Welcome to GM Fuzzfoot's 7-00 The Sky Key Solution. Please check the recruitment thread to apply!
Please do not dot in here until accepted as a participant, just to keep things clean and tidy. I will PM players if needed so you won't miss the boat.
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A tall weather-worn elf enters the room. Dressed in beautiful set of silver chain mail, a long-bladed sword hangs from his hip. But it his bow, Yewbranch, which would catch your eye. A beautiful longbow, covered in filigree and polished with different hues, it has struck the killing blow against many of the society's enemies. You may also notice the birthmark on his right arm; almost identical to the holy symbol of his diety - Old Deadeye.
Sursh bows to anyone present. By his side, a large, glossy-coated dog barks in a friendly manner.
As you continue through the gates of Absalom and turn around the wall outside, you arrive at a field. The hustle, bustle, and chatter of hundreds of people surrounds you.
The sun beats down across this muddy plain, a scant five miles from the walls of Absalom. Fellow Pathfinders gather on all sides, including well-traveled field agents and more permanent staff from the Grand Lodge itself. In the center of the field stands a wooden platform, raised some ten feet off the ground. The excited chatter drowns out the buzz of summer insects as the gathered adventurers speculate on what’s to come.
Several vendors have also setup their stands in this area, allowing you the opportunity to make any last minute purchases. One boisterous dwarf covered in various garments and seemingly random items yells out, "Axes, swords, armor! We got it all right 'ere! We take coins, we take Faction credit!"
You may roam along the plain, asking any of the dozens of gathered Pathfinders questions.
Something has been abuzz around the Grand Lodge the past several weeks, keeping many Society scholars and casters busy and away from the public eye. This follows a recent conflict at the Grand Lodge that the Society kept from spilling into the rest of the city.
Supposedly the Society has reassembled the Sky Key, a dwarven relic it started piecing back together a year ago. The Society has been "secretly" buying up large quantities of sky metal whenever it appears in the market. The Pathfinders have also been recruiting dozens of arcane spellcasters, especially evokers.
The Grand Lodge has been importing all kinds of experts on Dwarven artifice, which seems reasonable—but also experts on Numerian science,
conjurers, mathematicians, and even historians who specialize in Absalom’s earliest history.
Apparently today is about a "big test," and it sounds like the Decemvirate needs a large number of assistants to handle whatever happens next.
You might analyze some of the markings on the broad field.
The field has been marked out with a series of circles, which are unusual for social gatherings but standard for arcane rituals.
The assemblage of circles suggests a conjuration ritual, but there are enough variations that even this seems unlikely.
The markings across the field don't align correctly for any sort of magical ritual. It seems to be something completely new.
You might think back to the history of Absalom and observe the field you stand in.
Locals call this field the Bloodwatered Meadow. Many of the invading armies that tried to conquer Absalom assembled here before being defeated.
One of the most famous conflicts here did not even involve Absalom’s army. The Linnorm King Yardvun Skolson clashed with the Thuvian warlord Attagesha hundreds of years ago as both attempted to besiege the city at the same time but refused to share the glory with each. They crippled each other’s forces and were forced to retreat without ever attacking Absalom.
An archeological excavation led by the Pathfinder Society uncovered truly ancient sites in the Bloodwatered Meadow. The exact age is unknown, but several building foundations and pieces of pottery seemed reminiscent of old Azlanti designs.
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Jayori Bissumbhur is a tall Vudran man, with a receding hairline and a gloriously groomed mustache prominent on his upper lip.
He is wearing heavy armor, polished to a fine shine and bearing the symbol of Irori. His weapon of choice appearing to be some sort of trident-like weapon.
He stands in the field with the others, chatting in a friendly fashion with those nearby, waiting and interested to hear what the announcement will be.
"After that business with the Consortium, we certainly could use some good news." He shakes his head slightly, having been here when that last attack occurred.
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Garn wanders around in the crowd. Being rather short in stature, he often is barely able to have a clear view of what is happening. The crowd pressing around him makes him uneasy. He glances down at the small snow leopard padding beside him. "Better stay close, Snowball. Don't want to lose you again in this crowd." The cat snarls in return.
Although short, Garn is well-built and pushes through the crowd easily. His hair is cropped short rather untidily, and like most Kellids, his skin is deeply tanned and covered in scars.
He attempts to listen in to the conversations around, and occasionally tries to ask a few questions to clarify, but his gruff nature turns off most people around him, and Garn is none the wiser about what is happening.
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Large and heavily muscled but dressed in a priest's cassock. Graff makes an unusual sight. His weapon of choice placed down on the floor makes him stand out even without him trying too. The twin blades shines wickely from its resting place as mighty thews hold up the great axe easily. An axe easily over a foot long.
Mixing around and attempting to get more information about this easy going half orc, he tries though there are many that gives him seconds looks or avoids him.
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"Not sure what all the commotion is about." Jayori says. "Some are saying they've finally assembled the Sky Key and might be looking to do something with it."
He frowns, remembering all the trouble the key caused earlier.
"At least we are not doing this in the middle of the Grand Lodge this time." He adds, looking around at the field they are in.
"This area has probably not seen this much activity since Skolson and Attagesha beat each other senseless here centuries ago." He chuckles slightly.
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Dressed in simple rough spun tunic and trousers, this dark haired elf doesn't draw to much attention or stand out among the crowd. He wears a simple belt with a pouch and a rapier hanging by his left hip. He smirks every now and then as if something is amusing.
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The monk wasn't crazy about these mages catching him up in one of their crazy experiments. Taking notes and finding items had done him well so far, but he took a deep breath, got to his feet, and decided that despite the risk, this was an opportunity that couldn't be wasted. He started looking around and jotting down thoughts and observances.
As someone who has 1 of those chronicles mentioned, you are given an elixir that gives the imbiber the benefit of comprehend languages for 1 hour. For use at any time during this scenario.
The stink of animal scat and rotting meat fills this massive cavern. Shelves, passageways, and fixtures have been carved into the wall by careful hands, each stylized to resemble a serpent’s head or body.
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"Lantorth, can you use my Mage Armor wand on me? You can use a charge on yourself if you'd like. Gotta be protected walking into the unknown.". Pau hands the wand over.
Upon receiving the magical protection, he moves to the front of the group. "I'll take the lead. Fall in as you'd like to create a standard marching order."
Pau takes the lead and looks carefully around the room.
Perception
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Garn listens with some trepidation. Much as he has enjoyed travelling the world seeing new sights under his pilgrimage from Desna, the idea of travelling through time seems disconcerting and unnatural. Well, the Lady of the Elk has directed me to travel the world, and the Pathfinder Society has certainly fulfilled that. This be just another journey.
As the caves open up before them, Garn pulls out a wand and uses one charge of himself. He then pulls outs a scroll and casts a spell on Snowball. He then stands silently together with his team, ready to move in.
As the team moves in, Garn calls upon Desna to grant him protection of hardened bark. He then moves up beside Pau.
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Jayori looks around thoughtfully. Not entirely sure how or if they have indeed traveled through time, but taking it in stride for now.
"One would think they'd choose a somewhat safer time period. The serpent folk of the time were not exactly friendly." He says, as he draws his weapon, and moves forward cautiously.
"And they never did say how we are to get home."
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Lantorth uses Pau's wand as directed, tapping the monk on the shoulder to activate the spell before casting his own Mage armor on himself. The elf follows the group into the garden area. Lantorth's nose wrinkles as the smells assault his nostrils, "So far the past stinks," he says as he looks around.
After hearing Jayori's concerns about returning Lantorth tries to put the man at ease. "based on what I saw in the demonstration. We need only step out of the sky key's field of infulence to return to our own tome.
As you begin to explore, Pau comes across some locals. They shout something you don't understand, and the large dinosaur between them charges Pau.
Jayori hits the creature who is a little off balance from his charge at Pau. While a substantial hit, it doesn't appear to slow the creature down.
Jayori slashes the beast and steps back, letting Garn take hi splace and cutting it deeply again. As a magic missile blasts through the crowd to strike the monster, Pau jabs the creature in the side of the head, deflecting the bite attack at the last second. Radagast and Graff stand ready, seeing there is a bit of a bottleneck right now.
From behind the dinosaur, two lizardfolk through javelins at Garn and Pau. Garn's opponent manages to strike him with the missile, but it is turned away by his dragonhide breastplate, causing not even a scratch.
The dinosaur howls in pain, and tries to bite Garn, but the man it too quick and dodges the maw.
Pau drops the beast with a couple of strong jabs to the head, knocking it out. The way is clear to pass by him.