"Well, there are no traps I can see," Crusk states. "Of course, I do better with a lovely barmaid or two."
Crusk then holds Gunnar back. "It is better if we all go together," says Crusk. "Gunnar, wait for the others."
Loxley thought it best to give Bandit and Sazzat space. It was obvious the raccoon was unhappy with her, though not nearly as unhappy as he was with Zeldana still.
Instead she turned to check Corrin as he laid on the ground.
”If it’s down here we’ll find it.”
She tried ro reassure him.
”If not, we will help you hunt it down. I promise.”
She offered the elf a smile and a hand to sit up.
”Are you hurt.”
She asked, checking the druid for any serious wounds.
Sazzat knelt down and faced Bandit as if somehow interacting with the smaller creature through some unsensed medium.
Sazzat thinks to Bandit, 'You picked me?' a more rhetorical question and statment than an actual question. 'Okay yes I have come to realize that you are now something more than you used to be and it would be nice to know who and/or what I am now dealing with. Further I am not sure what you are driving at. I posed a couple of possible reasonings but you did not say either one of those is relevant which would imply that neither is relevant. Either that, or you are purposefully being obtuse because you have to be. So is that something you can impart without breaking whatever restrictions you have on giving straight information... that you have to be obtuse?'
Crusk came to the realization that adventuring was hard work. He nearly lost his voice performing the song of courage. But he had to find his father, and Lady Loxley, Sazzat, and the others were the fastest way of getting there. Of course, his fellow bards got adventuring all wrong. It wasn't about derring do, rescuing the damsel, or getting the girl.
Crusk realized he put his life on the line, and his fellows had to depend on his singing. And all he wielded was a rapier. Could he handle a rapier? The Lady Loxley was certainly attractive for a human. He sighed, as much as he acknowledged the now Empress of Cheliax as being attractive, he knew that he wasn't physically attractive. He could definitely pass for an ugly human, that's for sure.
He wanted to know who his father was. If that meant putting his life on the line, than so be it.
After having interposed himself between Bandit and Zeldana and asking Zeldana to back off, he picks up Bandit and moves further away, back in the direction from whence they had come in order to spend some time helping Bandit understand that Zeldana was not an enemy but a friend that simply utilized the same source of magic as the enemy.
Crusk tries to follow Gunnar, wondering if he was planning restraint. Crusk looks around carefully.
Crusk then waits for Sazzat and Lady Loxley.
Gunners quick healing earlier had done wonders to the ripped and torn face of the young druid... he stared at the 2nd destroyed mask slightly rocking on the ground. He glanced up to Loxley it was unclear if he had heard her.
"Im pretty far from okay.... I can fell it.... slipping from my hands like sand through your fingertips. Violance only stretgthens the unspeakable. I hasten our doom it seems with each trial we come across. But i have to fight.. thats the rub of it. If i die its just as over. Whaveever it was you did... dont do it again. I dont think my mind could stand the strain of it."
He rose grabing the ripped mask it was after all a gift made by his friend. and his spears.
"We shouldnt dally. We have to fins the body of The kinslayer... and we should recover that treasure. I think we all need to ....."
He looked at his trusty spear sadly
"Strengthen ourselves for whats to com."
you fall in behind gunnar and crusk, with the sounds of thunder filling your ears. the tunnel descends, curving to the left.
downward you descend, each step pushing you through cobwebs and dust. the sound growing louder and louder, until finally you see daylight before you.
Beyond, far out, you see nothing but blue skies and blue waters. dotting the surface of the water, you see streaks of white, some of them taking up the entire entry from left to right. The thunder is indeed the sound of waves crashing upon the rocks, how far below you are not sure.
"Wow, look at that," says Crusk. "We must be outside, somehow." Crusk is surprised that the tunnel must have taken them outside of the castle. It still means that whatever is waiting for them, is still waiting for them.
Sazzat, carrying Bandit, follows the others at the end he asks, "So is this anywhere near where that treasure is supposed to be located, perhaps?
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Gunnar, who has been developing a slight discomfort in high places, takes a step back and says "Well, that solves this particular mystery. It's... a bit more peaceful than I imagined." He pauses to recollect himself then says "It is indeed, one of the wonders of travelling. Being scared of nothing scary, you see... I suppose this is one of Desna's surprises. But, I wonder why this passage exists. Is anyone here a good tracker?"
Crusk shakes his head with a no to the question, is anyone here a good tracker?
Yeda keeps her blade in hand as they proceed down the hidden passage. She's as surprised as anyone when it ends at open air.
This is what was hidden behind the panel? with equal parts confusion and disappointment.
It must have had some specific purpose. She peers over the edge, and investigations the area that ends the passage for signs of that purpose.
She looks to Zel and Loxley, Can you sense any particular magic present here?
Having paid attention to the path that had led them to where they are, Sazzat tried to ascertain where they were in contrast to the bridge that gave access to this sort of island.
Loxley looks at Yeda after taking a moment to concentrate. She shakes her head in the negative No. nothing.
Zeldana nods i concur. I detect nothing
THe last few feet lead down the corridor onto a natural formation. A large slab of rock juts far overhead, shielding the rock you stand upon from rain, while you stand high enough to remain dry from the continuous waves the buffet the island below. To the left and right it extends another 30 or so feet. To the left, the remains of dried stunted brush and trees, while to the right, hidden behind more shrubs, you notice a skeleton.
Crusk examines the skeleton the best he knows how.
Yeda was never fluent in the ways of her peoples' medicine men and women , but she could sometimes sus out the particulars of a past encounter based on context clues. Of course much time might have passed, or the skeleton may soon stand and attack them.
Indeed, much time had passed...
Further is this at the dungeon level 1 or 2 or more?
I am just trying to understand in relation to the rest of Thistletop where this is located and perhaps what the path looked like for getting to where we are now at.
Sazzat says, "Well it appears this face out in a northernly direction or basically opposite from the bridge that gave us access to this... isle if it can actually be called that."
Crusk says, "So, what now? This place is definitely peaceful."
"Well there is that treasure cave, I wonder if it is near this position. Other than that we head back up and finish going over this place with detailed scrutiny. I mean heck it could be made into a quality base of operations, assuming its not going to continue to fall apart like it just did."
He began to look around while the others looked at the skeleton. A cave beneath the lair above... interesting and there were good odds the treasure was that was mentioned in the dwarven journal above might be about somewhere he looked for signs of something hidden slavers were like pirates right? and pirates buried their loot.
"Does this not seem strange?" Crusk asks. "I mean the skeleton, the tropical air, did we go through a gate to get here?"
Pokes about the cave studying everything.
The Lord Mayor of Sandpoint, Lady Kendra Devrin, stared at the man standing before her. Her mouth hung open, taken aback by what was just spoken in her conference room.
say that again, Anx she asks, bewildered.
We cannot resurrect Jorn. Anx says simply.
Why? Lady Devrin asks, while others in the large room ask as well.
why not zeldana asks sharply
Why not Jorn's mother Aibhnichean asks with equal intensity.
Huh? the man who inhabits Jorn's body, lowering his cup of liquor to the table.
Anx looks around the room at everyone gathered. Father Zantus, the Saviors of Sandpoint, a bard named Crusk, the lords of Sandpoint, and the Lord mayor crowded the large conference room inside the Sandpoint town hall.
Technically, jorn isn't dead. the village wizard waves his hand at "jorn". while ive never cast the actual resurrect spell myself, ive seen it cast first hand several times. It is a very complex spell to cast even in perfect conditions. But, there are requirements that have to be met before being able to cast the spell.
yes, but we have the rod- Father zantus chimes in, only to be cut off Anx
yes, we have the ability to cast the spell.... but Jorn, per how the spell works, is already, alive
Everyone turns their gaze to the new town drunkard.
what? he belches loudly, before turning his bloodshot eyes at Loxley and winking with a haggard smile. It was still a couple hours before noon, and already he was drunk.
Indeed Lady Deverin agrees with a frown. Explain. she instructs Anx.
The spell requires a bit of the deceased individual's body, and must have died within a certain time limit, dependent upon the caster's strength. With me so far
most of the heads nod, with slight confusion upon their faces.
from this bit of the deceased's body, the spell is able to reconstruct the departed's body, and inject said body with the soul.
Everyone nods, understanding this part of the description.
Anx waves his hand at the drunkard.
The man belches loudly.
Make sense now? anx asks
The room fills with silence as everyone looks at each other questioningly.
Father zantus? surely-
Oh no, Anx. I have no idea what youre talking about. The priest interjects.
third rate priest. why you got this appointment anx says rudely. The soul of this man is tied to this body now. Even if we killed this man here and now, there is a chance that would raise this man into this body and not our beloved Jorn.
the room grows silent again.
That is a risk i am willing to make Lady Aibhnichean says angrily, looking at the drunk with absolute hatred.
Zeldana's mouth opens to say something, but clamps shut.
But there is a more pressing question that has to be answered. anx says, looking directly at Father Zantus.
The priest of Desna opens his mouth, only to slap it shut with an audible click.
anx remains silent, looking at the man.
Oh you cant be serious. Zantus asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
anx again remains silent.
The man doesn't have a right to-
he is here because of luck, is he not, priest of desna?
what? what is it lady Deverin asks with the proper tone of command befitting her station.
Father zantus slumps in his chair, defeated. Anx is saying that even if we were to kill this man to bring back jorn, do we have the right to do so?
"Uha... I might have a suggestion that could help..." Zeldana spoke up, her voice low at first. "Father Zantus, you said both souls are bound to the body correct?" She inquired to first ensure she had understood correctly.
Zantus blinks. His gaze softens. The last several weeks had been rough on the young maiden. yes child. The soul of Jorn was birthed in this vessel, and from this vessel it had been released. This man, though only having been in it these last seven weeks, has, i am sure, been bound to this mortal vessel.
"Then what we need, is just a piece of the body." Zeldana stated as if it was obvious. "The spell forms the new body from the piece of the old, and the original version does not vanish. So, though it will cause some pain but it is better than dying I would think, we cut off a finger from Jorn's currently occupied body wait an hour or so to get past the time a finger could be reattached use the finger for the spell. Since the spell would seek a soul on the other side of this plane, the only soul it could return is Jorn's true soul since this soul is on this plane. The new body will be formed, and Jorn would live again." Zeldana explained, her tone even like she was teaching a class. "As much as I believe his soul should not be in that body, it is not his fault. Should he suffer death for simply being in the wrong place? Be it luck, fate, or just ill chance, he had no say in the matter. Murdering an innocent man need not be done, we get Jorn back, and if this soul is willing to trust us, I even have a plan to turn this body into one of his own. So it does not look like Jorn."
Crusk sits still. He knew Zeldana's reasoning made sense. All they really need is a piece of Jorn's body to resurrect him. How they were going to get that piece made him shudder.
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Gunnar, the young Desnan priest who was once Father Zantus' apprentice, looks at people talking and is very confused. Souls and gods' businesses was complicated, indeed. Yet he put himself through the study and felt some responsibility to speak.
He could not follow Zeldana's logic. Considering Jorn's soul was already bound to a body, casting a resurrect spell on a piece of his original body would not necessarily yank the soul from the current body. However, he starts to doubt himself and thinks maybe he's not as knowledgeable as he thinks. Zeldana has already proven very versatile and clever.
He looks at Father Zantus hoping for some wisdom, but says "We've acquired the rod with great difficulty. Surely it is worth a try." He is not sure what he means by 'it'.
Loxley tried to reign her emotions as she stood off to the side, listening to the others.
She understood what Anx was saying, spells had limitations. Arcane or divine in nature, if the caster wasn’t strong enough, no spell could surpass those limits…
Although, if they were strong enough… even gods may be weary.
But that was neither here nor there. These times of trial had their limitations, and none here could surpass them.
Absent-mindedly, she reached out to pet the comforting fur of the group’s mascot. Bandit had been hanging around her more than usual. Perphaps her friend’s companion could sense the turmoil in her mind and sought to be companionable.
Or, perhaps it was because the little scamp knew full well she was an easy target to get table scraps from.
Loxley caught the drunkard’s wink and caught herself beginning to roll her eyes. She stopped herself and refocused on the conversation.
She nodded in response to Bandit’s affirmation.
”He’s done nothing wrong himself.”
She sighed.
”To take his life would be irredeemable. And as it pains me to say, I can’t imagine Jorn would feel justified in spending a life to pay his back passage back.”
At Zeldana’s suggestion she actually raised an eyebrow.
It was nothing more than a loophole in a contract matter of logic…
But in magic, the gods willing, sometimes that kind of logic paid off.
”Theoretically, it is plausible. Normally I would decry it, but if both souls are linked to the vessel, it’s not unreasonable to consider the possibility that the other soul could be drawn to the newly formed vessel.”
Loxley said, though her tone betrayed a hint of skepticism.
”But, rod or not, such a chance may well rely wholly on the grace of the gods. And if they should choose to be fickle…”
She hesitated.
”Well, let’s just say that simple failure could be the kindest outcome.”
She said somberly.
Like a strange ghost or spirit Corrin sat in the corner of the meeting room crouched down leaning back into the corner idly playing with the tip of one of his spears His mask rest atop his head like a strange mask. Dewdrop was sitting outside placidly in the shade enjoying the salt in the breeze.
His mind wasnt on the problem with Jorn though he supposed it should be. Nothing about the last few weeks made sense to him. so many mysteries so many world chattering complex things. He felt it ... like a faint breeze wafting through a dense forest. the faintest of whispers played on his mind when they spoke of ressurecting Jorn. he was about to vehemently dey killing the drunkard when it was suggested just taking a peice. The faint whispering died down as he felt himself taking a deep breath. He hadnt realized he had been holding his breath.
My people believe there were times when multiple spirits could inhabit one vessel, resulting in great power or wisdom.
She looks at the drunkard inhabiting Jorn, suddenly wishing she hadn't brought it up.
I suppose it could work the other way too, as a burden...
It was beside Zel's very good point that this man hadn't chosen the situation. So even in the traditional instances from shoanti culture one tended to be dealing with two willing spirits. Further, the additional spirit was often long deceased or even of primal or other non-mortal origins.
Yeda feels as though she's snapping back to reality from a prolonged daydream about old times with her clan. She has a sudden urge to be near (or even on!) the sea again. Right now she's comfortably sipping warm tea out of her armor and in baggy, earthy-colored tunic and breaches. Her dirty-blond hair tightly pulled back and anchored by two braided tails. Someone meeting her just like this could not imagine how she looked battling goblins, Nualia or other creatures at Thistletop, much less diving off of a cliff into the water (though her clan brethren could certainly).
Back to reality for now I guess. Seeing my clan must wait.
The man known as not Jorn belches long and loud, an obscene noise that rattles the ears in the large room. The town nobles, and everyone around the table frowns at the man's lack of social graces.
the man smacks his lips loudly as he wipes his hands upon the front of his- of jorns- unwashed shirt. It's been seven weeks since he assumed Jorn's body and the garments that clothed the body, and he hasnt taken them off once.
He smiles at everyone, and pours himself another drink. He lifts the cup to his lips but stops.
Point of order he suddenly says in a rich tone filled with authority and command. You blink in shock! Usually, the man had a dull watery voice as though he was partially drowned. But this, this is different.
You all talk about me as though I am not worthy of this vessel. As though Jorn is someone that is better than I. he stands up, and points at everyone you! do not know me. You do not know my history, who i was, what i was. Hells below, i dont remember who I am.
He looks at Lady Deverin Add to that, you wish to casually remove one of my fingers. Just Cut! he mimics a knife and slices it across his ring finger, and then twists his hand down and wiggles it to and fro, insulting everyone in the room. Cut this off, as if I dont have say to what happens to My body. He stares hard at everyone.
But, as they say down in Port Peril Everything has a price. Well here is my price for my finger. An Arm and a Leg.
he points at Zeldana Your arm.
he then points at Loxley and Your Leg
He's gone Yeda snaps angrily, slamming her fist into the support beam. and he took 12,000 coins worth of copper, silver, and gold.
You all sit upon stacks and mounds of hay in the hayloft of the Goblin Squash Stables. Corrin had spent the night in the hayloft, enjoying the sounds of the animals, and resting with Dewdrop in his stall. He's growing new antlers, and he needs the attention Corrin had explained the night before, excusing himself from the group.
In the morning, the group had come to the Stables to find corrin, and to explain this latest development.
The trip to Thistletop was a huge boon for the party. Not only did you find the rod of resurrection, but also collected a huge treasure of gold, silver, copper coins, rare vase's and art work, scrolls of magic, magical weapons, a suit of chain armor, dwarven rations in jars of preservation, and a treasure chest of holding (unfortunately it was empty).
How much does that leave us? Loxley asks, shifting her rod of ancestors around her belt.
12,000 total. not including the art and the magic items we've already divided up amongst ourselves. Yeda says with a snort.
He left a note though... Zeldana comments to no one in particular. She unfolds a bit of paper and reads;
Im sorry. Evriani knows things. Things about my master that need to be answered. She will pay for what she has done. you have my word. I took half the coin, and the matched daggers of vengeance. Should i meet with you again, i shall repay you all with either the coin, or with Evriani's head.
signed sazzat Zeldana finishes softly.
silence fills the loft
So, Sazzat took off. Corrin says simply, munching on a carrot that he snuck from a horses feed bucket the night before.
+1 dagger of returning
+1 spear of cruelty
+1 chainmail of spell storing
time bomb :
Mouse cart
ring of armoring +1 to AC when spellcaster casts a spell that grants a Bonus to AC.
Perfume of starella's aphrodisiac when used, anyone who finds the character attractive (DM roll) will be considered Friendly for diplomacy checks.
Powder of magic detection small bag with 12 pinches (uses). A pinch of powder sprinkled onto a 2 foot square area will reveal objects as magic, as if the person cast Detect magic.
treasure chest of holding Small chest, 1 foot by 1 foot. same stats as a Type II bag of holding.
Zeldana moved to lean again the door to the room. Cutting off any exit. "But it is not your body." Zeldana firmly stated. "It was never your body, and if we were speaking on just terms alone it would be like finding a gold coin on the road and then finding out who it really belonged to as they have been searching for it. They may have dropped it by accident, but it is still theirs. The fact of the matter is, Just and right are not the same thing. And you are not in Port Peril, you are in a body that does not belong to you and we are speaking on a way to allow you to keep it." She reminded him. "The price so to speak, is allowing you to remain alive. As killing you to get Jorn back, while just, is not what we consider right." Zeldana stated as she crossed her arm.
"You say everything has a price, well then you are in our debt and owe us for you are in a body that does not belong to you. You can either return it to the proper owner and never return, or pay us a finger and get a new chance at life. I do not like the idea of killing you, honestly I do not like the idea of killing over all, and thus have given a plan that would allow all those here to gain with the minimal amount of pain, death, or discomfort. You say I speak as if you are unworthy of that vessel? I do indeed, because up to this point you have done nothing in the slightest that proves you are. You sit here, alive again by pure luck, knowing well it is in a body not for you and think you can make demands?" She inquired with a slight tilt of her head. "That act alone shows you are not worth of that body! How are you not ashamed?"
Somehow despite not seeming to pay attention Corrin suddenly rose sharpened spear in hand. He cracked his neck and nonchalantly slid the mask down over his face.
Now he knew that act was pointless that the mask wasnt even a placebo anymore. He needed to get the enchanted mask asap before he embroiled his soul in darkness, but fake Jorn wouldn't know that... hell real jorn might not. His lip twitched as for a moment audible only to him a cacophony of voices screaming for blood and death whispered in his earsa he shut his eyes and focused them away.
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Gunnar holds his breath after Zeldana spoke. He isn't sure what to think. At first glance, both are right and he can't really conclude whose side to defend. And this is all assuming that her finger plan would work, which he isn't so sure of.
Rather than tackling the moral dilemma, the young cleric tries deflecting his thoughts to something more technical. He tries to remember if there is precedent to this attempt.
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Loxley shook off the surprise at ‘not Jorn’s sudden articulation.
Perhaps it was the liquid courage he had been steadily imbibing that finally reached some critical point that drew out this noble indignation. If it had been only a few days earlier and the arcanist may have had a fire of her own to reply with, but at this point she just couldn’t seem to find it in herself to be more than just fed up.
She started to rise in order to give the man a sharp retort when Zeldana quickly replied.
Loxley couldn’t help but be impressed by her friend’s self control. She was sure that everyone could feel the anger buried under her unyielding, though not entirely unsympathetic, tone. It was a fierce reflection of the witch’s character that even at a time like this she could remain collected.
When she spoke, Loxley attempted to share Zel’s calm, even if she couldn’t summon the same level of anger. Mind you, she had her own anger, but it wasn’t directed at this man.
”You say we don’t know you, but do you truly know any of us? We have all been through trials and tribulations of our own.”
Loxley said as she petted Bandit.
“You would make light of their losses to spout your self-righteous indignation when we have clearly stated that we have no intention to sacrifice you.”
She tilted her head slightly.
”Zel is right, you speak of prices to pay but what do you think you owe for that vessel you currently walk in? And think how grateful they may be if you were to voluntarily help to return their loved one to them.”
Loxley eyes ‘not Jorn’
”Trust earned can be a rich commodity and services rendered can be fairly compensated.”
’And trust broken can be a hard blow to the spirit.’
She thought bitterly as the morning following their trek back into Thistletop returned unbidden.
"You should donate willingly," says Crusk. "After all, do you know who you are talking to? Mister Jorn?"
He turned to Loxley. "Well, what are you going to do? Lay violence on the man?"
He turned to Loxley. "Well, what are you going to do? Lay violence on the man?"
Loxley Gaines Crusk a look.
”Of course not.”She sighs and looks back at the others.
”I am but a spectator, offering her opinion.”
She frowns.
”I hold no true claims in this, other than the feelings of my friends. In the end, I can make no decisions. I can only hope for the best.”