The world is full of heroes. Heroes arise from cities, from the frontier, from the Underdark, from different planes, from different dimensions. And these heroes throw themselves against the myriad, endless threats of the multiverse, for there are many. Wizard-kings are defeated, goblin armies are halted, efreeti warlords are cast down. And yet for every hero who defeats a villain, another villain and another hero rise. None in this cycle are immortal, and sometimes, a threat rises which is too much for a mere mortal hero to face. Sometimes things arise which threaten the balance and construction of the very multiverse itself.
Sometimes, you need gods.
But these gods don't just come from nothing. They start as something lesser, once. And over time, their immortal sparks are forged and shaped by their travails into something beyond mortal ken and power.
This is a story of five such divinities.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
A small yawn escaped from Ulliaza's lips as she slipped the broach into her cloak, fastening it tight. Shifting over to the nearby mirror, she looked herself over before quickly setting to work with some makeup. After a few minutes of powder and a couple of false contacts, she grinned at the unknown elf that stared back at her. Flipping her hood up and doing one last check to make sure she has everything, she slipped on out of the inn room.
Quickly making her way down to the busy inn room, she stoped by the bar. Pulling a couple silvers from her belt, she slid them over to him. "Send a pitcher of wine over to my table." Not waiting for an answer, the saint in disguise made her way over a table off in the corner. A meal might have been in order, but it was impossible to tell when this particular contact would show. A bowl of stew would just get in the way if he did come in at the wrong moment. Hopefully he had found out if the rumors of House Rasivrein making deals with the local nobles was true, Dalaston was a long way from home...
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
"Everything seems to be in order." Maika said as she flipped through the documents that the wizard had given her. She had people to do most of this work - there were far too many magic sellers to visit each of them personally - but she liked to do at least some of it herself as a reminder to all of them that someone had a very deep, very personal interest in their pricing schemes and that if they claimed to be a member of her organization, they had darn well abide by its rules. A faint whirring could be heard as the technology in her 'eyes' flicked her vision back and forth.
The Wizard - a fairly young human, capable of third-level spells at best - swallowed slightly and nodded.
"Congratulations on your new business, Guildsman. As always, if you need to contact the Guild for any matter, you may direct such inquiries to the nearest Bank of Abadar-" Some people still called them churches, but anyone who knew better was aware of their primary activity, "-and they will be addressed as expeditiously as possible. Be sure to hang up the license in a public place where visitors can read it."
"Of course, of course!" the Wizard said, nodding. "And thank you so much for that Limited Wish - now that I've seen such magic with my own eyes, I know it really is possible for me to do that myself one day."
At that, Maika smiled slightly. "That is the principle of our Guild - magic given to those who pay for it, without fear or favor. Members are certainly no exception. Good day." she reached across the table to shake his hand, then stepped out of his small shop, looking forward to what it might someday become.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Calxakti woke, though it would be wrong to pass off the endlessly restless nights full of tossing, turning, and uncountable nightmares as true sleep.
He stood up from the woven mat he slept on and dressed himself in the worn and threadbare robes he had worn every day since Aroden's death. A more sane individual might wonder how his clothes managed to hang on for that long, but Calxakti is far from sane.
He stepped out onto the wide platform at the head of the step pyramid at the center of his crumbling temple complex. Further down the ceremonial thoroughfare he saw several ritual braziers burning, likely lit by the dozen or so worshippers that inhabited the complex.
He was not sure what the day would hold. Perhaps it would hold nothing. Or perhaps, as a long-dead prophecy suggested, the gibbous moons of Ullunballun would rise above Munga and the gods would cavort. Calxakti was content to simply sit at the top of the long staircase and watch the sun rise and his faithful go about their days.
"Prophet...aid us...come...Taldor"
This was different. It was not one of the many voices that ranted the broken prophecies and mad whims toward him. No, it was one of his faithful, one of the new followers across the great ocean.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Uliaza sits in The Day's End, the largest inn in the town of Dalastan, drinking wine, waiting for a man that she knows. It's a peaceful and quiet afternoon, the only strange thing being that an elven traveler is day-drinking an entire bottle of wine, but travelers are prone to strange behavior at times.
Suddenly, the entire inn shifts and rocks, as if there is an earthquake. A great, dreadful roar comes through the timbers of the inn from outside, and then a sound like the rushing of wind filled with boulders. Uliaza hears people screaming from outside as well.
Maika steps out of the magic shop that she's just finished certifying. The air here in this seaside town is very fresh, and outside of the building the cries of seagulls are everpresent. The streets are very busy, and it's clear to see the kind of prosperity that's giving new people the opportunity to open magic item shops. Every business is booming, a side-effect of the trade that this town is able to conduct by sea with its neighbors after the recent defeat of the Shackles pirates' Storm King.
Maika checks her schedule. She had only given herself a few jobs this time, because she obviously has important things to get back to, but she still has one on today's agenda: A Bank of Abadar in a town called Dalaston recently went through a personnel shift large enough that recertification is required. There is an attached map: the town is smack-dab in central Taldor, southeast of the Verduran Forest.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Full staff shuffles are quite rare - he usually likes personnel there to be stable, especially so customers can develop a sense of trust. Maika thought as she reviewed the schedule. She set out a moment later, though, her mechanical limbs all but tireless in environments like these. She still had enough time to get there on foot; it wasn't so far away that teleportation was necessary to get things done in a timely manner, but she did plan to help them with the certification process before the end of the day - an important tenet of her Guild was to avoid keeping people waiting for an unreasonable amount of time. Trust was key in every transaction.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Uliaza sighs and takes a sip of her tankard, ignoring the occasional look she's getting. She got the pitcher for the contact and the wait, she wasn't an alcoholic. Even if Gurny argued that she was, considering how many times she had gotten completely wasted on celestial wine...
The sudden shaking and noise snaps her out of the internal argument, the pitcher spilling onto its side. She flings the tankard away and leaps up. Underneath all the makeup, a pallor comes over her face as she realizes the only thing that could make such a noise. Rushing towards the door to get outside, one thought crosses her mind. This day probably can't get any worse.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Alithea woke up in her temple in Absalom, it had been some time since she'd returned to look over her followers. It seems word had spread since she set out on her last adventure, she noticed several new worshipers at the service when she arrived yesterday, though she teleported directly into her room.
It was an exhausting trip, more difficult than she expected. She had just returned from a month long outing to the River Kingdoms. Day after day spent in small towns seeking out petty tyrants in the making, those who would use lies to start their followings. Though rooting out deception required travel across not only the Cage, but all the planes, Alithea made a habit of passing through the River Kingdoms, as it was a breeding ground for those who would use deception to rule.
Exiting her room well rested, Alithea traveled to Bookworm's office. Her high priest was both one of the few things that tied her to her old life, but also, one of her few direct ties to regular people anymore. She greeted Bookworm, and after exchanging pleasantries, the two sat down to share the events of their past month. Alithea spoke of her triumphs in the River Kingdoms, though she also shared ideas on how she could have performed better. Bookworm shared news of the success of his evangelism and all the new members brought to the faith, but reflected on ways he failed to give the best advice to some devotees seeking guidance.
Reflecting on her guidance, Alithea made her way out of Bookworm's office to minister to the rest of her fledgling clergy before devotees would begin to show up later in the day.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Adol absently turned the pages of his chronicle.
It held a wealth of information on an equal number of topics, ranging from drawings of maps, locations and notable items to creatures of interest, often how to best fight these if encountered in life and death situations. It also contained a fair bit of information on the many cultures he’d visited in passing, along with their religions. All of this, he’d gathered himself through painstaking journeys and research.
All of it was completely useless to him now.
Nothing it contained gave any advice on how to actually lead a people.
“What is your decision, Thurok?”
“I am not a Thurok, Koria,” he replied automatically. If there had been a single line he’d been forced to say over and over recently…
“You are Thurok of Arl by right of blood. The clansmen of the plateau owe you their loyalty, whether they accept our diety or not.”
“All I did was kill a tyrant who was also sought for his crimes on Golarion. Your people give me too much gratitude.”
“That does not make his blood any less spilt, nor does it change how much better we are for it. In you, the clansmen see reason to continue the old ways.”
Right... the old ways…
Adol glanced from the balcony of the palace. It offered a magnificent view over the plateau the city of Arl was built on, which held a strange mix of primitive constructions and remnants of Azlanti architecture.
From the palace, a single grand road of solid marmble led to an inert portal. He knew it connected to Golarion, and that an incredibly dangerous maze lay on the other side of it. While Adol suspected it was the Azlanti that had installed this custom of demanding worship from the local people long ago, everyone able to get here through that thing now had to be strong enough to reinforce the local beliefs: that the Akitoneans were somehow inferior to the average Golarian, and that those had to be worshipped by them.
Like they were worshipping him too, something he’d only been partly able to avoid by having them worship his god, Estivas, instead. Even now, the road to the portal was split by people prostrating themselves towards the palace and back towards the portal. They’d have to cover both bases, after all, just in case someone else walked through.
He shook his head. “This city would probably be better off if the Thurok was someone from Akiton itself. Arl belongs to its own people.”
The woman in front of him nodded sagely, smiling, as if incredibly pleased by receiving some grand wisdom he’d just imparted her. “As you say… Prophet.”
Prophet.
That was the other title they’d given him.
Well, Estivas would probably be pleased by their progress. There was now a gigantic stone statue of him along the marble road, in the image Adol though best described him: a huge barrel, with an arm reaching out of the top, holding a Falcata menacingly towards some invisible threat. That was all, but it was all it needed to be - a magnificent piece of art, the first of its kind.
He’d have liked to add more details, but even he himself didn’t know much about Estivas’ true identity, or if he was even really male. For a benevolent warrior god, he was uncommonly mysterious. All he had to go on were Iomedae’s cryptic words to him about Estivas being the secret of the universe, and that there were very specific ways in which to worship him . From that, Adol had constructed what he thought Estivas’ view on the world was as a benevolent god, and so far this ‘code’ hadn’t let him astray. The people were taking to those well enough, and actual worship of his patron Diety was gradually progressing. They’d taken to it better than the vast majority of Golarion.
Still, if only Estivas would deem it fit to talk to his ‘prophet’ once, that would be great… especially concerning important matters. But this was probably another test, to see if he was worthy of spreading his word. He had to be self-reliant and rely on his own wits. Estivas couldn’t be the secret of the universe if he was easy to figure out. And these people had given him their trust, so it was his duty to do it as well as he could. Hadn’t Iomedae been a steward herself once, too?
Fine.
“Prophet?”
“They’ll do,” he decided, gesturing towards the barrel protypes that had been brought before him. As far as he could tell, the craftsmanship was solid, and they’d need a lot of those for worshipping purposes. He’d considered testing them out himself, but there were more important issues to work through, as there always were. Sometimes he missed the simpler days, like investigating the Hao-Jin tapestry to hunt for ancient dragons.
“Now… what was that about that important matter? Are any of our patrols reporting losses? Is it the northern tribes again? Death worms leaving their burrows? Eldritch monstrosities from the south pole finding their way too far inland? Or…” he leaned forward eagerly, “Has your brother achieved success in opening the behir breeding pen?”
Good night everyone!
Uliaza heads out of the tavern and onto the street, which is just one small piece of a scene of total chaos. Flying above the city streets is an immense red dragon, more than forty feet long and blazing with rage and power. As Uliaza watches, the dragon exhales black-tinged fire over an entire city block to the north, igniting several buildings. People run along the streets away from the dragon, streaming by Uliaza in two screaming lines. A watchtower with a ballista mounted on top of it fires a bolt at the dragon, but it merely bounces off of the creature's impenetrable scales. The dragon turns, incensed, and flies at the watchtower, crossing an incredible distance with a mere single flap of its wings. It collides head-first with the watchtower and sends rubble and stonework flying into the streets, destroying the thing totally in a single swoop.
One of Alithea's acolytes approaches her, head slightly bowed with apprehension and awe. "Excuse me, my lady," she says. "But there has been an event on the Globe of Detection."
The Globe of Detection is a magical item that Alithea's burgeoning temple is built around, partially. It allows for a user to detect particularly powerful outbreaks of magic across the globe so that members of Alithea's religion can pursue and stop any particularly dangerous uses of magic. The acolyte, a young woman whose family died in an experiment involving the curing of virulent magical diseases, leads Alithea to the Globe, a two-meter diameter globe with a map of Golarion on it. There is a flare of magic just north of where Alithea is now, on the Isle of Kortos. The flare comes from central Taldor, and glows with a color that Alithea now recognizes as being consistent with hemotheurgy - blood magic. "What is it, my lady?" asks the acolyte.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Calxakti ponders the request for a moment before he gets up and hobbles down the stairs. As his worshipphers convene he says, "You all remember Adelvard, the man who came from across the Great Blue, which the Thrice-Riven wings of Ulban were to sunder? I believe he, or some of his companions, are in mortal danger. I must answer their prayer. You all, who persist even in the end of what was to be, can persist without my guidance. I trust you will take care of the temple. Azulman the Damned did not sunder it upon the zenith of Mur, and I am sure it will stand longer."
With that, he ascended the stairs once more and entered his small room. He lifts his staff and feels magic warp around him and the sinking feeling that marks the shift into the Plane of Shadow. Shadow Arcadia never failed to astound him. The inverted ziggurats, flagellant couatls, and most importantly, the shadowy longships of the pain-raiders of Dark Valenhall that plied the coasts of southern Arcadia.
Convincing the bare-skulled and sinister captain to take him to Shadow Absalom with a tirade of prophecies and the promise of forbidden lore, Calxakti was off.
After arriving in that dark metropolis and shifting from there to the material counterpart of Absalom, he still had the journey to Taldor ahead of him. He decided he would rest for a night, make his way to the worshipper in the morning.
Alithea follows her acolyte to the Globe, and sees the area to the north light up. Alithea points to the signature and asks the young acolyte, “What do you see in these readings?” She hoped to instruct the girl so that she could better understand the Globe in the future and better understand types of magic.
Hemotheurgy isn’t inherently used for nefarious means, though Alithea still frowns on the practice. The thought of distorting your body so terribly in the pursuit of further magical power is miserable for Alithea. “It’s hemotheurgy, blood magic. It distorts the user’s body to seek more power, it’s a practice rarely used in a well-considered manner. This will definitely warrant investigation.”
Absalom was chosen more for its central location than any particular devotion to Alithea, though the city certain had its perks. As the home of the Pathfinder Society, there was no shortage of excellent maps at Alithea’s disposal in the city. She first drops in on her favorite cartographer, located within a ten minute walk of her temple, and asks to see a recent map of Taldor, slipping the cartographer a few gold to acquire a print of the map, and quickly makes her way back.
Overlaying the map on top of Taldor, she locates the disturbance on the map, and begins to study the area with great attention to detail. Once she is satisfied with the map, Alithea goes to her room to gather some of her gear, casting prestidigitation to clean what remained from her last trip off her gear and clothes. Lamenting her inability to relax for even a day, heaves sigh in the privacy of her room where none of her followers can hear, and then casts Teleport to travel to a location near the disturbance.
Of these spells, Alithea only casts Unseen Servant, Heightened Awareness, and Overland Flight before teleporting.
0th—9
Prestidigitation
Light
Mage Hand
Read Magic
Grasp
Mending
Message
Scoop
Scrivener’s Chant
1st—5
Heightened Awareness
Ray of Enfeeblement
Unseen Servant
Expeditious Retreat
Liberating Command
2nd—5
Raven’s Flight
Fox’s Cunning
False Life
Greater Detect Magic
Resist Energy
3rd—4
Dispel Magic
Haste
Heroism
Fly
4th—4
Globe of Invulnerability, Lesser
Emergency Force Sphere
Enervation
Bestow Curse
5th—3
Overland Flight
Grand Destiny
Teleport
6th—2
Chains of Light
Disintegrate
7th—1
Waves of Exhaustion
Two Figures stroll out of the forest into the muddy streets of a town Rirsa had yet to identify- the architecture was ao much different from Chevain - and yet she knows she would see even more exotic locales before she was done... She turned to face the figure behind her and spoke to her in Celestial.
"Are you certain can find people in this plane" Rirsa; a brown haired girl of seventeen; asked her companion- a lady with golden blonde hair and sapphire eyes.
"Of course ; Mistress... It is where you are needed; is it not?"
"The sound is getting more insistent; almost desperate... It is akin to trying to hear a whisper in a windstorm." She shakes off the mud on her dark green cloak; she steps toward a nearby inn; Familiar footsteps follow behind her. "Please drop the mistress title; we're still family cousin- no matter my title."
Once inside; she walks confidently towards the bar and lays down a bag of fifty gold; "Hi; I'd like a room for a few days, I'm new around here - could you tell me about this place?"
Ulliaza feels her jaw drop, slightly awestruck by the sheer carnage and mayhem before her. Then she is moving, hands rapidly performing gestures and lips forming the words required for her to take off the ground in flight. Cloak flapping behind her, she skims above the crowd streaming the opposite direction. She heads straight for the burning buildings, taking her shortsword out from its place at her side. Dragon comes later, first, help the people to safety.
That is... more smoke than I was expecting. Frowning slightly, Maika began to run towards the town, keeping an eye towards the sky as she saw the massive beast circling. She wasn't too worried about most threats, but... elder dragons were something else entirely. People were going to need help, and the sooner she got there, the better.
Uliaza leaps to action, flying into burning buildings to rescue the people within. While she finds many charred corpses who were hit directly by the dragon's deadly weapon, she also bashes down many doors to find cowering people, covering their mouths against the smoke. One by one, she scoops them out and floats out of the buildings to safety before going back in. By the time she's rescued everyone that she can see, the dragon has long since stopped attacking.
Alithea appears on a nearby hillside, Dalaston stretching out before her. Dalaston is a medium-sized town known for its blacksmiths, fed by the nearby mines of Maheto. As such, it has a large dwarven population. Walled in by a sturdy stone wall, the city boasts several noble manors, and a walled castle at the center. The center of worship here is a temple of Abadar.
There is also a massive scar across the northern part of town, with many burning buildings. Flying high above, shrieking its victory and dominance, is the red dragon. After a few moments, it vanishes from sight.
Maika runs towards the city when she sees the dragon and the smoke, swiftly reaching the gate of the city. Standing on the other side of the gate are four soldiers - three dwarven and one human - wearing simple chainmail and carrying maces. They are cowering up against the city wall. Also standing but not cowering behind the wall is another strange figure, a pale young woman with blind-white eyes and cold skin. She carries a huge scythe effortlessly.
She does not seem in the least afraid, and when Maika gets closer to the walls she steps towards the merchant's path. "Transit is not permitted out of the city," she warns. "But you may enter." Her voice is strange and dry.
Undead can see in the dark, and are immune to many of the things which plague the living - poison, diseases, mind-affecting abilities, death effects, bleed, paralysis, stunning, sleep, and more.
You're familiar with this specific kind of undead, but only on a basic level: They are known as bloodless vessels. They are created in a special type of ritual involving draining all of the blood from a young subject, and then allowing myriad spirits to take over the body. They are powerful, be careful.
Calxakti attracts looks as he searches the city of Absalom for a place to rest. Despite the city's varied population, it was rare that people came to the city looking so... humble. Still, to most, Calxakti is just another crazy homeless person. He wanders into the first inn that he passes by and the innkeeper (a middle-aged bald man with a slight double chin and an ale-belly, a carefully-waxed mustache and a leather apron) wrinkles his nose at Calxakti. "Ah, yes. Can I help you?" he says, somewhat hesitantly.
Rirsa is still a short walking distance from the city walls (they are within sight) but she enters a roadside inn all the same. Some people like to stay someplace more open! When her request is only half out of her mouth, it stalls in her throat. The place is totally empty! A thin layer of dust says that it's been a couple of days since anyone was here. All of the glasses have been cleaned and put away, and the tables are all clear. The candles on the tables have been changed out for fresh ones. It seems as though whoever left was planning to leave, at least.
"None of those things, my Prophet," says Koria matter-of-factly. While the Prophet's unusual tastes were alarming to some ("invite the behirs into the city? Madness!", cried some) Koria knew that in time, everyone would come to realize, just as she had, that Adol's desires only would result in the best outcomes for the people of Akiton. Behir breeding pens included.
"One of our people has gone to Golarion." she says quickly. "Our diviners have found out about another evil artifact surfacing, just as you told us to look out for. Unfortunately, before we were able to deliver the report to you, one of our people used his magic to go and try to take care of it himself. In the name of Estivas, of course." she sighs. "And his mother is worried about him. Perhaps you could go, my Prophet?"
"This artifact... divinations unreliable at best, but we have received visions. We have seen cities destroyed, we have seen the heat of a forge, and we have seen a river of souls, stopped by a dam made of purple, glowing stone. We have seen a place - our divinations showed us a city: Dalaston."
"All of you, calm down." Maika said as she passed the guards. "The creature looks to be leaving, so you are safe enough for now." Mortals often responded best when spoken to with authority during times of trouble. With that, she gave one look to the undead guard, then strode into town to start looking for the injured. She didn't expect to miss much - her powerful artificial eyes were capable of distinguishing great detail.
”Barman, I am thirsty. The Thirteen Rivers of Kabal’kan have dried and its people turned to the Ixba, with only the Seven Champions to redeem them. Indeed, I am tired as well. The days have worn on me, and I have more days to go before I reach my destination.” He rummages through his pockets. He was certain he had a few coins somewhere. Laying them on the counter he says, ”An...acquaintance awaits me in Taldor, in urgent need of my assistance. Would you know the best way to get there? The waters of Zalban buffet the ships, and the shores of Far Dangi seem they will never come.”
A small sigh of relief passes her lips as she sets down the last of the survivors. She puts her hands on her back and stretches, grimacing as a couple different popping sounds are heard. Should have been more careful with that dwarf, who knows someone so short could weigh so much? Surveying the wounded around her, another sigh escaped her lips.
Dozens dead, more injured, and even more left homeless by that blast. The beast responsible, up and left. Hopefully, they all had some family locally to take care of them, but there wasn't much to be done at the moment. Flipping her hood down to disable its magic and let her aura shine through, she starts doing the only thing she can do in this situation. Go to those who need some support, and offer an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on.
Maika enters the city without trouble, and the soldiers stand a little straighter when they see her stride fearlessly into the street. As she approaches people to see whether they are wounded (most are not, only with minor cuts and scrapes or bruises from being hit with stonework) a bell sounds from closer to the center of the city. It rings continuously, and people move towards the castle at the center of the town at its summons. The people who were direct victims of the dragon attack don't generally bother, but Uliaza can see some families sending one able-bodied member of the family into the city with calls of, 'just see what he says'.
Never taking his eyes from Calxakti, the bartender fills a wooden barrel-shaped mug with ale from a tap and slides it across to the Arcadian mystic. He seems to regard Calxakti with a long stare, trying to decide if trying to speak to him might even be worth it. Then he sighs and says, "There's a passenger line that goes to all the major cities on the Inner Sea. Could get off at Cassomir or Oppara."
"You don't look moneyed, but finding someone to teleport you, here in Absalom, is easy as pie."
Alithea rushes into town, simply flying over any guards below. She was glad the dragon chose to leave, as she was not keen on fighting a dragon that large on her own, it would prove to be a very difficult foe.
Once in town, she seeks out the burning buildings, and casts Resist Energy (Fire) on herself as she approaches her targets. She rushes down into the buildings below to help evacuate anyone trapped.
Alithea prioritizes helping those who are still conscious make their escape, then makes her way back into the damaged buildings to pull out those that are unconscious.
Rirsa's hand glides along the dusty table; Strange- she takes her hand off and looks at the dust Just out of season; perhaps? What do you think; Carie? She listens for her response as she steps outside to look around the inn property. Her boots leave muddy footprints as she does so; I should have wiped away the mud before stepping indoors she whispers an incantation and begins to remove the muddy spots Her ears straining past the sounds of her and Carie's movement trying to listen around the walls.
Calxakti takes a swig of the ale, the large mug seeming almost comical in the small man’s wrinkled hand. He smiles and says, ”Like the barley fields of Ulthos were to be under the light of the three suns. I believe I shall find someone to teleport me to my destination. See if my old bones can handle it.” With that, he finishes his drink and hobbles out of the inn.
He feels another prayer, Prophet...aid us...Dalaston burns.
He wanders about Absalom, asking about anyone who might be able to teleport him to Dalaston. With the information likely secured and a mage negotiated with, Calxakti readies himself for what might await him in Dalaston.
A brief frown of childlike disappointment dissipates instantly as Adol hears these tidings. He frowns and turns, already underway to his equipment. “His mother is worried, you say. It must be serious.”
“Well… yes. That, and the threat of something capable of razing entire cities, if not more. Omens regarding a river of souls are never a good sign. One could interpret this as an oncoming massive loss of life.”
He nodded. “I agree. That also sounds bad, to say the least.”
He thought about what it could mean. Many cultures had references to a river of souls, usually from ancient Thassilonean influences. Ruin, or the threat of ruin, was also a very common theme among them. As things stood, this simply wasn’t enough to go on. Prophecy and divinations were not meant for him – he preferred the old fashioned direct confrontation, finding and disabling entities who could ever make these kinds of doom prophecies a reality.
In that regard, he felt sympathy for the youth who’d gone off to do exactly that. It seemed like he was unlucky and had ran into something beyond him. And if one of his worshippers was in trouble, he would go. He had to prove to his people that Estivas truly protected his faithful.
It was also what any decent person would do.
Donning his armor was a quick affair, something he’d gotten used to over the past few years of being an active pathfinder. Like himself, it carried its fair share of battle damage. Yet the metal was still strong, glistening in the candlelight with mithral’s usual sparkle, as if proud of its accomplishments.
The same couldn’t be said for the ethereal ribbons of light that sprouted from the back. They still allowed him to fly, but ever since the trial…
No. No time to regret the past.
“I hope you can re-open dialogue with the northern tribes while I’m away.” He said, finishing collecting his gear. “I don’t believe our differences have to come to bloodshed. I am not like my predecessor, and I also never wanted the title. Imagine what we could achieve if we could stop fighting amongst ourselves for once.”
“I will try, prophet,” she answered, obviously not enjoying the prospect. “It would be much quicker to simply challenge their leaders to duels and-,” she paused . “No, you are right. Some part of me also still thinks like the past.”
“But you are adapting, and that is what matters. I know you will handle everything well while I am gone.”
She nodded, then reached for her staff. “Wait, before you go, my prophet, take these blessings. It's dangerous to go alone. Maybe these will protect you against the things we saw in our visions.”
As always, Adol let the comforting light envelop him, ignoring the strange tingle he felt whenever she casted her spells. “Give my regards to your brother and mate,” he said when she finished.
Not waiting for a response, he jumped off the balcony and flew towards the gate. He knew some of the worshippers on the ground had seen him fly and pointed to him as he went. It felt a bit wrong to pass them by like this, but lives were at stake.
The moment he was through, he hesitated. The maze stretched before him, different in shape as it always was. Thoughts surfaced on how this was an effective backdoor into Golarion. Into Galt. The revolutionary committee didn’t know it existed. If he could rally the tribes of the moon under one banner then maybe…
Maybe. That was a possible future, this was the definite now.
He glanced through his chronicle for a map of Taldor and found Dalaston. It was not a village he was intimately familiar with, but been near a few times while travelling through the country for Society work. There had never been a shortage of that with the nobility constantly conspiring to keep the princes from rising to power. He feared that one of these days, a Taldan civil war was inevitable, if it wasn’t ongoing already. Truth be told, he had been out of touch with the events on Golarion these last few months.
Well… it should be enough to go on. At the very least, he should know enough about the area to realize if he arrived off-target. He would try using the minor blessing of Estivas first. If that failed, he could call on the larger one, and it virtually wouldn’t cost him any time.
Frowning slightly, Maika followed the crowd, curious to see what they were all focused on. She didn't understand the situation here - yet - but doubtless they'd start answering things soon enough. And if the town needed magic to repair the city, well, she had an awful lot of that. They were probably going to need a Lyre of Building at this rate, though...
But a dragon attack where casualties seem minimal? Curious...
Warding herself against the heat with spells, Alithea flies into the burning building and begins to help people. While she arrived too late to stop the dragon, she is able to help a couple of families' worth of people, who regard her with awe-struck, grateful eyes as she lays the last person down safely on the pavement.
It doesn't seem there's anything suspicious at all around the tavern. There are certainly no people hiding around the corner, inside any cabinets, or anywhere nearby the tavern. However, a fell shriek is carried on the wind from the nearby town...
Maika follows along with the people going towards the bell. The streams of people reach the center of the town, where a handful of doctors and a few clerics of Shelyn and Sarenrae (conspicuously, not Abadaran) are helping to stabilize and heal people who have burns or broken bones. Now that she's reached the center of town, it's clear to see that there are, in fact, casualties. Still, only a single small area of the town was razed before the dragon elected to return to wherever it came from.
Standing in the town square are a small collection of figures. At the center of the group is a corpulent man wearing finery and jewellery and a broach identifying him as the town governor. Eavesdropped whispers name him as Count Serano.
Standing beside him are a pair of guardsmen, a middle-aged woman who could only be identified as his wife, and a pale-skinned but handsome young man also wearing noble's finery who Maika can't place.
They appear to be gathering everyone for some sort of address, and one of the guardsmen can be seen as the person responsible for ringing the bell.
Adol's swift transportation brings him quickly to the edge of the town of Dalaston. As expected, the city appears to be in peril. Even from his position on a high hill overlooking the town, he can see a great scar caused by some fire-belching monster that seems to have destroyed an entire district of the town. Despite this, no refugees appear to be fleeing the scene. Clearly, there is something foul at hand!
Glancing over at the bell she shakes her head, starting to make her way over in that direction. Why in the world they only started ringing the bell now, she had no clue. They should have gotten everyone inside the safety of the castle as soon as the attack started... Actually, that was probably a bad idea. Just give it one big target to roast.
Glancing around the crowd, her eyes were naturally drawn to the shiny metal woman that was Maika. Her eyes widened as her natural ability to detect magic kicked in. Pretty potent aura... Slipping through the crowd to stand next to her, she offers a small tired smile and waves a hand off at the castle. "What do you think he's gonna say? The usual 'don't panic, we have this under control'? Or the much rarer 'You've all gotta fend for yourselves, I'm out of here'?"
As Maika passed through the area where the worst of the injured were, she pulled out a glimmering holy symbol from beneath her robes.
With a brief pulse, healing energy washed over the crowd. Some of her guildmates were a bit surprised to learn she offered channeled energy for free - but such power wasn't spellcasting and was therefore outside her purview. Besides, a little healing could be a great investment, and the guild's rules weren't strict enough to forbid those.
She glanced towards the other figure a moment later. A... dark lone elf, was it? Elves in general were fairly rare on the surface of most worlds, though she'd seen a few in Hyraeatan. (But then, she'd seen most races in Hyraeatan. As a planar nexus, it had visitors from all over, and it was rare for any race to make up more than five percent of a single district. Humans were no exception.) "In my experience, those who plan to flee do so right away." she noted. "Do you happen to know who they are?"
"No clue, I'm pretty sure it's whatever mayor or noble runs this town. I was just passing through myself when the beast attacked. Did my fair share of helping out, though what I really want is to take a stab at the monster." She gestures to the ash and soot still present on her face, glancing towards the spot where she pulled the holy symbol from. Definitely a powerful magic item... Who in the world is this?
With only a momentary pause; Rirsa whispers a few words of arcane power and bursts toward the town with all haste; Dust beginning to trail behind her.
Once Alithea had finished rescuing a few families, she saw those who were safe making their way to the center of town. Though Alithea had already done her part and rescued those in imminent danger, perhaps the town knew more about this dragon. It could not hurt to learn more, or perhaps even offer guidance.
Alithea followed those making their way to the gathering in the center of town. The Garundi woman with glowing eyes was certainly not one of the locals, but she made no effort to draw attention to herself, either. As she arrived she noticed the corpulent man on stage. The man's physique called out her concerns about hemotheurgy. She immediately studied the man with her Arcane Sight to see if he was indeed the source of the magic she came here to find.
The man who Alithea studies has no spellcasting ability and no aura.
Rirsa and Carrie dash off towards the city walls, moving twice as fast as any human typically can. They make it by the time the haste spell runs out, slowing down just as they come close to the wall.
Smoke rises over the sides of the city walls from some unknown point in the north of the city, and the city gate is open and guarded by five figures. Four normal guardsmen - one dwarven and three human - and one pale young girl of around fifteen years old. She wears a light white shift and effortlessly carries a scythe in her hands. At the sight of her, Carrie hisses a quick inward breath, but waits for Rirsa's reaction first.
The young woman turns to Rirsa and Carrie as they approach. "Transit is not permitted outside of the city," she says. "Though you may enter."
With a bit of haranguing and some doomsaying and a bit of prophesy-hinting, Calxakti manages to convince a wizard of the Pathfinder Society to lend a teleport to the old man. With a touch, the young wizard sends Calxakti hurting towards the town of Dalaston, where he arrives adjacent to... an odd young man.
Calxakti arrives next to Adol, who has also just teleported in. Adol has a very distinctive and strange appearance, with spectral, ribbony wings emerging from his back and a crown made out of monster teeth adorning his head.
Calxakti looks Adol up and down and says, ”Has the prophecy come true? Has the beastlord of Dulhuth come from his dark bower? Or no, was it the winged son of Ulbuan shattering the diamond worm of Muur? I know there was...something about you.”
He looks about the town and says once more to Adol, ”I would take it you are not here simply to visit?”
Maika considered the elf for a few moments, thoughtfully. Then... "Well, I sell a variety of magic spells to those who desire them. If you seek assistance, I believe I can provide it at a fair price. I particularly recommend defenses to stop the beast's breath and magical powers."
"I think I'll stick with just... not being seen by it, if that's alright with you. I haven't got money to be throwing around 'willy nilly' as they say." She laughs a small bit, glancing around the area before spotting Alithea. Putting her hands above her head, she starts waving and jumping to get her attention. "Alithea, come over here! It's Uliaza!"
Adol immediately turns towards the elder man who appeared just behind him, then makes a retching sound, doubling over.
” Ki Estivas, anha tikh avvos get used tat rek. Ale times me works ale chek akka ksem anna feel allayafi Golarion itse squeezed anna vi ato ki Aram Zey’s alembics, arrek force anna tat drink mae sille vile concoction she eshna nakho. Vo akka jin runecave ki sloth ki jin mel. Urgh."
He then blinks and composes himself, continuing in common. “Ah, my apologies, friend. I’ve grown too used to the tongue of the moon. I am indeed not-“ he notices Calxakti’s appearance. “- …here on a casual visit. And I… well… am afraid I know nothing about Muur or a beastlord, though I have been told something about the city over there, a river of souls and a forge. Speaking of which, the situation looks bad and the people need help. I must be off! I would advise you to seek shelter elsewhere.”
He is about to leave, then hesitates and quickly pulls three gold coins from his purse. “Here, take these, so you can buy a decent new set of clothes and a roof over your head for a few weeks. Antios’ Crown is a day’s walk south. I would escort you there, but this is an emergency I have to deal with first. You should be able to… wait, how did you get here, exactly? Am I correct in assuming you are blind and here by yourself?“
Rirsa nods slightly as a sign of respect.Thank you; I will be heading towards that smokeShe gestures towards rising smoke -that cannot be good. Rirsa steps around the guards heading towards the North District; once out of earshot of the guards sheakes a point to walk adjacent to her cousin on the (I'm assuming cobblestone) streets Was something wrong with the young girl; dear cousin?
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Calxakti laughs heartily, a rich baritone that seems remarkably unsuited to the small man it comes from, ”Young man, you are the second person I have talked to since I came through the Realm of Shadow from Arcadia to mistake me for a vagrant. The innkeeper in Absalom was entirely less kind about it. Though I find your generosity worthy of the coming of Umbi the Giver, I am not the promised King of Beggars. Rather, I believe I am here on matters of an entirely greater sort. Matters I believe we share.”
He is quiet for a moment, lost in thought before saying, ”I am well aware that I am blind. Just as the mind is not the only way of knowing, so too are the eyes not the only way of seeing.”
Alithea was surprised to hear the call of her name, scanning the crowd for Ulliaza, seeing a jumping elf instead. As she approaches the disguised drow, she notices the woman with mechanical arms and notices her strong magical auras, taking a moment to study her as she approached through the crowd. Though Ulliaza hid her aura, Maika's aura shone bright.
"You've come topside?" Alithea asks with her brow raised, knowing that Ulliaza primarily operated in the Darklands. The question was part greeting, part genuine inquiry. She then turned to Maika, curious about the powerful caster beside Ulliaza. "I think I've already been somewhat introduced, I am Alithea."
She offers a grin and nods, waving a hand off in the direction of the inn she was stating in. "I was meeting a contact, heard some rumours about one of the noble houses making dealings in this area. Wound up in the middle of something far more destructive, eh?" She looks over at Maika and gestures from her to Alithea, and back.
"Alithea, this is Whatsherface, Whatsherface, this is Alithea. Whatsherface offered to sell me magic, so I'm assuming she's a fairly powerful spellcaster." Reaching up to her hood, she let's it drop and shakes her hair free. It disables the cloaks enchantment, letting it shine through. "What brings you to Dalaston? Caught whiff of whatever that monster was breathing?"
Carrie and Rirsa head into the town, following the crowd of people towards the smoke. Carrie shakes her head, letting a growl die down in her throat. "Just... an instinct, I suppose," she mutters. "It's nothing."
Once everyone is (mostly) gathered, the corpulent mayor of the town begins to speak.
"Eldran has informed me that one of the virgins he was promised was no virgin and that someone has deceived him! Therefore, additional sacrifices will be required. The dragon's wrath was called down by your failures, but, never fear! I have a plan! With the aid of my new advisor, we will save our town from the dread Horranath, and all will be well again. Please, return to your homes. Because of the importance of getting all of the preparations done immediately, I am now enforcing a curfew for all Dalaston city residents. We will be visiting your homes to collect the necessary sacrifices."
"Please, go, after you have received the aid of a cleric or a doctor. We have much work to do, cleaning up the city." At that, he and the five people with him turn and head out, going back into the castle at the center of the town.
"Maika." Whatsherface said, introducing herself. "I was on my way here for business, myself, but it appears things have become... exciting." the worryingly wide mayor began speaking a moment later.
She tilted her head slightly, and the tiny gears in her eyes whirred to let her vision focus on each of those standing nearby. Sacrifices, was it? Not something she was terribly keen on when it came to people, especially because it was usually a terrible investment, but she did think each location had the right to decide its own laws and procedures. It was very important to respect free will... although that wasn't going to stop her from offering magic to those with the means to purchase it. She was not a member of a goodly faith, keen on charity in all circumstances - but she was willing to be flexible about payments.
Calxakti laughs heartily, a rich baritone that seems remarkably unsuited to the small man it comes from, ”Young man, you are the second person I have talked to since I came through the Realm of Shadow from Arcadia to mistake me for a vagrant. The innkeeper in Absalom was entirely less kind about it. Though I find your generosity worthy of the coming of Umbi the Giver, I am not the promised King of Beggars. Rather, I believe I am here on matters of an entirely greater sort. Matters I believe we share.”
He is quiet for a moment, lost in thought before saying, ”I am well aware that I am blind. Just as the mind is not the only way of knowing, so too are the eyes not the only way of seeing.”
At the mention of Calxakti’s origin, Adol’s demeanor changes instantly.
“You hail from Arcadia!? Truly!?” he cries, brigdes the distance between them faster than should be possible and grabbed Calclaxi by the shoulders. “Please, tell me all about it! I always wanted to go there but never had a chance to see if all the rumors were true since even Estivas couldn’t bridge the entire ocean for me and-“
He paused. “Oh… right, we have an emergency,” he continued, disappointed, gazing back to the city. “I, or we if what you say is true, should probably be going there now - people might need us. I take it you can use your… 'other' senses to not trip over the debris on the way? There seems to be a lot of it. Can you fight if necessary? My name is Adol, by the way. Adol Cristin."
”I can handle myself, young man. Do not worry for my sake. I’ve persisted since Aroden died, a few rocks on the ground won’t kill me. By Xibalba, I was even prophesied to die at the hand of Tlicalhua the Seven-Armed and he ended up being eaten alive by Camazotz. I’ll tell you a bit about my home on the way over to the town.”
As they set off Calxakti says, ”I nearly forgot. I am Calxakti, though some know me as the Sightless Prophet.”
Along the way to the center of town Calxakti describes parts of Arcadia to Adol, ”I come from Razatlan, a nation to the south. It is alright, if you like structure and stability, the peace of mind that a firm society brings. There’s Valenhall and the Avistani colonies, of course. Valenhall is great fun, if you like to drink and carouse. The others are rather dry and stodgy for my taste. The Grinding Coast and the Land of Northern Lakes are rather odd. Full of strange, arcane technology, in the case of the Grinding Coast and skymetals galore near the Northern Lakes.”
Seeing that Maika was uninterested in further discussion, Alithea instead turns to Ulliaza, "It was the presence of powerful blood magic that drew me here. It's usually dangerous, though I don't suspect that dragon had anything to do with it." Eyeing Ulliaza's disguise, she added, "Why cover up your true self? It is a problem for them, not your own how they react to you." The mayor then began his address
Having listened to the mayor, Alithea is displeased. The thought of village leaders sacrificing their peasants was unpleasant, though she admits to herself these villagers have no hope of standing up to a dragon of that size. Though she'd hoped to rest more before setting out again, she was now confident that this dragon was a problem for her to solve, and she was curious how blood magic tied into it.
”I can handle myself, young man. Do not worry for my sake. I’ve persisted since Aroden died, a few rocks on the ground won’t kill me. By Xibalba, I was even prophesied to die at the hand of Tlicalhua the Seven-Armed and he ended up being eaten alive by Camazotz. I’ll tell you a bit about my home on the way over to the town.”
As they set off Calxakti says, ”I nearly forgot. I am Calxakti, though some know me as the Sightless Prophet.”
Along the way to the center of town Calxakti describes parts of Arcadia to Adol, ”I come from Razatlan, a nation to the south. It is alright, if you like structure and stability, the peace of mind that a firm society brings. There’s Valenhall and the Avistani colonies, of course. Valenhall is great fun, if you like to drink and carouse. The others are rather dry and stodgy for my taste. The Grinding Coast and the Land of Northern Lakes are rather odd. Full of strange, arcane technology, in the case of the Grinding Coast and skymetals galore near the Northern Lakes.”
Adol listens intently and pulls out a large book stuffed with notes, in which he jots down everything word for word. Then, he seems to realize something and slowly looks up. "Apologies, but you are... a prophet? A prophet of what, or who, exactly?"
He frowns, momentarily lost in thought. "But if you are a prophet... That is what they call me too. Is your manner of speaking a requirement for that position? Is that how to be a proper one? You seem much more... 'verbally gifted' than I, and I would like to hold up to the standard the good people of Akiton deserve. Do you think I could learn such grandiose mannerisms given a hundred years? Or perhaps... can you give me some advice? The task was trust upon me and I do not have much in the ways of examples."
If you don't wish to tell me; than I accept your decision to to do so.
Virgin sacrifices? How long has this been going on? I should put a stop to it.
That's not good... She sighs and looks around- if people are going around fixing stuff; she'll assist using Mending... If not she hangs in the back of the crowd and see who remains behind.
"Blood magic huh? Sounds nasty, and though it may be a coincidence, it seems really convenient..." She offers a small shrug, waving a hand at herself. "It's less about dealing with people and more being noticed. A drow pops up, people talk, and suddenly anyone I might be looking into goes underground. It's easier to get close this way." She shuts up as the Governor starts talking.
A small growl grows in her throat, squinting at him as he leaves. "That cowardly son of a... Not even gonna attempt another solution, just gonna lay down and give in to the beasts demands?" She throws her hands up in disgust, before turning on a heel to look at Alithea, hand on her hip. "We're totally going to kick that dragon's teeth in, right?"