell that can bind a large flying creatures wings. That is definitely an line of thought to investigate a little further," Ssilax frowns slightly. "And have some healing magics available in case things go badly."
"I have some protections I will cast before we make our second teleport, ones that will last over an hour Given that I am reasonably certain it can detect magical scrying, I think we should avoid another round of heavy observation, that might tip it to knowing an attack is coming." Looking over at Wrathe, Ssilax grins and nods to his friend. "I am more than confident that Wrathe will be able to get us there with no issue," the dragonkin salutes his friend with his ale mug.
Thinking over the corrupted dragon once more, Ssilax taps his snout in thought.
"I also do not think it will be hiding within the forest itself, as it seems to be more of an appointed guardian. Plus if it cannot control its fire aura, there would not be much in the way of trees near its lair," the dragonkin muses outloud.
"I have some clerical magics that should be able to punch through the dragons magical defenses. These should help to divert some of the attention off of you Argon. My goal is to keep its attention diverted so it cannot focus on anyone of us," Ssilax says with a nod.
" I cast haste on all of us, I have a feeling the ability to move quickly will be useful, then I'll start to attack and use magic depending on what is going on. " Daxniss says while tapping her fingers on the tap, trying to think of other possible problems they could encounter while fighting the dragon.
Plans have been hatched, and a possible plan of attack has been chosen, the rest of the night is spent considering the future, or at least what tomorrow might bring. Dinner is consumed, some drinks are had by all in the party and turn in for the evening, which was already taken care of, no coins are spent for rooms this evening.
Morning has dawns on all of you, last minute supplies were purchased the night before and any other supplies can be purchased before the teleportation action happens.
Argon had told the others that he also had an energy protection spell prepared. He also planned a quick summoning, to help with the fighting.
He awakes somewhat nervous - fighting a great magical creature is always dangerous.
He tries to eat a light meal and get plenty of liquid. He checks his equipment carefully, especially his weapons, but everything else too. After the dragon, they'll be going to Sigil, hopefully, and who knows what challenges they'll face there.
He thanks Zass for all his help. After all, they might never see him again.
He looks out the window at the streets of Riddleport, fingering his Djed-Ankh-Was. It is not his home, but he has come to like the city in the few days here.
He thinks of all the souls in Sanctum; they had been through so much, but were on the road to recovery. They have to ensure that is not lost, that Caern or somewhere else does not come and destroy what they have built. That the people remain free, and good. They will need trade and a trade route, access to ships. The Umbral Lands make those things difficult, so it would be best if something could be done about them. He doesn't know what, though.
He wonders what Sigil is like. He smiles, now, at the irony that each place they go teaches them more about their home. What will they learn about Saevia in Sigil?
Waking a bit earlier than normal, and telling himself it had nothing to do with being nervous about today. The dragonkin scratches Dog's ears as lounges in his bed for a while. 'A corrupted dragon and planer travel, what's there to worry about?' Ssilax thinks to himself with a snort of amusement before getting up to start his day. A faint smile cuts across his muzzle as he starts moving about.
Double checking his gear for about the third time, Ssilax goes over the spells he had prepared for the day. Before falling asleep the previous night, the dragonkin can had send a very short message to Storm, letting the druid know that they where alive and well. The spell gave him a bit of piece of mind. If events.., go poorly for them, Ssilax didn't want the elf to be left wondering what had happen to him and the others.
Heading downstairs, Ssilax looks forward to a good breakfast, not to mention some strong coffee. Smiling at the sight of Zass and the others, Ssilax walks over and greets them as he sits down. Ever polite, the dragonkin thanks Zass once more for all of the aid the half-dragon had given to the group of plane-tossed friends.
Everyone spends a few moments in quiet reflection over what they had learned in the few days, then they get ready for war... so to speak, this was could be a difficult encounter, not their last though. That fact they could feel in their very souls, as they armed themselves both physically and magically as well, and the group makes promises to themselves that they will return to Golarion when they can. After all there was a sense of hope that the realm gave them, that things could be changed in the future.
Zass blinks when Dax pecks him on the check, you could almost see the half-dragon look a mixture of being pleased and embarrassed at action, he hands Ssilax a mug of coffee and feeds the group their breakfast. Waving away offers of coin stating that the next time the group makes it to Riddleport that they would owe him one,
Breakfast is a slightly somber affair, as each member of the party will remember the freedom that they held while away from Sel Torin, the chance to walk openly and without fear of being judged for who they were. In Caern they had more freedoms then the average person, the fact that all of them could read and write was hidden from many. Also the fact that they could use their arcane magic in the open without worrying about being killed on the spot was another joy.
Argon saw many different trades and tricks about smiting that he didn't know, but many others that were the same, as no matter what metal crafting was the same no matter where you came from. Their might be some differences here and there, but no matter what they all dealt with ore and refining ingots into the shape that the wielder wanted.
Ssilax, Wrathe, and Daxninss could walk about with little worry about what they could do, and each would plot what they could do to bring a facet of the Pathfinder Society to Sel Torin. Still the future was not set in stone, and there could be ways to help shape their corner of the world into something different.
Wrathe spends time scouting out the locating again, seeing the dragon eating wildlife, sitting with it's back turned from the sensor, of Wrathe's spell. Once Ssilax castes the spell the group will teleport hopefully behind the dragon, knowing that the dragon will be able to sense them right away.
Daxniss informs the others that she will cast stone skin on everyone, saving her haste spell for right before they teleport, to help maximize everyone's abilities while in a fight, she will also cast fly on herself and Argon as well since the two of them will be working on being up in it's face flanking as quickly as they are able too.
"Alright, everyone all set and ready to do this? Yeah, me neither," Ssilax says with a hearty laugh. "I am joking, let us engage in our final round of spells, and then Wrathe can teleport us in."