A World Apart (Inactive)

Game Master mdt

Well, I figured that an alchemist probably has enough intelligence to know Common, but maybe a goblin wouldn't bother with speaking it.

Tolla raises an eyebrow at the little goblin. Aside from an apparent aversion to pronouns, his sentences seem very coherent. Even grammatically correct. He must be pretty smart, Tolla thinks. For a goblin. "Experiment, huh? Are you some kind of goblin genius? I've never heard a goblin speak proper Common before, either."

"Don't know..." he cocks his head and grins at her. "What do you think?"

He's also got enough Intelligence to figure that most of you won't speak Goblin.

grim still waiting on the side smiles during the exchange between the woman and the goblin

Palomia awoke with a start.

Had it been a dream? Trekking through the snowy pass, the rumble that turned into a roar. She remembered looking up.

But if it had all been a dream, then why had she awoken to find herself in this strange, impossible landscape where mists swirled all around?

All seemed quiet. Deathly quiet.

"Am I dead? Is this what lies beyond?"

She slowly got to her feet and looked around, attempting to get her bearings and gauge the situation. She shivered slightly.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

As she surveyed the area, she suddenly realized that Relas was not by her side.

"What happens to beings like Relas when the ones who call them die? Do they die as well? I suppose I'll find out."

She began her summoning ritual.

Palomia is unable to draw on any magic. She feels no energy there at all to be pulled on.

"I think that whatever you just said, it better not have been anything you would regret saying to me in a language I can understand," Tolla replies to the goblin's strange tongues. She frowned. It made her nervous to talk to a goblin--usually by the time she had been in a goblin's presence this long, the goblin was either fleeing or dead. Thinking about her goblin encounters, she absently mutters, "I wonder if my horse survived, too..." She looks around for the horse that, last time she had seen it, was full of mercenaries' arrows.

Pay it no mind, hue-maan. It can speak to Orcs and some other useless herd creature, so it thinks itself clever. It it was half as good at mixing potions as it thinks it is, both he and me would not be here now. Eh, goblin?

Goragg spits in the general direction of Goghurt. There. Mix me up some poison I can shove down your throat later, willya? He chuckles to himself at his own cleverness.

"Damn!"

Palomia heaved a deep sigh. It looked as if she was on her own. Trying to ignore the uneasiness she felt at Relas' absence, she started walking.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

She wracked her brains, trying to remember if she'd ever heard any tales of a place such as this.

Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

Palomia, you may assume you are within line of sight of the group who are talking (including a human woman, hobgoblin, gnome, tiefling, and goblin). However, even though they are only about 30 feet away, she can see their lips moving, but no sounds can be heard. They seem to be hearing each other though.

Goghurt chuckles at Goragg's insults, revealing rows of jagged, unkempt teeth (although they are surprisingly keeping away from rot. Apparently Goghurt has enough sense to care for his teeth at least that much).

Turning to face Goragg, he says, "If hobgoblin were half as tough as he thinks he is, he would not be here with foolish Goghurt."

Goragg laughs in spite of himself.

Gah! This forced peacefulness is bothersome. Let us get on with it so I can throttle the useless little Chok'mash'to and go on to my death with honor.

"Is something wrong with my hearing? It's like I'm underwater or something."

Palomia approaches the group slowly and cautiously.

"I don't like this, but there doesn't seem to be much choice. Maybe I can still outrun them if things go badly.."

Palomia tries to put on her friendliest face.

"Um, hello? Hi! Sorry to interrupt, but I don't suppose any of you happen to know where we are, do you?"

"Nope! Not a clue! It's fun, isn't it?"

Tolla turns to the approaching woman. "Thank goodness, another human!" she says, standing up and walking over to offer a handshake with a smile. "Like the gnome says, no one really knows where 'here' is, but I think we all died. There's a voice that explains everything every half an hour. It's kind of annoying, actually, but I guess it's useful."

Abbas shudders awake.

White, not rocks.

Dust, no caves.

The warrior stands and looks around. It seems unnaturally quiet.

Sword. Armor. Bow.

Abbas rubs his temples. His bag had fallen away in the struggle...apparently so had his arrows...

Abbas furrows his brows and looks around working the kinks from his large frame

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Abbas is laying on a landing on a set of stairs. The ceiling is about 200 ft above him... and there's a small group of people including a centaur and a Lamia and what looks a trio of human triplets all standing on the ceiling, talking in an animated manner.

He hears nothing but his own breathing.

Up the stairs they reverse direction, continuing up to the centaur and humans and lamia. Down the stairs, there's a landing about 40 by 40 with hour glasses and a group containing two humans, a hobgoblin, a goblin, a tiefling, and a gnome. They appear to be talking, but Abbas can't hear what they are saying.

Abbas considers above and below and furrows his brow.

Afterlife? A strange thing...i'm not sure i'm ready to consider taking stairs to the cieling...

The warrior nods to himself and moves to go down, hoping to reach the group he sees below.

Gniel moves to the hourglasses to study them.

Taking 20 to search around the hourglasses and the room for any potentially important details. Total 28.

Rutheric awoke slowly, his head still spinning.

I'm not hungry.

I...have water?

And indeed he did - it appeared that the water in his head had been replaced.

Ugh...

He got up slowly and took a look around. Appeared to certainly not be the cave he was left for dead in...

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

Gniel sees that the hourglasses are not attached or seated, they are part of the marble, as if the marble itself transmogrified into glass. There are also no seams.

On the floor, Gniel finds that the floor is divided up into a grid. The grid at it's smallest size is 1 inch square. Within that 1 inch square is a circular pattern. 3 inches on a side repeat the patter writ larger. 9 inches on a side repeat the pattern again larger. Gniel can't see enough to tell, but it looks as if the pattern is such that it keeps repeating itself no matter how 'large' the squares become that are picked. No matter where one stands on the floor, one is at the center of the pattern somehow.

Rutheric finds the floor is white like marble, and the air is delightfully moist, if not warm. The mists feel comforting, and his aches and pains are soothed by them.

Rutheric finds himself on a 3 ft by 3 ft platform that surrounded on all sides by empty space. Other than a small 1 ft wide marble bridge that leads towards a larger platform that has a bunch of strange people on it. Humans, hobgoblin, gnome, goblin, tiefling...

He hear's only his own voice and breath. But the group appears to be talking.

Before this "two humans" thing gets out of hand, I would like to point out that Palomia is actually an aasimar. I don't know how obvious it is (can't really tell from the profile description), but Tolla is assuming she's human. Because Tolla is a little, as you have seen, human-centric.

With the mists and escher logic, my assumption is that based on her appearance she looks human unless someone is looking closely. Also, non-humans are less likely to notice the difference than humans. Our resident Tiefling is likely to know she's Aasimar (given their shared outsider nature), but your average Goblin or Hobgoblin or Suli is not going to know the difference. By the same token, until the Suli uses his abilities, he's going to likely look human to everyone. The oread, of course, looks like a granite statue. :)

"THANK YOU, FELLOW BEINGS, FOR ASSISTING ME. YOUR ASSISTANCE IS MANDATORY. IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE, YOU WILL HAVE A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE. EACH OF YOU WERE ABOUT TO DIE, AND WERE CHOSEN BECAUSE OF YOUR SKILLS, BECAUSE OF YOUR GENETIC MAKEUP, OR VIA RANDOM CHANCE. YOUR SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE WILL BEGIN IN THREE AND ONE HALF HOURS. THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT EVERY HALF HOUR. SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO TURN DOWN THIS SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE, THROW YOURSELF FROM ANY EDGE, AND YOUR DEATH WILL BE COMPLETED. THANK YOU AGAIN."

This sound fills every nook and cranny. The voice is very neutrally toned, and it repeats itself in over 50 languages before it goes silent again.

As Abbas makes his way down the stairs, his aches and pains continue to slide away, from his legs first, and more slowly from his upper body.

As he approaches the disparate group, he begins to hear their voices. Extremely thin and thready at first, as if listening through a wall with tiny holes in it. But as he comes within 20 feet of the group, their voices begin to carry almost normally, even those standing 10 feet farther away. It's almost as if as long as he is within 20 feet of someone, he can hear that person, and anyone with 20 ft of that person, and anyone within 20 ft of them, and so on.

SOrry Abbas, missed your post earlier with the ninja'ing. :)

Palomia is a bit startled by the taller woman's sudden offering of a smile and a handshake but she's thankful that at least two of this strange group seem to be friendly, or at least not unfriendly. She accepts the handshake and tries her best to keep smiling. As she opens her mouth to speak, a strange message sounds from nowhere and everywhere, making her flinch slightly. It seems to be the message that the tall woman was speaking of.

"So we all died, and wound up here - wherever "here" is." She looks at the gnome. "I'm not sure if you were being serious or joking but either way, 'fun' is probably one of the LAST words I'd use to describe our situation."

She looks around at the rest of the group before turning back to the tall woman. "I'm Palomia."

Goragg doesn't bother to get up.

I am Goragg, and I am in charge here. The way he says it, even he doesn't seem to believe it any more, but he feels the need to assert it anyway just in case.

"Oh but it is. One moment I'm jiggling the wires of the flux resistor of the Thingamabob Mark 3, the next I am waking up here. Well there was that burny part in the middle...but this is all new and exciting! Look at the things around you! Imagine what magics were necessary to bring us here and bring us back to life! Just he designs on the floor are fascinating! This is an exciting development!"

He looks positively delighted.

I actually didn't realize that I hadn't really given Palo any Aasimar-type physical features until the "two humans" thing came up. Whoops. I can retcon her appearance and give her a slightly more distinctive look or we can hand-wave it that she just has a slightly different aura or air about her than most humans. Whatever works :)

I'd suggest going with something that's not obvious unless she's doing something. She's Emberkin, perhaps glowing red eyes when she's in combat or angry?

That sounds good to me. She's not exactly thrilled to be Emberkin, so something slightly more discreet fits her character better than crazy metallic skin or a halo would or anything like that would.

Grim still smiling from the conversation between the goblinoid will turn his head toward the assimar Died? technically not we haven't yet nor did. About to die yes. It appears that as each of was was about to cross over to the other side we got snatched away to this place. Now i have no idea where "this" he waves is arm around is, but all i know is that this booming voice repeats its message and that currently our bodies are being regenerated as we just wait for the time to elapse, and those that can't deal with all of "this" he makes the same open arm gesture can just jump off this platform and finish their trip to the other side. As i said the difference is tiny but we were never technically dead

he then folds his arms under

Goghurt sighs. More big folk.
"And supposes that you folk will tell Goghurt that is too weak and small to be useful, and that Goghurt is at fault for all of troubles, and that Goghurt should just go away, also?" he says, somewhat irritably, at the several newcomers.

Grim will look at the goblin and reply in Draconic No not really Goghurt, you are not at fault for All the troubles. Yours and his nodding toward the hobgoblin possibly, but certainly not mine. And weakness or being small is just a matter of perspective. I once meet a halfling that eventually made a rather strong beast rider. And you can't really go away from this platform, you know what happens when one does.

Just for future, when speaking anything other than common, please spoiler it to make it easier for people to figure out that it's in a different language.

Cale Pavel POV
Cracks form from the ground, jagged edges reveal more rock or crystals as an arm comes out.....

"Ahhh!!!! Hold!!! Heel!!! Arghhhh!!! Not the turnips!!! The Ra--what?"

He stops screaming. Ermm...Shouting. A warrior true does not scream. They bluster, roar or well huff...never scream..yep not at all.

The last he remembered was the stampede and trying to stop it in his sleeping attire. Not a good idea in hindsight now that he taught about it....Ex-Gladiator or not. A nightcap in one hand and flask of brandy were not suitable for that situation. Looking around, he realises that it's dull.

Was the afterlife really that boring? Rocks and stairs? Nothing? No like some guide from the dead or something? How did those farmhands greet oh yeah like this........

"Howdy?"

GM looks at the oread in his night clothes, and wonders where his equipment was, since it wasn't on him or next to him to snag and bring along... GM looks confused

Well hello indeed, don't mind the great booming voice that will shouts stuff in less than 30 minutes says grim to the newcomer

Cale Pavel POV
Cale looks confused.

"What? Voice?"

Looking at the one in front of him abd his tail. Cale stands up, joints creaking and feeling the phantom pain but he's perfectly hale and hearty. Then he notices a problem.

"Hey! How come you got gear and I don't? Is this the afterlife? Did you die the way you were?"

I woke up with no clothes? Well done to myself...Time to scournge up some.

Grim laughing looks up in the sky and yell Hot Dam i feel just like you right now. Grim then looks at the newcomer and

Died? technically not we haven't yet nor did. About to die yes. It appears that as each of was was about to cross over to the other side we got snatched away to this place. Now i have no idea where "this" is, but all i know is that this booming voice repeats its message and that currently our bodies are being regenerated as we just wait for the time to elapse, and those that can't deal with all of "this" can just jump off this platform and finish their trip to the other side. As i said the difference is tiny but we were never technically dead

he looks at the sky again.

Your Turn now Booming voice !

and then folds his arms again, tail twitching.

Cale Pavel POV

"Who are you shouting at?"

A brief pause follows as Cale considers this, his greatest weapon beside his head, the hard part that is. His mind. Taking a deep breath, he sums attempts to sum it to his understanding,
"What you are telling me is that we are somewhere inbetween life and death, plucked from our journey to listen to some unknown disembodied voice speak to us a repeating message. If we can't figure out what this voice wants or can't wait. We just jump? his voice rises in amusement for a moment. Our bodies are regenerating while we wait otherwise until the hourglass of the invisble kind ticks away?"

Lets see if I can do this well. Grim puts his hands into a cone and tries to imitate the VOICE THANK YOU, FELLOW BEINGS, FOR ASSISTING ME. YOUR ASSISTANCE IS MANDATORY. IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE, YOU WILL HAVE A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE. EACH OF YOU WERE ABOUT TO DIE, AND WERE CHOSEN BECAUSE OF YOUR SKILLS, BECAUSE OF YOUR GENETIC MAKEUP, OR VIA RANDOM CHANCE. YOUR SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE WILL BEGIN IN THREE AND ONE HALF HOURS. THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT EVERY HALF HOUR. SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO TURN DOWN THIS SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE, THROW YOURSELF FROM ANY EDGE, AND YOUR DEATH WILL BE COMPLETED. THANK YOU AGAIN

he then looks to the newcomer. There have fun with that. I have been "here" already for 1h and 30 minutes"

Cale Pavel POV

"Excellent. I see that someone has a sense of humor. Do or die eh?"

Shaking his head in grim amusement and dusting himself, the Oread now looking like a walking mini mountain turns to this new neighbour.

"It seems that I have need of your experience then seeing that you have being here for much longer than me. I am Cale Pavel, farmer of the extraordinaire‎. What's yours?"

I am called Grim the Wanderer

Cale Pavel POV

Cale nods his head towards this man.
"Hail and well met. Grim. Are there any others? Maybe we should seek them out?"

...dead? I was...chosen? Hm. I don't understand this at all...

He took stock of his equipment. Still had the things he was buried with - excellent. But this floor...it felt unnatural to him. It did not speak to him like the forest once did. The air, however, felt remarkable similar...

Hm...all sorts of humanoids over there. Might as well try to find out what's going on...

Ruth picked himself up, taking care to not spill his water, and walked over, using his trident as a walking stick of sorts.

Hello. I am Rutheric. It appears we are dead. Who are you?

Hello Rutheric and it appears we are not dead. he turns to Cale

How do you seek something while you are on a small platform? see everyone that is coming to "here" can see everyone else.

its someone else turn to do the voice or it. i did my turn.

Cale Pavel POV

Cale Shrugs. Turning to Grim
"I'll do it."

Facing Rutheric, in his night gown Cale intones, holding out his arms in his impression of this supposed VOICE.

" THANK YOU, FELLOW BEINGS, FOR ASSISTING ME. YOUR ASSISTANCE IS MANDATORY. IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE, YOU WILL HAVE A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE. EACH OF YOU WERE ABOUT TO DIE, AND WERE CHOSEN BECAUSE OF YOUR SKILLS, BECAUSE OF YOUR GENETIC MAKEUP, OR VIA RANDOM CHANCE. YOUR SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE WILL BEGIN IN THREE AND ONE HALF HOURS. THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT EVERY HALF HOUR. SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO TURN DOWN THIS SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE, THROW YOURSELF FROM ANY EDGE, AND YOUR DEATH WILL BE COMPLETED. THANK YOU AGAIN"

After he has finished, Cale looks at the possibility amused Rutheric.
"That's supposed to be this voice that'll greet you. I haven't heard it but he has." Pointing to Grim.

"I'm Cale Pavel and he's Grim the Wanderer."

Noticing that Rutheric also has his equipment. Cale cannot help but remark in a deadpan voice.
"Gee, you don't supposed that the VOICE can arrange to for my equipment to drop in or something? I mean one's sleeping attire may be as impressive as mine but I don't see how useful I'll be for this supposed aid."

Abbas descends the stairs and pauses asthe voice intones its neutral greeting.

Not dead...assistance? Well let's see if anyone else has a notion.

As the Suli descends the voices are vague, then tinny, then thready and continue to form and shape until they sound like "voices".

The gnome seems excited, the goblin sullen...What is the other creature? Goblinlike....I do not know that... Some humans were there and there was...

Abbas furrows his brows as the creature with the tail A demon? The creature with the shell A giant turtle? and the oread That creature I know, elemental touched not unlike me... all seem to be yelling back the phrase intoned but a few minutes before.

Abbas descends onto the platform and stands near the group of creatures that are talking and yelling. He cocks his head and simply asks, What are you doing?

Edit: Abbas is armed and armored but he and everything he is carrying is covered in dust and marred by rocks. His breastplate is surely dented and his clothes surely worn/torn. He stands about 6'10 and probably close to 260-20 lbs.

Goragg responds to the scarred and battered farmer, Yeah, good luck with that. While you're at it, ask for the dust motes to be assembled back into the sword it took from me. Goragg stands up and shouts up into the mist,

GET ON WITH IT! COME AND TAKE US, OR LET US GO!

He stares aimlessly into the mist and mutters to himself, ...or maybe we're waiting for a floating octopus and a sparkly vampire to complete the minstrel show.