I furrow my brow, "So, a Golarion without the Worldwound? Or without the Age of Darkness?
"Seekers between the stars? Are you Desnan?"
I peer again at the mosaic, "How could you break such a terminus? Will this stop the flood of monsters?"
"I have studied this particular branch extensively in the past few days. In that place, a star fell from the heavens onto Kyonin. Other things came with the fallen star...one in particular was a creature from the planet called Aucturn. At the last conjunction between Golarion and Aucturn, it built the Dark Road, and before the conjunction ended other beings of Aucturn were able to traverse the Road to that Golarion.
"Now another conjunction approaches, and with it the Builder of the Road will be able to...I suppose the best analogy is that it will be able to widen the Road it has built, making it easier to travel. For the inhabitants of this other Golarion, the consequences are grave enough, a swarm of Aucturn's dark spawn pouring from a riven sky, but for the wider constellation of branching paths the consequences are immeasurably worse. The Road is, as I said, a place where reality is bent, and even in its current state it distorts the branches around it in a way that promotes rift formation. If it is strengthened any more, the distortion and rift generation will be that much greater. However, killing the Builder before the conjunction begins will end the Road as well."
"Aucturn? What kind of creature comes from The Stranger?"
As you've been speaking, the tiles have returned to Gallowsmith's shape. Suddenly he pauses and puts a hand to his head. "Wait! The Cassissian angel I sent with that group is calling me!" He cups his hands, muttering arcane syllables that resound through the room despite the quiet of his voice, but slide out of your memory as soon as their echoes have died away. A small pinprick of light appears in his cupped hands, then vanishes. He looks off at nothing in particular and says, "He does not belong there, so I am able to call his body home. This gate I have opened will not last long, though. Rashun, please carry him through it; once on our side, I should be able to preserve his body for revivification. If possible, I shall send you reinforcements before the gate closes again."
He returns his attention to you. "This is sooner than I expected, but I fear our need is great--one of those I sent after the Dark Road has fallen. Are you ready to go?"
I open my pack and start piling food into the sacks and pockets therein, "Sure, no time like the present. The path goes ever on..."
I slip a piece of cold venison to Selveshanea, who wolfs it down, "This is a chance to protect the whole world from these things. 'Go where you're most needed', that's what I say."
With that, the mosaic tiles flow and rearrange themselves into a twisted column, which untwists to reveal a forest glade. There is a body on the ground in the center of the glade. The ranger recognizes the approximate area--this is the Verduran Forest, a few hundred miles northeast of Brindin's Ford. Gallowsmith's voice comes from all around. "Pass through quickly, and then through the rift on the other side."
Elesandira and Selveshanea hurry through the untwisted column and find themselves in the woods. As they do so, a Varisian man in a breastplate appears as if from the air. He picks up the body, nods to the pair, and walks back the way they came. If Elesandira looks behind her, she can see a hole in the air, with Gallowsmith's chambers on the other side. As the Varisian carries the body through the hole, it shrinks to a line and vanishes. Turning back to where the body was, the ranger can see a demarcation; looking through the space over where the body was, the forest looks like fairly recent (50-60 years old) second growth after a fire. A cherubic-looking child (whom Elesandira recognizes as the human form of a Cassissian angel) comes into view and beckons to ranger and companion.
Approaching the angel, Elesandira's surroundings change abruptly; now she and her companion are surrounded by second growth, and behind her she can see the forest as it was when she arrived. There are several other people present along with the angel: an unarmored nagaji, a half-orc holding a flail, an Osirian woman, a gnome, and a very odd creature indeed; tall, humanoid, with large and lustrous jet-black eyes, wide-set on its otherwise fine-featured and narrow face and protruding out in hemispheres; its skin is alabaster-smooth and white; and it wears only a narrow band of dull grey fabric around its hips and a belt and pair of boots of the same color. Odd glints on its legs resolve into metal that seems to be embedded deeply into its flesh. For all that it towers over everyone in the party at nearly eight feet tall, its torso is about the same size as a normal human's; the entirety of its height advantage is in its legs. In one hand it holds a crude sword that looks to have been made from a saw, covered with rust spots and green stains.
I look each of them up and down, then realise I should probably be making the introductions, "I just met Prester Gallowsmith, he said you could do with some help."
I pause and run my fingers through my hair, inhaling the sharp forest air and enjoying it after the heat of Absalom, "I am Elesandira," I pause for a second as Selveshanea goes over to the nagaji and starts sniffing him, "and this is Selveshanea."
The gnome stares dumbfounded at the way two of the party disappeared and someone else (with animal companion) appeared. "Ah, ah, ah, I'm Lum, and this is Versey, and if you people could do that why the Hells can't you just get us all out of here?" The pale being with the odd eyes waves a greeting to the new arrivals; its expression might mean anything, though there are transient patterns flickering on the skin of its torso.
Sami steps back, though more out of fear than surprise. He unconciously steps back with one leg to turn his body and provide a more narrow target to the newcomers. His words come out with venom, as if the disappearance of his friends was the fault of the new arrivals. And did the wise master say what he plans to do with our friends?
Besmarial replies, still using a voice mostly like your Gallowsmith, "I will preserve Xavier's body and attempt to arrange for his revivification, and send Rashun back to you once he has accomplished his porter duty."
Sami grunts noncommittally, then reaches a hand out as an offering for Selveshanea to sniff. He grits his teeth at the futility of the situation, then nods to Elesandira. My apologies...Xavier was a friend, and he will be missed. I fear I've let his loss temper my manners. My name is Sami Johoro, and it's a fine thing to meet you. In light of our current situation, we could indeed use your help.
I nod to Sami, "This is a time of dying, it seems."
I shake my head, thoughts thick with bitter memories.
"That's why we're here, right?" I offer a thin smile.
Darc watches the woman and the cat carefully in their initial discussions with his companions. He speaks mainly to himself, "Gorum blessed me, strength, battle, glory." He looks at the place his friends had fallen, nodding slowly as his thoughts of the days events are evaluated.
Turning back, he offers a hand, smiles and says "Darc Elesandira. What cat? Yours?"
"Aye, Darc, 'tis a pleasure."
I click my fingers and Selveshanea comes obediently to heel, "She is a loyal companion."
"You come, others have fallen. Like before." says the half-orc nodding in appreciation of the cat warrior standing there. "Friend" he states, though you are unsure if this is a question to you, or a statement of the strange warrior's relationship with you, or perhaps both.
Besmarial stiffens. Again, Gallowsmith's voice comes from the angel's mouth. "There is a resonance in rift. What is here? Rashun!"
Eretria, from your perspective you can see through the rift into your Golarion, and can even see a little of Gallowsmith's house through the second gate behind Rashun, who's coming back to rejoin you. The inquisitor spins, looking back through the second gate, draws his scimitar, and leaps through the second gate into Gallowsmith's house. With that the borders of the rift shiver, and it collapses to nothing.
Besmarial returns to its normal form. "I have lost contact with Prester Gallowsmith. His last thought indicated he was being attacked in some manner; I do not know more."
Sami's scaled face draws downward in confusion and concern. Rashun...attacking Gallowsmith? But - why? He has been an ally through all of this; had he gone mad? He clenches his fists in frustration, for he knew that no one present could answer such questions.
Besmarial - can you reopen the gate, or open a different sort of communication?
"Perhaps he saw Prester under some other attack and leapt through to defend him?"
"These are strange times. Who is this Rashun?"
Eretria, based on the timing of what you saw through the rift and heard from Besmarial, it appeared that Rashun didn't turn around until after Gallowsmith had spoken his name.
Sami nods, seeming at ease with the observation. Well, that's certainly better than the alternative, though the situation is no less dire.
Elesandira, Rashun was...is one of our companions. He's been with us for some time. I feel at least a small comfort that he is with Gallowsmith, for he's quite capable.
Lum, Versey - now that we've defeated that awful thing; what can you do?
Through Besmarial, Versey replies, "We have to return this to my ship and plug it back into the controller. We'll have to move quickly, though. Spending too much time near the source when it's like this is dangerous. Not as bad as touching it, but still bad. The further away we are the better off we'll be."
"Return now. We done here." says Darc gravely. Another soul has returned to meet Gorrum, as those that fell before did. His mind goes back to that terrible battle, indeed the Gods smile on Darc, the lone survivor. He picks at his teeth, extracting some old flaccid meat, caught there. He examines it in his dirty nails before sucking it offf his finger and down his gullet. He smiles Elesadndria, "Nice."
I turn to Besmarial/Versey, "I must admit, I am lost here: how far are we from the sea?"
I then register Darc's smile with a curt nod.
Elesandira, Versey's speech is incomprehensible to you, and occasionally Selveshanea's ears twitch at a sound you can't perceive. The Cassissian angel can understand it, though, and translates for the party.
"We have a couple of choices. We could go overland, dragging the source behind us so it stays far away and doesn't hurt anyone (at least, once it's been tied to a rope or something). That will take longer and expose us to more attacks. Or we can go back and take the boat. That won't take as long and we won't be attacked, but we'll be much closer to the source during the trip. Which do you think is better?"
"The poison light is stopped by heavy metal. Wrapping it in armor would help--do you have any extra? I had a container that would have helped, but the one who was carrying it fell to an assassin vine."
Sami glances down at his simple garments and visible lack of heavy weaponry, as if to prove his point. He looks up with a grimace and shakes his head.
I shrug and pull at my chainmail, "I'm not quite following this? You need to wrap something in armour?"
It is at this point that Elesandira notices that the party is standing next to what at first she thought was a fallen tree, badly withered on one side. The trunk has split, revealing a volume of damaged wood, in the center of which is a metal cylinder about three inches in diameter by six inches long. Versey indicates the cylinder. "That's what I need to take back to my ship, and these people are helping me. It shines with poison light, though, so touching it--or even being too close to it for too long--will hurt you. Thick metal or dense metal blocks the poison light."
"I got you." I shrug and begin to strip off my armour, putting a travelling tunic from my bag over my undergarments instead.
I shuffle uncomfortably without my armour, feeling exposed, but I hand the heavy bundle of chainmail to Versey.
The alien holds it up and shakes it, turning it from side to side. "It'd be better if it were solid, but this will help some. The light can shine through even small openings, you see."
He waves everyone back from the moonflower trunk and lays the armor out on the ground near it. Taking a branch from the moonflower he steps well back away from the trunk, then looks around at the party. "Does anyone have a mace or club?"
"A crossbow bolt will work, too."
Cutting to the chase: Versey spends some time trying to push around a crossbow bolt with the stick, getting the hang of it before he moves on to the real item. It's clear he wants to spend as little time as possible in proximity to the cylinder. He sprints in with the stick, deftly knocks the cylinder out of the moonflower trunk onto the armor, rolls up the armor, ties it up with a rope, and gets back away from the package in short order.
Sami nods quickly at the notion. Indeed - that may be well worth the time, particularly seeing as how you're so loathe to touch it. He inclines his head to Versey, then turns to Elisandira and smiles, though his is still touched with sadness. Thank you for your offering...I can understand what it means to you, even though I... He looks down at his own, bare chest. ...have armor of a different nature.
Darc watches the goings on with the source of poison light. He offers a prayer for protection quietly to himself.
Lum scratches his head. "Carpentry isn't my forte, but I know a little bit about it. Can any of you folks swim? If the little raft tips over, we might be out of luck."
The next day you set out for Absalom. You do not, however, reach the city, as will be shown shortly....
Sami shrugs, not seeming to understand whether Lum's question is an honest one or to prove the point of their own danger. I swim quite well; and I've learned much about piloting a boat. Though, we'd only a regrettably simple craft. I know a little about making one, having done so already.
"I'm more thinking that getting it off the bottom of the river would be a trick, though the lady's got a good idea."
"Forget water, we take chances with what we fight." the half-orc contributes to the discussion. "No like boat."
** spoiler omitted **
The half-orc's face pales at Eretria's words and the impending trip on water.
Sami nods at Eretria, then puts a hand on Darc's armored shoulder in sympathy. It sounds like that's the best way, then. Now, it's just the matter of crafting a, well...a craft on which we can ferry the cylinder to its final destination. He scans about for some appropriate means and methods, though he knows little of the construction of such a craft.