"I said create. It will take a bit of time. I will start presently. Meridian, I will need to see your wayfinder to examine and duplicate the effects."
"Aren't you clever? Ok, but I'll need to stay close or it'll discorporeate. "
I am very clever. The little dragon said without a trace of humor or irony. It is my sole redeeming quality.
"Aw, I wouldn't say that, you're very artistic as well!" Illia- seemed sympathetic.
Anaxian tilted his head to the side in what, for him, was a surprising expression of bewilderment. For a moment he actually seemed at a loss for words.
Thank you.
Anaxian moved to his larger counterpart and carefully plucked away a fist-sized scale. Deep purple light that danced like firelight without the flame erupted around his claw. A touch of the strange light grew a new scale in place of the one he'd just removed.
Anaxian's larger counterpart pulled the skin of his chest and abdomen aside like theatre curtains revealing a hollow cavity made of bone and steel, lined with velvet. A small perch was built into the spine. The back side of the ribcage was a workspace for the kitten-sized pseudodragon, who climbed inside and hooked his wing-claws into the back side of the upper ribs for stability. He was already clamping the scale to the workspace when the larger dragon drew the skin closed again.
"The trinket will be finished by the time we arrive."
"Are we going to go kill a whale or something?"
"Uuuuumm... I'm not really sold on the whale riding plan."
"Well, a ship would indeed be nicer, but those things take time to construct, barring whatever the resident Archmage can conjure up."
"I can teleport indefinitely."
"I can teleport indefinitely."
"That's lovey for you, dear, but of absolutely no help to the rest of us. "
Meredian says as she files her nails. Where she got a nail file from you couldn't say.
"Crafting a whale into a vessel would take roughly an hour if we worked hastily." Anaxian spoke, smoke roiling out his mouth and nose. "Finding a whale would likely take far more time."
"Building ourselves a vessel would give us a lair to work from. I am sure by now you are all aware that is my favored method of approaching our work."
"However you want to do it is fine. I'm getting bored. Lets just go kill something or discover dangerous ruins or what not. "
"I'm with Meredian. As amusing as your machinations are Anaxian, they seldom give the rest of us anything to do."
"Patience is key, many battles have been lost for attacking too hastily."
"Patience is key, many battles have been lost for attacking too hastily."
"Mistakes for me are more a delay than anything else. However, I'm not usually working with a group that I wish to live...or unlive, or whatever. You know what I mean. Perhaps I should learn patience eventually. "
*She visibly fidgets*
Then suddenly has an idea
"Are there whalers in this city? I wonder if there's a skeleton lying around we can just abscond with."
"Drisquar, if you are looking for something to do, there is a suitable suggestion. Why not look?"
"Having a Druid call us a suitable creature would also work."
Excelent suggestion. That would give us the luxury of choice. We should ask for a megolodon, rather than a whale." Anaxian's mind voice rasped.
It didn't take Drisquar long to find someone willing to call up a giant shark.
Killing the thing was the work of moments. Then Anaxian got to work.
Sharks do not have many bones. They are, in fact, mostly cartilage connected by sinew and muscle. The anatomy of sea creatures does not require a great deal of structural support, so Anaxian was forced to get creative.
What he had was a great many Drow skeletons and mystic paints which became what they were used to depict.
His larger counterpart showed off a prodigious lifting strength by dragging the sixty foot corpse onto the sand of their little island, where the smaller Anaxian promptly melted the flesh from its bones.
He extended the creature's ribcage down the spine far past the point that it would have interfered with its organs if it still had them. He added a narrow platform along the top of the creature's spine, and a much wider one below it anchored between the ribs like the lower deck of a ship. Metal sheeting and struts were added to reinforce the bones, and sinews were recreated to add flexibility and strength.
When he was finished the enormous shark was a skeletal monster outfitted with armored reinforcement, seats, storage, and even a large, soft spongy bed. It's threshing tail and fins had been rebuilt out of hardened leather and metal. Everburning torches were set into hooded bullseye lanterns in its eye sockets.
When he animated it blood welled up between the bones and lubricated the viscera. It thrashed, jerked, and then calmed at Anaxian's spell-backed command.
With a shove it was waterborne. The narrow upper platform rested at water level like a raft. The dorsal fin stood out of the water as tall as Sir John.
It is done.
"Delightful as always." Mer said with sincerity. Then she floated over to inspect the ship eventually entering it.
"let's go start some s++&!"
Four days pass mostly uneventfully, as the party moves silently through the water, leaving a trail of blood that quickly disperses in its wake. The sharkboat dives when vehicles appear on the horizon, avoiding the pirates of the Shackles, bur never goes deep enough to stir up the sort of forgotten things that might actually attack it. Instead, the party passes a dozen whales, two dragon turtles, and what looks like a young kraken, all of which give you a very wide berth; sharks and fish are only ever seen in the distance, as they flee the unnatural scent of the sharkboat’s blood. The salt water around you is clammy, and bitter, tinged with blood that finds its way into your eyes, hair, and clothing; but this is a party of creatures far more disciplined than the average adventurer, and there is little bickering or argument on the voyage. Illia- may or may not sing sea shanties.
Anaxian steers near the reef the others visited, though the course veers about twenty miles East, and down to a pitch-black trench in the seafloor. Sahuagin gnash their teeth and hiss, pointing tridents and muttering vague curses at the party, but they too stay away; there’s an old legend in these parts about the foolishness and danger of attacking an undead boat.
And, finally, as it descends into the darkness, lighting a small area with its eye-lanterns, the sharkboat abruptly freezes. A voice speaks directly into each of your minds. What brings you impressive creatures to Voshgurvaghol, that once and again was the future? the voice asks, in booming monotone undercommon, And is this sculpted creature the gift you have brought in exchange for access to our city of beauty and hope?
Three hundred feet in the distance, you see a large coiling fish with six eyes, smaller and slightly different than the descriptions of Aboleths you may have heard from the party or others.
"You should make a submersible out of a dragon turtle!" Mer says the day they see a dragon turtle in the distance. "It's got lots of Bony parts for you to work with and I bet it's nearly water tight anyway. Just a thought."
She says off handedly then goes back to staring into the distance.
And, finally, as it descends into the darkness, lighting a small area with its eye-lanterns, the sharkboat abruptly freezes. A voice speaks directly into each of your minds. What brings you impressive creatures to Voshgurvaghol, that once and again was the future? the voice asks, in booming monotone undercommon, And is this sculpted creature the gift you have brought in exchange for access to our city of beauty and hope?
Meridian thinks and speaks simultaneously.
"Maybe. Do we need to present a gift or can we just apply for tourist visas or something? "
Ariighty, we've got a kinda fish maybe Aboleth guy three hundred feet thattaway. Doesn't look like he's gonna attack, but well, I don't know what fish look like when they're gonna attack. Illia- telepathically communicates with her allies, also impressing the direction.
And, hello! We were looking for a lich named Master Jiator. We've got a job offer for him when he's not busy. Other than that, like, I'd love to see if Voshiegervaaa... Vosergerva.. Voshy's is/will be a cool place. We wanna build a cool place too, and as long as we're both wanting to build cool places, then we might be able to trade and stuff in the future. I dunno, the future's a vast place with lots of possibilities.
Sir John, after hearing Illia- accurately place the aboleth three hundred feet away, walks over to Anaxian, cups his hand, and whispers quietly into the lich's tympanic membrane.
His manner was that of one accustomed to advising those who wielded greater political power than he.
"Strategically speaking, this vessel could be used as a Trojan Horse . If you'd like, you could take it back as you leave in whatever manner necessary. A frontal assault would risk Jiator siding against us, we do not know his loyalties yet. Additionally, these creatures hoard knowledge, as you know. Perhaps you could take some of that, were you so inclined."
Upon hearing the distance the Aboleth is, Dris grins "That's a light jog for me, want I should go and investigate some?
Aw, no need to maybe be making enemies if we can all be frieeends!
Anaxian considered, and then nodded to Sir John.
"Devious. A good plan."
The smaller Anaxian carved a way a small bit of bone and set a clear bauble into it. Then he used his negative energy touch to heal over the bone again.
"It is likely not actually there. Aboleth can project their images. Short of touching it, or sensing its movements in the water, there is little way to discern a projected image from a real Aboleth. Their illusions are often layered and many." Anaxian said to Drisquar.
You carried knowledge of the Architect? the voice responds to Illia- and Meredian's comments, but speaking to the whole group, continuing its monotone and strange syntax. That was good. You seem practiced in his craft, Necromancers, and your assistance in his work will have been a fine gift. As for the angel, devil, and one who does not belong, it has been long since we heard songs of the farther planes, and gifts of stories on your part deem sufficient.
You carried knowledge of the Architect? the voice responds to Illia- and Meredian's comments, but speaking to the whole group, continuing its monotone and strange syntax. That was good. You seem practiced in his craft, Necromancers, and your assistance in his work will have been a fine gift. As for the angel, devil, and one who does not belong, it has been long since we heard songs of the farther planes, and gifts of stories on your part deem sufficient.
"Sounds great. I do like to talk about things and places. Do you have an name or shall we simply refer to you as 'the welcome wagon?' Also, where do we park? "
There is nothing about this I like. Anaxian said dryly.
Aw, just think about all the fun you'll have when they realize you've turned all their walls into hollow passageways for an army of small biting bone fishies! Your plans are always more fun when you get an extravagant amount of time to prepare.
True.
I will have been the Keeper of this city, though if you prefer you may have the use of my full name, Tiferl'hek Ask'gerlochrehlischtenflhuk, the creature replies to Meredian. The last two words are spoken aloud, and slowly, with most consonants lasting for nearly a second in a buzzing vibrato, through an uncomfortably mucosy stream of burbles.[/i][/b]
Four lights flicker on in the darkness, and the party sees a small, slender, twisting aboleth several hundred feet away, no more than 15 feet long and bearing six eyes instead of three.
You've never seen one before, but this creature appears to be a Veiled Master—a rare and ancient subspecies of aboleth known for its telepathy, regeneration, shape-shifting disguises, and powerful spells.
If you wish to spend your future in the city, I can lead your creation to the stables, the creature adds, after several seconds.
The sharkboat stopped moving when the fish-creature first spoke into your minds. It has not begun to move again. This appears to be the result of two competing Command Undead spells.
Greetings Keeper. We will offer you this one chance to release our creation from your attempt to control it. Wherever you wish to take us, it will be us that leads it. Anaxian said to the creature.
No offense will be meant, the Keeper responds, But the ocean is dark, and traffic controls become necessary. We would not have wanted your 'creation' to collide with one of our buildings, in folly. I will have gladly released the stop order, but please make sure it follows my lights, so it became not a nuisance.
Release the spell entirely. Then you may guide us.
Was done.
The glowing Keeper guides the sharkboat downwards, into an unseen trench, for what seems like about half an hour of swimming. And then the craft turns up, and the city comes into view, built inside a massive underwater cave and hidden from surface eyes. Aboleths possess only limited darkvision; and so, to see their creations, the city is dimly lit, by mile-long strings of glowing lanterns lit with continual flames.
Voshgurvaghol was once the greatest city in the world; now, it is clearly a ruin. It is hard to get a sense of the size of the cavern, which may have once been dozens or even hundreds of miles wide; much of it has been filled with rubble and sand by long-forgotten earthquakes, while cracks and holes in the far walls lead off into inky darkness. While the aboleths have excavated a great deal of the city ruins, the current "city" as it stands is only a few miles wide, in a cave maybe two thousand feet tall. A few, scattered buildings have been rebuilt; maybe one in ten stands, lit and unshattered. Most of these are stone huts in strange shapes, but a few impressive towers are visible in the approaching cityscape.
Hovering over the city, you see perhaps half a dozen aboleths (of the more common variety), driving small schools of a dozen sahuagin or skum between them. As you pass over the ruins, you see the occasional humanoid skeleton rummaging in the rubble; in the distance, faint music can be heard, played on several plinking instruments spread across the city. The Keeper leads your craft to a large, pillared hangar, though some of the carved columns are newly-built, while others appear to be cracked and reassembled. Inside, four skeletal orcas gnaw idly at the carts and detached ship hulls they've been harnessed to; a turtle dragon skeleton lies silent in the far corner, while zombie crabs ranging in size from one to twenty feet across scuttle aimlessly.
So, the Keeper comments, once you've found a pen for the sharkboat, It was always nice to meet others with no need for the nonsense of rest. Here in Voshgurvaghol, in our own time, everyone was working. Who will you like to see first—the Architect, the Mayor, or the builders?
Anaxian gives a telepathic command to their boat and leaves it where it is. The little dragon was entirely hidden within his new, larger form.
"Which of those has the highest rank. That's who we'd like to see first. "
At some point when it's possible Meredian whispers to whomever of the companions closest. "What is it we're looking for again? "
