Aubrey's Eberron campaign. (Inactive)

Game Master Aubrey the Malformed

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (6) + 12 = 18 Is he for real about Rolund's compulsion?

"Someone that we oppose wants them."

Good luck reading the expressions of a walking squid.

"Whelp, that's about all we know about those shards."

"So, Croke......how long have you been......not Croke?"

"Whelp, that's about all we know about those shards."

If you say so, though I'm not so sure that is really true. Wait... If I read your minds correctly, there is a name. Ah, Ranticar! Indeed, a most stimulating gentleman.

I can understand you don't trust a mindflayer but it's a bit pants when when the villain has to remind you about plot details. If I might, you sought out Jeeboo to find Ranticar. Ranticar is the last person known to be in possession of the shards.

"Ah, for f!%!`s sake. Let`s get this s#*+ over with so we can move on." Janosz can`t make himself look at, much less address, the mindflayer; instead he speaks to `Croke`, glaring daggers at the changeling while fondling his byeshk warhammer. "There were several shards, each holding a different personality. Our patrons want to recover the shards. Ranticar had them last; the reason we were looking for Jeeboo is that he`s a known associate of the mad artificer. Now, could you perhaps tell us a bit about his stimulating nature?"

"Stimulating? How so? Please do tell...."

He holds some very interesting notions on the origins of the soul. He considers the soul to be an expression of the mechanistic processes of life, instigated by them and influenced by them, rather it being an exterior force which is imposed upon lifeless matter and thereby giving it life and sentience. As a researcher on the warforged programme for House Cannith he had the chance to put his theories to the test. Though he never mentioned any shards in my converations with him. Notwithstanding, his views would be considered heretical by most faiths, of course. Where do you stand on the matter, Father Xativa?

"Well, I believe the soul comes from the flame; I'm not sure whether or not you're familiar with our teachings.
Like him, though, I do believe the warforged have a soul.
I don't believe, like the illithid philosopher Glivadzissz, that what we consider to be the soul is just a resultant of chemical processes being performed in the brain.
There's more to it than that.

So, when's the last time you spoke with him then?"

I knew I would enjoy your visit, Father Xativa! But you are right, we have pressing business with Doctor Ranticar. Would you and your colleagues please accompany Saoonah back to the cellar? We can consult with Ranticar there.

Saoonah stirs, and indicates the direction of the tunnel with a polite wave of his arm.

Back to the cellar? Why do I think this is going to be a bit disturbing?

"Everything down here is disturbing, with the most frightening thing being this place`s mere existence", Janosz mutters sourly to Gil. "Frankly, I think I have reached saturation level. After the mouth-gate, the dolgrim birthing tubes, the de-brained cultist, the immortal squid-faced abomination... Seriously, no matter what they have done to the artificer, I doubt I`ll be shocked. Maybe, just maybe if he`s just fine, a completely normal human being with no grafts or parasites or twisted designs on his flesh... Yeah, that will shock me. But we both know that won`t happen."

Saoonah leads the way along the corridor back to the cellar. The Master follows behind, accompanied by a twitchy Gelb, the two vacant-looking heavies and its impassive dolgaunt bodyguards. By the time they return, the body has been removed from the chair and it lies empty in the middle of the room. The wall, honeycombed with individual cells, confronts them.

The ithillid approaches the wall, walking slowly and peering at the legends written underneath each cell. It finally finds what it wants and turns to regard Nevharath. You are a kalashtar, are you not, trainied in the science of the mind? Do you wish to join me in communing with Doctor Ranticar? He's just here.

Rodergo looks on in interest.

before answering, Nevharath considers the offer.

Know: Psionics: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (12) + 16 = 28 What might be the negative effects of such communing? What might I experience?

The situation is somewhat unprecedented, so it's hard to say. At this point you do't actually know who or what you are communing with. That said, it doesn't sound intrinsically dangerous.

"Sure, but no tricks, I hope," Nevharath replies, before glancing back at the group, "This could be interesting."

Nevharath approaches cautiously. The cell the Master indicates is now softly lit from within. The membrane covering the aperture is translucent and the kalashtar can see the contents - a disembodied human brain, floating in liquid and connected by blood vessels to the cell walls.

A fine mind indeed, Doctor Ranticar. I am something of a student of sensuality. You have your gourmands and I, in my own field, have similar aspirations. I find that the best minds carry the greatest savour, but immediate removal and consumption usually disturbs their equilibrium and sours the experience. Fear and rage are such ordinary emotions - I can experience them over and over with the baser folk. With a greater intellect, one wishes to enjoy the finer aspects: the refined sensorium, the profound insights, the exquisite memories. So instead I pioneered a method to remove them and mature them here in the cellar. The sensory deprivation calms the mind, turns it inward, makes it become more itself, if you understand. Once the mind has settled and mellowed - matured, as it were - the brain is then ready for consumption. Of course, not all withstand the treatment - insanity is an unfortunately common result of the process which I am trying hard to eliminate. And some can take a long time to reach the required state. But when they do! The ithillid's tentacles stir and it makes a disturbing noise akin to lip-smacking.

This is Doctor Ranticar, now in quiet contemplation. Shall we ask him about these shards? Just reach out with your mind.

I'll detect thoughts on Ranticar.

"You're an,......interesting,...creature, Mr. Illithid...."

"Told ya", Janosz whispers to Gil, nodding in some kind of satisfaction.

Basically, if you can do Detect Thoughts or something similar (like kalashtar Mind Link) you can read the brain's thoughts - you can decide for your character.

She just looks at the Eldeen ranger grimly.

Gil will cast Detect Thoughts and focus on Ranticar as well.

Nevharath manifests mindlink on the brain.

::What became of the shards that were in your possession? You know which ones.::

Those tapping into the brain:

The Master gives a mental chuckle. Ah, Doctor Ranticar, so promiscuous in your religious dealings, yet beholden none of them.

"Master,.....can Ranticar....hear you? Or, I should say,.....can he sense your communications? "

Aub:

Rodergo:

To some extent. I prefer not to disturb my charges too much as it interferes with the maturation process.

"Okay; well, maybe you know. I'm certain your seeing abilities are better than mine;........do you know where that temple of the Keeper is that he's remembering?"

Rod'll try to get out a piece of paper, try to draw it as well as he can.

1d20 ⇒ 7 whatever "drawing" is skillwise.

"Has anybody ever seen a place like this?"

He'll try to draw a picture of Mr. Spiky armor as well.

"Or this.......whatever he is?....."

The ithillid peers at Rodergo's drawings with interest. You have a fascinatingly... naive artistic style, Father Xativa.

But let me put you out of your misery, as I recognised both the place and the individual. The place is Gath's Mausoleum, in Halden's Tomb. That's one of the two necropolises in Sharn. Halden's Tomb is on the cliffs above Tavick's Landing. And the gentleman in the armour in Gath himself, high priest of the Keeper. Not really my sort of person, to be quite frank.

"Yeah. I suppose he's not brainy enough for your company...."

Rod quips, one tick closer to chaotic neutral on the ethicomoral geiger counter great Urizen forgot in his desk drawer when he designed the vaults of heaven over Eberron as well as all below.

Knowledge: religion 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (5) + 16 = 21
to jog my mammary about this Gath bastard.

"Dolcdur Lecter, uh......wut kin yew tail may balt this......buffalo gath feller?...."

Rodergo:

To my assembled cohorts;
"It would seem that Ranticar gave over a wooden box to Gath; I presume it held that which we seek.
Gath's Mausoleum is in Halden's Tomb. On the cliffs, over Tavick's landing.
Gath is an undead, a presumably powerful one. He is a High Priest of....the Keeper...
he mentors necromancers; never tries anything too too ambitious himself. He has haunted the necropolii of Sharn for centuries.
Few seek him out; they either don't survive him, or won't talk about it.

Gaia Sotharr, Warden of the Warden Tower of Dragon Crypts, and priestess of the Flame, may know more about him.

I've always wanted to meet her. So glad,....to finally have a legitimate excuse."

Nobody can tell if this last dry line is sarcasm. Not even Rodergo himself.

"So, my familiars;....shall we seek out this ancient Gath, or seek Gaia's counsel first? My reckoning is that the latter would be most wise."

"The priestess, certainly. However, we need to get outta here first." Janosz turns back to Gelb. "What do we owe you for this admittedly useful information?"

"Don't wrack your brain, thinking.....too hard about it,...."

Nevharath, listening to the planners planning, will try to steer the brain into producing an image of that wooden box it was holding while open. Perhaps an image of putting the contents in the box or taking them out. Trying to confirm the shards were indeed in there

Gil concentrates on her spell, only tangentially paying attention to her surroundings, wanting to make sure she gleans out everything possible from the odd interview.

Owe? Nothing. Instead I propose a trade.

did Nevharath manage to uncover the image he was steering for? should he make a mental ability score check or skill check?

Hmmm... Try Knowledge (Psionics).

1d20 + 16 ⇒ (3) + 16 = 19

Probably not, then.

Rolund, sullen and quiet throughout the exchange, looks up warily at the word, trade.

Runzyl spends most of his time pacing, occassionally offering a disgusted look at the hideous creature his companions negotiate with. He says nothing, however, and makes no motion to lash out against the creature. It is clear that he is uncomfortable with the arrangements being discussed, but he understands the concept of 'necessary evil.'

These shards are clearly items of great interest, especially if they somehow set Doctor Ranticar, Gath and your good selves on a collision course. So I would like to examine them. I do not claim any ownership, but would be very grateful if you bring them back here so I could run a few divinations over them before returining them to your care.

In return, I will remove the compulsion afflicting our friend here. Sadly, I estimate he has perhaps two days to live if this is not done. The effect particularly potent, and I am afraid I am almost certainly the only person in Sharn who actually possesses the skill to eliminate it without causing major harm. However, with some minor psychic surgery I can return him to you as good as new. In comparison with the death of your cohort, I imagine a few minutes with the shards is a trivial price to pay.

Caedes finds itself in Rolund's hand.

"I am a Bone Knight of Karrnath. Death is no stranger."

However, the words ring hollow and Rolund's face shows his struggle to remain calm.

Other people's, maybe. Not your own. I appreciate your masochistic stubbornness but I see little point why you should die pointlessly to please the Church of the Silver Flame.

Rolund struggles to answer but finds himself unable to.

A flash of purple light courses through Rolund's sinister side of his body. His aberrant mark has spread further; only his head and lower leg yet remain untainted by the mark.

"Stay back!" he yells using his outstretched left hand as a warning.

Touch of idiocy activated.

I assure you I have no intention of going remotely near you. But even you, I think, can see the logic of the arrangement.

"It's up to Rolund really. He really doesn't like being helped."

Rod watches in amazement.