Calla snorts at Bruendor's comments.
"Not all of us. I experienced worse than that before I turned 6..."
"What I need most is some way to be stronger, faster, better... Magic belts can allow that. If that's not possible, I'll settle for a bane baldric, to further Calistria's aims."
Eviana sent you on your way to be tended to by the healers and clerics in the camp. Within the hour, Bruendor and Anklebiter are looking at solid, non-translucent skin once more, and Lefrik feels back to his robust self. An elf led you back to your quarters to rest, with the news that Eviana was planning a celebratory banquet for the next day, and that you are invited as the guests of honor.
The fighting in Celwynvian wasn't over - pockets of drow and demons still inhabited the ruins - but for the most part the enemy forces were broken. Bands of elves scoured the ruins that night and int the next day, routing out the holdouts, and freeing the ancient city from their evil presence. More than a few captives were led back to the camp, and these proved to be a font of useful information.
The next day, as the afternoon waned into evening, the grand pavilion of Eviana's council was alive with celebration. As you arrived, a polite round of applause greeted you. Far from the dichotomous reception you had at the war council at the start of the battle for Celwynvian, approval of you and your activities now seems to be unanimous. Even Kaerishiel was smiled as he greeted you.
As the meal wound down, Eviana stood, and the tent went hushed. She said, "I want to extend my gratitude to all of you who led the fight against our dark brothers. Especially, I wish to thank our heroes from Riddleport. They had reason enough to dislike the plans the drow had in place, but no real need to help us as they have. When I say that we could not have rid Celwynvian of the drow's influence without them, I do not think that I am exaggerating."
"The hold of the dark elves, our fallen kin, over the Jeweled City is broken, and within days we shall be able to begin rebuilding the elven nation that once called this place its home. This could not have been done without Calla, Lefrik, Kelendra, and our least likely of allies, Bruendor and Anklebiter. These men and women went above and beyond the call of mere mercenaries to truly fight the evil they saw and protect the elven people, and the world at large from the plans of the dark elves. A second Earthfall was prevented - or at least delayed - by their actions. Please join me in expressing our gratitude."
A polite round of applause once more filled the open air tent. You looked around at the elven faces, varying degrees of pride and embarrassment filling your thoughts. As you did, you noticed a group of elven pages bringing in a set of wooden platters, the wood stained so dark it was almost black. This set off the shining items laid upon them.
"When we asked you to join us in this fight to drive the dark elves from this city, you were promised reward, akin to that of the Shin’Rakorath. Yet, repeatedly your actions went above and beyond those of even our own elven mercenaries. You even saved the lives of Shalelu, Kaerishiel, and their fighters more than once, even unto traveling into the shadowy pocket dimension of the Armageddon Echo to stop the plots that were driving the occupation of Celwynvian. For these reasons, and countless others, we have decided to reward you, not in kind as was first promised, but in excess."
She turned to the pages and motioned for them to present their items. Each page moved to stand at the right hind side of you, and leaned forward to present your gifts.
For Calla, there was a belt of woven silver, leaves and runes intertwined in a fascinating pattern. If she was interpreting the meaning correctly, the belt enhanced the wearer's own strength and fortitude.
For Lefrik, the item was a cascade of green and brown material that looked like leaves, but felt like silk. The silver clasps of the cloak bore the symbols of clarity and regeneration.
Kelendra looked down at a circlet of woven silver, embedded with lapis and topaz. The designs woven into the circlet spoke of calm, compassion, and wisdom.
For his part, Anklebiter had to stand in his chair to see what the tall elf was holding, despite the man's bow. The goblin's eyes widened as he looked on a short rod, as thick as both his thumbs together and about as long as his forearm. The braided leather covering was dyed a bright blue, and the runes spoke of duration. Beside the rod, in a small bowl, were a trio of pearls, one larger than the others.
Finally, Bruendor looked up, not knowing what to expect, as he had asked for nothing of note. The tray beside him was the largest, and the page that held it was obviously struggling to hold it out away from his body. A breastplate lay upon it, but instead of gleaming like most elven armors, this one radiated shadow. It was almost hard to focus on the armor, the way it seemed to bend light from itself.
There were murmurs all around the table as the items were presented, and Eviana simply beamed. "We hope that you will accept our offerings to you, and that they will serve you well in the days to come."
Anklebiter whistles between his teeth as he slowly, reverently, lifts the priceless item from the bowl and holds it aloft. He handles the Pearls with equal awe, hiding them about his person with care, and then bows to the gathered Elves.
Anklebiter bows again, then continues in less grand tones: "There is much still to do, mind. Nolveniss lies dead, but his mistress remains. Yes. I wish you the best of luck with the rebuilding here, but I do not think we will stay too long. Much to do. Yes."
Anklebiter's comment causes Kaerishiel, Shalelu, and Eviana to look at each other significantly, but nothing is said.
Calla smiles, a hint of warmth even creeping into her expression, as she takes the belt.
"As Calistria teaches us, 'I am the instrument of my own justice. If I am wronged, I will take vengeance with my own hands,' " she says. "The drow did harm to us and we repaid it."
Bruendor's eyes widen as he picks up the suit of armor. "Now that is fine craftsmanship," he says with clear reverence in his voice. He too turned to Eviana and bowed.
"I echo my friend Anklebiter's words. I thank you heartily for this reward, but reward was not why we fought the drow and beheaded the snake Nolveniss. This gift, though, will help us in our continuing struggle against them, and for that, I am truly grateful."
Even Kaerishiel was smiled as he greeted you
Lefrik actually smiled back, "You seem in much better health."
He enjoyed the meal, and laughed at jokes, engaged in the moment boisterously, but quieted as the queen began to speak.
When his own gift, was given, Lefrik took it out with reverence.
It seemed so fragile in appearance, yet felt so strong, "I do not speak your beautiful tongue. So let me just say, I shall treasure this to the end of my days. Glory, once found, stays with a man to those last days, be they when his bones grow weak with age, or if he die by the sword the next day. This shall be a reminder of a time I walked among the bright folk, and they called me ally and hero. I thank you for that."
Kel fails to surpress of little squeal of excitement as she gingerly picks up the headband. "It's beautiful, thank you!"
Turning to Anklebiter, she lowers her head toward the little goblin. "Anklebiter, will you hold my hair back and down so I can place this headband properly? Yes, I know you're a goblin, but I'm afraid Lefrik might get the wrong idea, beardless is the wrong one for anything hair related, and Calla will just pull on it until it hurts."
Eviana smiled at the excitement and gratitude you showed for her gifts. The party wound down, and as everyone was standing to leave, she said, "My new friends, if you would please stay. Shalelu, Kaerishiel, and I have something to discuss with you."
As the rest of the guests departed, Eviana signaled to the servers to lower the flaps on the tent. Within moments, you were in a pocket of calm amidst the furor of the war camp. Camp noises from outside were audible, but very muffled, as if you had clapped your hands over your ears. Eviana indicated for you to sit once more, then did so herself. The rangers followed suit.
"What I am about to tell you is to be kept in the surest confidence. The elves as a people know much about this, but it is not for the ears of outsiders. You, of course, have shown your trustworthiness in these matters."
"What you have told me of the preparations and plans of the drow wizard Nolveniss greatly bothered me. As Kaerishiel and Shalelu were healed of their...maladies, they spoke of a great many things as well. It is disturbing to think that our ancient enemy, who is also our closest kin, may indeed be planning to bring about another age of cataclysm. We have also interrogated a number of prisoners, who speak of another name, one forgotten to all but the oldest of elves. Allevrah Azrinae."
"She was once a proud member of good standing of the Elven Court who, through machinations and ill-intent of her own, turned into that which she once despised. A drow."
Seeing your look of surprise, she added, "Oh yes. You see, the drow aren't a separate race of elves, or at least they didn't start out that way. The first drow came about when elves of the light turned to wickedness within their own hearts, and began practicing vile acts. Through that transformation, they lost the sight of the sun and stars, and took themselves to the Darklands, where the taint of evil breeds true to this day. Even now we lose a handful of elves, mostly the young, to the foul taint every decade. That is one of the purposes of the Skin'Rakorath. To track down news of these drow and eliminate them, lest the entire world know of our shame."
At this last, Kaerishiel nodded with a slight smile on his lips.
"Now, though, we have a potential solution to an age-old problem. You see, through various divinations and magical spells, we have unraveled the mystery of the two portals in the Academy. Of course, you know of the one that generated the Armageddon Echo. We believe that Nolveniss and his mistress took an existing portal, whose activation mechanism was destroyed in the Cataclysm, and used a piece of the Cyphergate from Riddleport to create the dimensional pocket you defeated the wizard in."
"The other gate, though, once led to Kyonin a capital of the elven people. To bring forth her armies, Allevrah and Nolveniss corrupted the gate, so that it now leads to the drow city of Zirnakaynin, deep in the Darklands. And this is our opportunity."
"You see, I do not doubt that Allevrah will be continuing her plans to destroy the surface of the world. Despite your separating her from her pet wizard, the prisoners tell us that a wealth of information was already sent back through the portal to the drow city, and she may have learned more than enough to continue to enact her plans. You saw what a relatively small stone did to Riddleport, and you know your own history. We cannot allow the drow to call up another Earthfall."
"With Celwynvian reclaimed, and the portal due to recharge in the next day or so, we have the perfect opportunity to send forth agents into the city of Zirnakaynin to gather intelligence and to disrupt Allevrah's plans. And that brings us back around to you."
"The five of you are uniquely suited to this task, as you are competent, resourceful, and above all, intelligent. Also, you are not elven. You see, proximity to the drow and their vicious evil appears to ... increase the chance of a surface elf to succumb to the twisting. As you are not elves, you would not be subject to this phenomena. Not even the half-elves among you. And finally, to be forthright, you are better than our best. Even Kaerishiel admits that none of his men could stand up to you in a fight, even if they outnumbered you two to one."
"So, I must ask you again if you would be willing to render aid to me and my people, and to all the peoples of the world. Will you take disguise, go to the depths of the enemy's lair, and befoul her plans?"
"I will need a couple of days of preparation-time," Anklebiter says. "Nolveniss' book gives me a better insight into illusions. I must use it to craft disguises for us. Also, I must study all information you have about the Darklands and about the Drow city in particular. I will go - but I must go prepared."
Turning to the others, Anklebiter politely waits for their reply.
Eviana looked worried at Anklebiter's comment. "A day we can give you, two at most. But the drow will certainly be suspect if they hear nothing from Nolveniss for much longer than that. On the disguise front, though, we can certainly help. We have an...expert...who can magically disguise you. The drow are an intelligent and deeply suspicious people, who are no strangers to deceptions. Mere illusions or simple transmutations won't stand up to scrutiny. Our plan involves something with more longevity and subtlety. Something more unorthodox."
"Ah," Anklebiter says. "That is good. In that case, I have an urgent task to start. Our scout needs rebuilding. I am going to need a few things."
Bruendor's surprise at Elvana's revelation about the true nature of their foe is evident, and he remains silent while she explains in detail. "So what you're saying," he says slowly. "Is that every elf on the planet has a chance of becoming a drow? And the person responsible for Skyfall, for bringing the akata to Golarion, for all of our hardships - she used to be a highly placed member of your Court?" He swallowed, betraying the gravity of the situation.
"Alright, this has gone from bad to worse. The enemy not only hates us all and wishes us dead, but has intimate knowledge of your operation. And we only know what we've been able to glean from coerced reports and magical observation. So, what's the plan?"
"We sneak in and fix her quiet-like, destroy all Nolveniss sent her and all the rest they want to use to bring down another Starstone, I think. Different from our usual way, but I think we can be stealthy if we try."
"Most of us can, at least," Bruendor says deadpan, pointedly not looking at Lefrik.
"What Bearless said. Either way, though, if I get the chance to kill more drow ... well, I still owe them and if helping you lets me get more payback, so be it. I suspect Calistria will be just as happy to offer payback to any who've turned their back on her faith as well," Calla says. "What type of disguise do you have in mind?"
I'll need to get some more arrows before we go, though...
The revelation that drow are good elves gone bad like it was some sort of sudden plague stuns the Ulfen for a moment. He had thought their part in this was over, but clearly it had only just begun.
One thing truly concerned him...
"I admit, I have doubts," Lefrik says scratching his chin, "I am no actor. I do not even bluff that well at cards. Others in my group may have a better knack for it, but I worry I may fail if I attempt it."
"It doesn't take that much skill to be a drow. Simply pretend to hate everyone and everything around you," Calla observes "Keep your mouth shut and follow my lead and we should be fine."
"It doesn't take that much skill to be a drow. Simply pretend to hate everyone and everything around you," Calla observes "Keep your mouth shut and follow my lead and we should be fine."
"Do you have any new advice?" Lefrik mutters.
"The disguise is magic, of a sorts, though of a higher nature than a simple illusion or transmutation spell. It will affect not only your appearance, but also give you drow-like abilities. We have a visitor with us, one you have not yet met. He is an...elf...by the name of Giseil Voslil. We will meet him in the morning to discuss the details of what he can do for you. As for your scout, if you can give me a list of materials that you need, we will provide whatever we can."
"I need a mandrake root; mixed clay and ashes; pure spring water; dew of lunary and platinum, and some basic ritual supplies," Anklebiter replies.
He hesitates for a moment, then continues: "How well-stocked are we for magic potions, please? I will of course pay for everything."
"The way you say he is an ...elf, you paused," Lefrik raises a brow, "Is there something we should know about this Giseil?"
"Giseil is not like most other elves. He has a fascination with dark rites and the undead. He is what you might call a necromancer, though he eschews evil entirely. In the division of good and evil, he would straddle the line exactly, I would think. He is neither of the light, nor of the dark, but something in between. Still, I would not recommend his services if I thought that they would harm you, or us. You will meet him in the morning. For now, let us gather the materials that Master Anklebiter needs and retire for the evening. "
"What potion are you interested in Master Anklebiter?
"I wish to reconstitute and improve upon my Duchess. For her, I should like to order ten potions of Invisibility. After she is restored, there is another design I should like to put in effect for our journey Below. For that... Ten potions of Darkness and ten of Faerie fire -- provided such things are available."
The Ulfen nods at the explanation about the elf, though necromancy makes him nervous, at mention of potions he pipes up, "One or two healing potions in case a wand runs out might be good."
"One or two healing potions in case a wand runs out might be good."
"The wand did run out, so perhaps we could get a wand of healing as well?" Kel adds sweetly.
"One or two healing potions in case a wand runs out might be good.""The wand did run out, so perhaps we could get a wand of healing as well?" Kel adds sweetly.
"I'm afraid that's my fault, Kept getting holes in me," The barbarian almost looks sheepish about it
"Once I have even a little time, I will try to do something about that," Anklebiter says, pained.
"Not your fault, Anklebiter," Lefrik puts a hand on his shoulder, "I need to learn to get out of the way better," He winks
"I shall see what I can do. But, again, I must warn you that our window for this deception is small. For every day that passes, your chances of making it through the portal and to the city of Zirnakaynin unmolested get smaller and smaller. But, enough for now. More time to talk in the morning, after you have met with Giseil Voslil."
The night passed uneventfully, and though each of you have reservations about the coming mission, you also have the desire to see it through. It was more than the thought of vengeance, or of doing the right thing. You saw the fate of the world in the hands of these dark elves, these creatures of evil, and it didn't sit well with you at all. Finally, each in your own way, you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
The morning dawned with the sounds of an active camp still around you. The major battle for Celwynvian may have been won, but there were dwindling pockets of resistance. Soon after you had woken and served your morning ablutions and preparations, there was a handclap outside your tents. A young messenger was there to take you to meet with Eviana.
The elven leader stood outside her tent, along with Kaerishiel and a dusky-skinned elf of middling height and years. Kaerishiel waved in greeting, then said, "My friends, allow me to introduce you to the famous, or infamous, Mordant Spire wizard, Giseil Voslil. He has long been a friend of the Shin'Rakorath and is the most skilled necromancer I have ever seen."
The dusky-skinned elf nodded brusquely, then said "Come along, then" as he turned and walked towards a set of tents near the healers.
Kaerishiel shrugged and followed, leaving you to follow along in his wake. As he walked, he said, "Gisieal specializes in spells utilizing the bodies of the dead to achieve effects that do not involve undeath. In essence, he has discovered a spell that disguises living creatures with the flesh of dead bodies, imbuing them with some of the abilities of the once-living people. He calls it recorporeal incarnation, but do not let the name fool you. This is not the typical reanimation spell. Gisiel can give you more information about it...assuming he chooses to."
Inside the tent that Gisiel led you to is a row of tables. Upon each table is the body of a drow, two females and three males.
The necromancer said abruptly, "I assumed you would have issues with changing sex as well as bodies, so I managed to get the right ones prepared. Please do not make my work for naught. Do youhave any questions before we begin?" He glared around as if daring anyone to ask any questions.
"If we come back alive, would you be amenable to some conversation?" Anklebiter asks. "You seem very interesting. I would love to learn from you."
It was more than the thought of vengeance...
No, no it isn't. It's definitely the thought of vengeance, Calla thinks as she drifts off. Damned drow messed with me, and Calistria teaches that a turned cheek only gets slapped again. Slap back harder and you will have no reason to turn your cheek.
"Our own bodies will be returned to us after this? I have no desire to go around like looking like that..."
"Conversation? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Perhaps you will not come back, or perhaps I will be gone from the place, and returned to the Mordant Tower. Much can happen in time."
"As for your own flesh, it will return when the spell is ended. The recorporeal incarnation spell is long lasting, but not permanent. The binding lasts for approximately thirteen weeks, as long as the focus objects remain on your person. You can, of course, remove the focus to return to your natural forms at any time, but once it is done, the spell ends."
"Is there anything we should look out for in particular to disrupt the Earthfall? So we will better know what we see when we see it?" Lefrik tries not to dwell on the necromancy of this disguise they'll be trying on. Ugh. To think, at one time, any magic made me skittish, but now i'm allowing this.
"How should I know about what to look for? Ask one of the others. Now, are you ready for the spell or not? Time's a wasting, and these bodies aren't getting any deader!"
Anklebiter stands on his tip-toes and looks over the bodies with an appraising eye.
"This one," he says, tapping one of the dead on the forehead with his fingertip. "This one for Anklebiter, please. Do I need to take off my clothes and things so they don't interfere with the transformation?"
Bruendor's face threatens to crack with the depth of the scowl he bears when he hears how the necromancer plans on disguising them. "Just when I thought this whole affair couldn't get more distasteful," he grumbles. "Here's another question - will we look exactly like these indies? Or just some random drow? Because if it's the former, we're going to need to be careful about running into people that knew them before they died, and if it's the latter, then we'll need a good cover story on how we escaped and the like."
"As I said before, you will take on their corporeal forms. These were chosen specifically for their relatively low standing in drow society, those that would neither be missed nor recognized. of course, there is always the possibility of running into someone that knew these forms before. Yes, you had best work that out amongst yourselves."
As he was talking, the necromancer moved to Anklebiter. "Here, take this and put it on. Keep it touching your flesh at all times. If you remove it, the spell will be broken. I believe it will answer your questions."
The necromancer placed a pendant over the goblin's head, chanting loudly and holding one hand to the dead drow that Anklebiter had indicated. The spell took effect immediately. The goblin felt as if he had been slathered in thick mud. Looking over at the drow on the table, he could see ribbons of thick ropy flesh unraveling and spinning onto himself. The others watched in mixed horror and amazement as the goblin was transformed into a medium-height drow, muscled and dark-skinned. When the spell was complete, Anklebiter looked down in amazement as his now way too small garments barely bulged and constricted. Only his magic items seemed to have made the transformation in size with him.
Congratulations! You are now medium size. Please make an adjusted stat block with your new size taken into account. More to come as the others make their choices.
The newly minted Drow slowly rises to his full height, stretches his limbs, rolls his shoulders, wriggles his fingers. He rubs his cheeks and works his jaw.
Finally, he turns his attention to the others - and gives them a crooked smile.
"This may take some getting used to," he says in a pleasant baritone. "Just so long as I don't grow too attached. Good friend Kaerishiel, might I impose on your generosity for a new wardrobe? My own is... not currently up to the task."
Bruendor shakes his head in disbelief as Anklebiter is changed into a drow before his eyes. "This is all madness," he says, rubbing his eyes. "But it's just mad enough that it may work. Do it quick, Gisiel - the sooner you are done, the sooner we can return to our natural forms." Bruendor selects one of the remaining male bodies, selecting almost at random.
"I hardly care which of these I am," Calla says. "Pick one and be done with it, unless Stargirl cares."
Lefrik will take the tallest and broadest shouldered of the dark elf males unless he's already been taken, "This...one?" Wincing at the unnatural nature of all this.
Kel wears the same frozen look of horror through the first four transformations. When it's her turn she gestures to the remaining body. "Let's all agree to complete this task with the utmost speed."