Rehil sighs as he watches the airship rise. He stares at it with unfocused eyes for a few long moments.
Then he looks at his companions. "Odd that they left their tower here unguarded. It is likely to be a trap."
Above the open space between the towers, the couatls writhe in a shimmering golden glow. It is hard to make out the individuals, the light being intense and creating a fog-like density that is hard to penetrate, and the creatures circle and swoop around another in a complicated knot of shimmering wings and snaky coils. Tal cannot divine their purpose, but he can feel the power emanating from them, running like static across his skin.
"Across Eberron the couatls try to seal the enemy with the breast of the beast which birthed them," breathes Orzaxes. It is unusual for a dragon of such seniority to speak with lesser creatures, but the gravity of the moment seems to have made Orzaxes talkative. Something that could make a dragon of such power as garrulous as a new recruit before his first battle, reflects Tal, must be of great import indeed. "We witness a shift in the epochs," he continues. The other dragons rustle their wings nervously.
Suddenly, a booming howl emanates from the depths of the crater.
Cole also stares up at the receding airship. A forlorn-looking statue.
Rehil’s words shake him from his stupor, though, and he cocks his head to look at the tower. “Maybe. No reason not to be careful, now. We have nothing but time, now.”
Cole shrugs, “Whether its trapped or not, I’m curious about Master Otto’s tower, there.”
Tal nods grimly, and double checks his weapons and armor, listening to the dragon. When the howl comes, he chooses the three dragons as his designated protectorate, and centers himself between them. While he's a powerful fighter, the dragons are the crucial piece of the plan, and it is they who need to be kept alive the longest.
His eyes glow blue and a faint pulse of blue energy bleeds from his eyes, worming it's way through the air to the three dragons, briefly flickering over their bodies as he forms the bond. Then the blue light vanishes, but they are still there.
"Well, if they left that thing caged, I'm inclined to let it loose, if for no reason than to be contrary."
As a local inhabutant, does the thing ring any bells to Ashshar?
"Don't go sso fast, Nalverren... if it iss dangerouss I don't want that thing rampaging through my tribe's lands. We need to take a closer look." says the lizardfolk before starting to walk towards the tower and waiting mid-way to wait for the rest
"Quickly!" urges the ancient red dragon. "Xaorten, Gashtorek, slow it down!" He looks at Geer. "You, muster the warriors! You," he continues, now regarding Tal, "With me."
The two dragons immediately take flight, plunging into the depths of the crater. Their forms are quickly obscured by the roiling clouds within. Geer runs to rouse the army to defnd the site. Orzaxes pulls himself up to his maximum height and begins to chant a spell. The couatls continue to circle and writhe in the air above, so far undisturbed, the glow from their ritual casting shadows in the ground.
A frowning Otto speaks, "Ashshar is correct, Nalverren. I saw the world burn, but I don't know if it was because that beast was caged, or released. Anything we do could actually advance the prophecy, not stop it. But we must go and look."
The cleric begins to stride toward the tower in Ashshar's wake.
Rehil shrugs and fits an arrow to his bow. "Someone should keep watch. The airship may return. They may have left a strike team in the nearby forest. Zzej may be leading his braves here."
The elf trails the others toward the tower.
"That'ss..... a dragon? It can't be... I heard the desscriptions of the shaman... but it can't be..." Ashshar stops at the sight.
Cole exchanges a look with Wultram. "I've never seen something like that. It looks like ... a dragon?"
As Rehil and Otto move forward, the big 'forged follows, eyes and ears peeled. "So is this why they were here, do you think? If they were dragging off relics from your people, Ashshar, then I can't think it a coincidence."
The group move forward cautiously in Otto's wake. It does indeed appear to be a dragon hanging vertically, head down, inside the framework of the tower. It has been fastened to the structure by stout bolts piercing it through wings, wrists and ankles, and blood drips slowly down its body. About twenty feet long, with a coppery hide, it seems to be unconscious, though its wings move almost imperceptibly as it breathes.
Its head dangles a few inches above a stone monolith, pitted and lichen-splotched, which has also been incorporated into the base of the tower. Dragonshards of various sizes and colours glow and pulse amid the fretwork. Thick cables run to the metallic hut, which on closer inspection seems to be some sort of shielded shelter, with thick metal walls, a darkly tinted window facing the tower, and a blast door which currently lies open.
As Otto walks up, the dragon opens a bleary green eye. "Hmmf, got left behind did you?" it grunts. "Well, there's nothing I can do to save you. Best make your accommodation with whatever gods you worship, it can't be long now."
Otto shakes his head and approaches closer. "We were not left behind. We were drawn by a vision of this place crumbling, a cave of ice, Thaliost in flames, and a dragon ascendant. What do these visions portend? What is this place?"
The dragon's apparent equanimity disturbs Rehil, but he remains silent.
Race
HP 30/51 :: AC 14/10/14 CMD 15 :: Fort +6 Ref +1 Will +7 :: IC 1/14 :: DF 0/10, Heroism
About Otto ir'Kaspardt
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OTTO IR’KASPARDT
Male Human (Thrane) Cleric (Evangelist) (5) of Dol Arrah
LG, M, Humanoid
Init +4; Senses Perception +7
DEFENSE
AC 14, touch 10, flat-footed 14 (armor +4)
HP 51 (5d8 +5 (Toughness) + 10 (Con) +5 (FC)); DR --
Fort +6, Ref +1, Will +7
Immune
Resist
Spcl Def. Countersong, Fascinate, Channel (5 / day, 2d6).
OFFENSE
Speed 30 (Light Armor)
Melee Longspear +5 (1d8+3; 20/x3, P) reach
Melee Halberd +5 (1d10+3; 20/x3, P and S) brace, trip
Range Javelin +3 (1d6+2; 20/x2 inc. 30 ft, P)
Spcl Att. Inspire Courage +2 (StA, hit and damage competence, charm and fear morale, 14 rounds per day), Spellcasting (CL 4, Concentration +7).
Memorized Spells
3 (1+1+1, DC 16): xcure serious wounds + heroism // tongues
2 (2+1+1, DC 15): xmuffle sound, silence, cure moderate wounds + bless weapon // enthrall
1 (3+1+1, DC 14): remove fear, cure light wounds, divine favor, bless + shield of faith // command
0 (4, DC 13): detect magic, light, spark, purify food and drink
OTHER
Str 15, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 14; (25 pt buy, Human +2 Wis, level 4: +1 Str)
BAB +3 ; CMB +5; CMD 15
Feats H-Fast Learner, 1-Toughness, 3-Power Attack, 5-Improved Initiative.
Traits Fate’s Favored (+1 luck bonus), Fast-Talker.
Skills (Cleric 2, Human 1, Intelligence 2, Fast Learner 1) x 5
ACP
Bluff (Cha) +10 = 4+2+3+1* trait
Diplomacy (Cha) +10 = 5+2+3*
Heal (Wis) +7 = 1+3+3*
Knowledge (local) (Int) +7 = 2+2+3*
Knowledge (religion) (Int) +8 = 3+2+3*
Linguistics (Chr) tr
Perception (Wis) +8 = 5+3
Perform (Oratory) (Chr) +3 = 1+2+3*
Profession (Wis) (Diplomat) +7 = 1+3+3*
Sense Motive (Wis) +10 = 4+3+3*
Spellcraft (Int) +9 = 4+2+3*
* cleric class skills
Languages Common, Draconic, Celestial.
SQ Orisons, Domains (Heroism), Touch of Glory (StA, +lvl on Chr check, one hour max, 3+Wis/day), Bardic Performance (StA; 4+Chr+2/lvl (10) rounds / day; Countersong, Fascinate, Inspire Courage +2).
EQUIPMENT
Spent: 160.54 GP
Worn or carried gear
-Chainshirt (100 gp, 25 lbs)
-Longspear (5 GP, 9 lbs)
-Halberd (10 GP, 12 lbs)
-Javelin (5) (5 GP, 10 lbs)
-Signal whistle (8 SP, -)
-Wooden Holy Symbol (1 gp. —)
-Traveler’s Outfit (1 GP, 5 lbs)
Pouch, Belt (1 gp, 0.5 lb)
-4 GP
-4 SP
-6 CP
Backpack (2 gp, 2 lbs)
-Waterproof Bag (0.5 gp, 0.5 lb)
-Chalk (0.01 gp)
-Earplugs (0.03 gp)
-Flint and steel (1 gp)
-Tobacco (1 sp, 0.2 lb)
-Smoking Pipe (5 sp)
-Bedroll (0.1 gp, 5 lbs)
-Rations (3 days) (1.5 gp, 3 lbs)
-Waterskin (1 gp, 4 lbs)
-Backup Wooden Holy Symbol (1 gp. —)
-Scroll Case (1 gp, 0.5 lb)
-Scroll of Cure Light Wounds (50 gp) [2]
Scrolls: One can remove curses, next one imbues shield or armor with magic for added protection, another heals and the final one reveals invisible opponents in the imidiate proxity.
DESCRIPTION
Otto is a polished man. He carries with him in his manners, in his clothing, the reverent ways of Thrane. His hair shows the sign of early aging, no doubt brought forth by the trials of the Last War and the tribulations surrounding the Treaty of Thronehold, but his eyes remain fiery and inquisitive, filled with the zeal of faith.
In contrast, his voice is warm and welcoming, though it can also speak with authority, or roar and cut through the elements in times of need.
He prefers simple and functional garments of ecru, usually a short vest crossed over a white shirt, and strong brown leather boots. He carries a small pendant representing the sun over the ocean, the sign of his faith, around his neck.
An idealist, Otto has come to believe, through his studies and his experience, that bringing back the ways of ancient Galifar is the best cure for the wounds that fester among the Five Nations.
The last few weeks have been hard though and his appearance has suffered. His eyes wander a lot when he speaks or listens, as though he’s distracted by something, or someone.
BACKGROUND
Otto is the first son of Fried ir’Kaspardt, a renowned priest of Thaliost. Sponsored by his father, he joined the Church of the Sovereign Host and avoided the worst of the war by working in the foreign services as a diplomat and a mediator in Thaliost, mediating between the Thranish occupying forces and the Aundairean loyalists. Though he avoided the fields of carnage, the Last War nevertheless took a heavy toll on him, as he witnessed, despite his best efforts, inner guerrilla wars and national hatred cut through the hope of his city.
When the war ended, Otto had built a great reputation and was invited to join the negotiations in Thronehold, in particular to determine the fate of Thaliost. For two years he toiled at bringing some purpose to that futile war. The result was a fragile peace treaty, a lost Thaliost, a shattered reputation, and a sour resentment for the legacy of the Last War.
Disillusioned, Otto, still carrying with him the dream of a strong and liberating Galifar, opted to use his savings to buy himself a voyage to distant Newthrone in Q’barra, where he had heard the ancient ideals were kept alive.
But his airship was attacked and crashed in the jungle. Hunted by mercenaries, his group of survivors were murdered, one by one. Isolated, he struggled to survive for weeks, until he stumbled upon an abandoned temple. Tired and delusional, he hid there, only to see his sanity shred further by the terrible denizens of the temple.
He managed to escape the temple, unsure whether this was all in his head, but got captured a few days later by a tribe of lizardfolk. His fate was sealed, until he reached out and healed, in a final gesture of compassion, one of the warriors he had grievously wounded. The hunters decided to bring him back alive, and their witch doctor, uncertain about the power of this strange man and the wishes of the spirits, opted to keep him alive.
For now.
Notes:
Vision: A lichen-splotched obelisk stands in a clearing in the jungle. A ruined city, covered in creepers, crumbles into a lake of startling blue. An ice cave, glittering icicles hanging like stalactites, opens on to a howling blizzard. The Cathedral of the Silver Flame in Thaliost burns out of control, the high tower collapsing in ruins. A dark shape - bat wings, long snaking neck and tail - flies low over the forest. And, ever present, a formless dread. And the sound of hissing serpents...
Everything about this made Cole uncomfortable. Dragons were real, but still somehow the stuff of legend and myth. To be so close to one—and one that was apparently unfriendly—was a bit overwhelming.
"Save us from what? What won't be long now?"
What did Tal do just then, with the eyes and so on? I don't have his character sheet in his alias so I'm not sure, and I can't use the link at work as it's blocked. If it's pertinent it might impact on what I describe subsequently.
As an aside, it would be helpful to have his character sheet actually written out in his alias, so I can access it at all times.
Tal nods, and positions himself near the great wyrm, his shield and swords ready. As the two other dragons leave his area of influence, he glances up toward the flying allies, and picks two in range who look to be the most powerful and his eyes glow again, linking them to him.
"I am ready." The four armed paladin says quietly, his voice deep and resonant, his eyes flick around, looking for enemies.
"Yes, great dragon, I am intrigued to know more. Were they the ones who bolted you so?"
Nalverren had heard stories from men he had no reason to doubt of when they had seen dragons, but to see one for himself...
Vaard approaches alongside Nalverren, and bows before the dragon.
The dragon casts a sceptical eye at Otto and the others, though it seems to answer Nalverren's query. Sort of.
"Well I'm glad you're so f$@&ing intrigued with the situation, while I hang here like a hog waiting to be slaughtered," it replies sarcastically. Then a thought seems to occur to it. "Wait, you weren't with Grinnersen's crew? You were the ones who attacked last night?"
"And what have they been doing to you?" Cole asks in only-slightly-broken Draconic.
Otto shakes his head. "You're all wasting time! Dragon, how much time to do we have? Can we stop this by cutting you free?"
Rehil raps on Cole's shoulder. "I'm climbing a tower to watch. Trust no dragon. As a child I was told many stories of their wars on elves."
The elf spins on his heal and trots for the closest tall tower to watch for the airship's return or the lizard tribes' arrival.
"They are coming back to slaughter you? And yes, what were they doing to you?"
"Listen, we don't have time for explanations," replies the dragon urgently. "This whole rig is designed to create a necrotic pulse that'll kill everything within a few miles of here. Except me, but what'll happen to me is probably worse, and we don't have time to discuss that now. It's running on a timer which is counting down to give our enemies a chance to get out of the area before it activates. I reckon we have a minute or two at most.
"The apparatus is controlled from the pod over there," the dragon continues, inclining its head the tiny fraction it can manage towards the hut. "Unfortunately, it and the containment structure in which I currently find myself are boobytrapped. You can't just yank out the cables and smash up the tower, or it will go off prematurely. You will have to try and deactivate it using the controls in there.
"Also, if you can't shut it down..." The dragon takes a deep breath. "Well, the pod is shielded. It might be enough to stop the worst of the pulse."
Otto wheels toward Ashshar, "You've keen eyes. Help Wultram."
Then the cleric calls after the departing elf. "Rehil! The hut and tower are booby trapped. Come help look!"
Turning back toward the tower, Otto follows Wultram's suit and casts detect magic. Then he starts moving toward the tower and hut.
Rehil stops, spins on his heel, and returns at a run.
Cole begins looking over the apparatus where the dragon hangs, as well as the cables connecting them ... trying to come up with anything that might prove useful.
As he searches—really not sure what he's looking at—he speaks to the dragon in its tongue. "How did they catch you? And in all their work, did you get a sense for what they hope to achieve with this device?"
With precious little time to talk, Nalverren also sets his mind to the task, as three sets of eyes are better than just Rehil's and Otto's.
As Otto did, so does Nalverren and infuses his leather cap with Detect Magic to see any magical auras.
Inside the hut are two panels, each with a chair bolted to the floor in front of it, covered with complex controls - switches, buttons and dials, and one large lever locked into place. Lights wink and others glow steadily. Cables lead from the panels and lock into sockets in the pod walls. Disconcertingly, a disembodied feminine voice can be heard counting down. "Two hundred and twenty-three, two hundred and twenty-two..."
The dragon looks curiously at Cole. "You don't seem like the other warforged I've met. I was captured when I tried to infiltrate the organisation which is responsible for all of this. Turns out I was less the spy and more the subject for their experiment. As to what they are trying to achieve, I suspect that this may be little more than a prelude, a dummy run. Wait a moment." The dragon calls out to those in the control pod. "What can you see?"
One of the dragons bursts through the clouds below, wings pumping as it tries to gain height. Something follows it up, parting the fog as its huge bulk. The fleeing dragon is dwarfed against it. A scaly amorphous lump with multiple eyes and fang-filled mouths, enormous tentacle limbs swarming, even this seems but a fraction of the beast as it heaves and squirms upwards, more of it hidden beneath the shroud of poisonous smoke.
"So the maharaja lord shows himself!" roars Orzaxes. "This shall be glorious!" He spreads his wings, seizes Tal in one claw, and plunges over the lip of the crater towards the rising abomination.
"Be careful, gonna try to de-trap and unlock this, but my skills are kinda rusty." Nalverren says to the others in the vicinity.
If his fiddling proves fruitful, Nalverren will then try to pull the lever.
Rehil pricks up his ears. "Maybe I can help with locks."
The elf moves to the hut beside Nalverren. He says quietly, "Odd these tools are useful now. Here. I carried them so far."
“I’m not,” responds Cole without looking up from his inspection of the wires. “I’d guess they’re all newer models.”
Then he does look up, “So what organization is responsible for all this? And a test for what?”
Between them, Rehil and Nalverren work on the controls. They disable the trap that would have flooded the pod with poison gas before they unlock the lever. Nalverren pulls it down. As he does so, the switches and dials light up. A small glass screen illuminates and writing scrolls across it: "Welcome, Professor Targryn. Please confirm your identity."
Meanwhile, the voice continues to count down. "One hundred and eighty-three, one hundred and eighty-two..."
"This place is ancient," replies the dragon. "Q'barra is littered with ruins from the Demon Age, but this one is extra special. Underneath here is incarcerated one of Khyber's generals. They mean to release this spirit, and use me as a vessel for it to inhabit. But that only scratches the surface of what this device, or something like it, could achieve."
Cole doesn't look away from his inspection of the dragon and its bindings, but he calls back over his shoulder.
"You all hearing this?!" Cole booms, trying to make sure he's heard over the commotion. "Khyber's general?" he looks up at the dragon, "But who would try to do this? And if we can't stop the device, how can we stop the spirit from returning?"
"Kill the dragon first?" Rehil responds. "That's all I can think of."
"Dragon, do you know Professor Targryn?" Nalverren asks.
"You can try, pointy-ears! Anyway, kill me and you will definitely all die - the system monitors my vital signs and will detonate prematurely if it looks like I'm in trouble. You have to disable it.
"Professor Targryn? Sounds like you are making progress. You need to convince the system you are him. There is a device to read your handprint - you need to fool it."
Judging by the readings on the dials, the actual necromantic effect is something of a sort that you have not seen before. Although it involves the general broadcast of negative energy, it would appear to be a very narrow part of the spectrum. Most practitioners don't have much use for this level of specificity - negative energy is dangerous in most of its manifestations and when dealing damage with it through a spell this level of finesse is not normally required. A possible exception might be spells involving fear, but this isn't anything like the right part of the spectrum for that. You rack your brains for anything you can recall from your days in the Academy that might pertain.
"What if we smash the shards all at once? How many are there?"
(+1 more v traps)
"Hold on,"
Vaard switches back to Common,
"How sure are we that the dragon is honest in their assertion that their death would mean the device's detonation?"