GM Kiora's Wrath of the Righteous

Game Master Kiora Atua

"Heaven's always seemed a bit bureaucratic for me, but going to another plane has always been on my bucket list. Not that I was in that much danger of not getting it done until last year, but still..."

Knowledge Planes: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (12) + 18 = 30

Xanderghul scoffs internally, not letting his lips emit even the slightest frustrated sigh. He had learned that if he expressed his disapproval, then the conversation turned into a disrupted mess.

However, he was disappointed. They could build an entire new section of their town or get the queen to owe them extremely powerful magic and they chose to go to Heaven instead. It seemed that what was going on was that Ary and the others were choosing to turn over the ability to make a decisive strike against the demons into a fun little field trip. What interesting decisions for a "Hero" to make!

Heaven. He was certain it couldn't be quite so enchanting as everyone believed. He couldn't even envision what perfect might look like, let alone imagine that such a place could exist, which meant that Heaven couldn't help but be a letdown. To be honest, with that in mind, a trip there didn't quite seem so useless. It would be rather entertaining to finally witness the absurd farce that he was sure would pass for the Upper Planes. The Lower Planes, of course, were terrible, but they weren't truly that terrible. Creatures existed there - creatures with intentions, creatures who were able to feel pleasure. Xanderghul was able to comprehend existences were those things were not true, so he had trouble imagining that the Upper Planes could possibly be as good as his companions were able to imagine.

Xanderghul gestures towards Valaria, "I can agree with that,". "I can't wait to see how annoyingly long the waits are," he says.

28 Gozran 4715

The heroes may recover 3 MP.

Three days passed since the attack on Nerosyan. Hrut was quietly inducted into the Holy Sentinels to serve to the end of his days - an affair made with little pomp or circumstance, but a sentence that he took with his chin held high. Publicly, however, to appease the angry families of those who lost their lives in the massacre, it was stated that he was condemned to a lifetime in prison. To be true, there was little distinction between the two, but the heroes knew the truth.

The heroes soon returned to Drezen to put their affairs in order before they would make their voyage to Heaven. Once everything was straightened out, they gathered at the Citadel on the roof of the Wizard's Tower, ready to use the scroll of plane shift to teleport into Heaven. It was a cold, cloudy, blustery spring day. The strong winds cause the heroes' cloaks to flap around as they huddle together and await the spell to be cast.

I need Xanderghul, Ehren, Isilme and Ary to finalize prepared spells for the day. I need Ary to finalize prepared maneuvers for the day.

I need you guys to decide if you are bringing cohorts or not, and to finalize maneuvers or spells for them if applicable.

I need someone to roll the check to use the plane shift scroll

Once all of the above are done, and all 5 of you check in, we can move forwards :)

K. Planes v. Heaven: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (16) + 19 = 35

Upon returning to Drezen, Xanderghul busied himself with finding things for his students to do in his absence, and made it very clear that he would be leaving because he was taking a sojourn directly to Heaven. Perhaps people might talk about him while he was gone.

As it drew closer to the day, Xanderghul called upon his powers to supply himself with the knowledge to protect himself from the nature of Heaven. He knew that his own metaphysical nature would conflict with it, and he saw no reason to let himself be crippled by his nature or that of the environment. On the day of, Xanderghul prepares a collection of spells designed to keep himself entertained and to possibly keep nosy angels out of his business. He also prepares to get in places that he shouldn't be, just in case he sees a locked door or "do not enter" sign that looks especially juicy. Then he meets up with the others to take their journey.

Spells prepped: Take a look, it's juicy!

Before!

K(Planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (6) + 18 = 24 BWUH!?

"I..." Ary says, suddenly somehow standing slightly taller, "Heaven..?" She asks sheepishly. "I had intended that perhaps we gain access to some of Ghalcor's notes on the subject... I feel it likely that.." then she pauses, suddenly quite self-aware. In no way had she intended to ask for a trip to Heaven, but that was what they were getting; if Ghalcor's notes had contained such an answer, surely Chevalier Kiarah would have known.

"Thank you, your Majesty." Ary says, inclining her head, a bit more rigid than she had been. "Mmm... there is one more thing, minor, though it may be. My students will be graduating soon, insert day here, and would like to be inducted formally as Crusaders... or at least, some of them would. I know that this is far outside of the norm, but if any of you know of any capable teachers, that we could afford... I was hoping to give them a place closer to home where they could train, in ways that I personally couldn't do - though I do intend to begin teaching myself." she pauses, "And... also, I was hoping for more students..?"

"Oh... and speaking of the Sanctum... we borrowed some scrolls for use in the defense there. Two Heal scrolls for each of the surviving knights, a cure scroll... and something else I didn't catch."

* * *

Between: I've marked up Ary's equipment on the loot doc, blue means I want to double check that it's fully identified, and then we can decide to sell it. I.E.: What is the pull on Alrys's bow, is Skulgrym's axe magical, etc. I'd like to decide to either sell or keep each item before we officially go!

* * *

After!

Spellz updated, added Carry Companion and Keep Watch. Maneuverz updated, swapped Blessed Pinions (exorcism) in exchange for Kill the Wounded. I'll get more post up in a bit, le tired.

K(Planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (14) + 18 = 32

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (13) + 15 = 28

Over the brief time before their departure, Isilme takes some time to identify Skulgrym's axe to aid them in selling it off along with the other things they'd accumulated in the recent past.

Once back at Drezen she takes some time to track down Külə. With the trip to heaven pending, she was hoping it might be a way to help continue to nudge him back towards working towards good for goods' sake instead of merely desiring vengeance against the demons. Having been there herself, it was simply no way to live, regardless of how satisfying it might feel sometimes.

When she finally tracks him down, it is in the copse of trees near the Menhir he has taken as a home. Sitting down next to the resting Unicorn, she places a hand gently on his neck, careful to avoid the worst of the scars and sores that still covered his hide. "Kül, bizə bir lütf qazandırıldı: Cənnət təyyarəsinə tərəf gedəcəyik. Təyyarələrə səyahət etmək çox vaxt alınmır. Məni müşayiət etməyinizi istərdinizmi?"

Waiting on Ehren and Valaria to post. Also waiting on Ary to decide what she wants to do with her lootz. Also, someone needs to roll to actually use your scroll, unless you want to request someone else to cast it for you (that means 1 less person can accompany you)

Before...

Chevalier Kiarah shakes her head. "Ghalcor's research was mostly focused on determining a way to weaponize the ley. Our final findings were that the ley, in certain areas rich with it, could be used to create fantastic defensive artifacts... but as a mobile weapon, it leaves much to be desired."

"You need not worry about the scrolls, I can see that they were used for a good purpose. As for the fighter's school... we can certainly put out a posting for capable educators to relocate to Drezen. Once a school is in place, students will certainly follow. Armasse is only a few months away, after all," continues the Queen in response to Ary's request.

---

The copse of trees near the menhir outside of Drezen is where Külə spent most of his time these days, at least when he wasn't accompanying Isilme in her expeditions out into the Worldwound, or just patrolling the perimeter of Mother Heartwood's influence on his own. This day, he was laying down in the shade of a tree, peacefully watching the day go by. As Isilme approaches, he perks up to receive her, his visor allowing him to at last watch her approach without fear of harming her.

He listens to her request impassively. Not much cheered him up or excited him, not even the prospect of visiting Paradise itself. But, at the very least, he agreed with her. "Cənnət, deyirsən? Güman edirəm ki, fürsəti əldən verməyim axmaq olar."

Val adjusts her cloak around her as the group gathers on the roof of the tower. "While I'm usually the first one to spring for dramatic appropriateness, maybe we could have met somewhere a little less breezy?" she jokes as they huddle together to prepare the spell.

Knowledge Planes: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (2) + 18 = 20

"An isolated, defensible place is best for these types of things," says Xanderghul, checking over the scroll as the group prepares themselves for their journey. "It lowers the chance of a random occurrence ruining it. Imagine if an assailant tackled someone out of the circle, thus stranding them in the Material in the best case."

"We will have quite some distance to walk when we return to the Material Plane. On average, planar travelers end up hundreds of miles away from their destinations. Are we prepared for that?"

"Arı sizi yola gətirmək üçün şəklinizi dəyişdirmək üçün yazını çıxarmalı olacaq. Cənnətə çatdıqdan sonra mən sizə hərəkət etməyiniz üçün yazını geri qaytaracağam. Gedək? Qalanları bizi gözləyəcəklər."

With his affirmative answer, Isilme gets up, waiting for Külə to do so as well, then leads them back to Drezen to the tower.

At the tower
"We have traveled long distances upon Ehren's back before, I suspect we will be able to manage again," she says, giving Ehren a pat on the shoulder and a wink.

"Ary, I have spoken with Külə about the spell. Whenever you are ready to transform him."

Before

Ehren is stunned into silence when Queen Galfrey reveals that she not only knows where they might find the answers they seek, but that retrieving them would involve going to Heaven. Like most mortals, throughout his life, he has only ever treaded on the Material Plane - his brief stint in the River of Souls aside. The prospect of visiting one of the Outer Planes filled him with both apprehension and excitement. Having nothing else to ask of the Queen, he bows his head and says his thanks before their departure.

Upon their dismissal, Ehren immediately seeks out Lann, having left him with Captain Parker and Ser Calain. As chaotic as the intervening battle had been, he did not have the chance to reunite with him sooner. He could only hope that the underfolk crusader fared a little better than he had. Once the entire group is reunited, Ehren is able to provide a thankfully brief return trip to Drezen.

Now

"Er, let us hope it does not come to that," Ehren responds with a sheepish grin. As large of a load as he could carry in his immense heron form, he is not entirely certain he would be able to carry everyone present. Indeed, he had personally invited Lann along again, in part to make up for how their little adventure to Nerosyan had gone south. And with Külə present... Ehren the heron would be liable to crash and burn. "With any luck, we might happen upon a menhir or other ley node."

Spells prepared. Ehren will take the incense of meditation from Ary's inventory.

I need someone to roll to use the scroll of plane shift

Also, waiting on Ary to finalize what she wants to do with her inventory.

And so, this morning was much like the previous two, but casting away the things for which she already had a solution, and adding still more to her prayers and to her notebook. Yesterday's subject had been on her inability to deal with darkness, and so, an hour had been spent in the hidden room, attempting to use her other senses, eyes closed, as she maneuvered as quietly as she could about the room, trying to find each of the pillars within by a mix of memory and what little sound she could make out. The exercise was futile, but a good first step.

Perhaps more worthwhile was the step she had taken towards procuring access to the Darkvision spell for Xanderghul that he might scribe a scroll for her in the coming days. It was an obvious and laughably easy solution to a problem that had expounded itself to the point of taxing the team's resources simply by preventing Hinagiku and Ary from properly exercising their innate talents. A short term solution to be sure, but the long term solution would be... expensive.

Her rise up the wizards tower was spent in meditation on still another topic, one for which Xanderghul had already found a solution for himself: How to prevent the planes from utterly tearing them apart when they inevitably came to arrive on distant shores.

Ary will attempt to buy access to a spellbook for Xanderghul to learn Darkvision to scribe into his book, so that he can make (a) scroll(s) for the team. She will also move the mithral chain shirt (smol) to Fenton, the DEMONBANE arrows to Anevia, and the Holy Longsword to Irabeth. She will sell everything in blue, since no one suggested otherwise!

* * *

Now

Ary inclines her head to Isilme and Kule as she arrives at the top of the tower, amongst the last of her friends to reach the location. For a moment, she ponders how ponderous the climb up the tower had been for Kule, but leaves it out of the conversation. "Yes, I'm ready... it shouldn't take too long for us to travel, assuming that everything works out with the scroll. If it fails, we'll return you to normal immediately and try again tomorrow, I assume?" Ary says, looking to the others, before calling out an incantation, and placing her hand on the unicorn's muzzle, kneeling down as he shrinks, until his entire form is in the palm of her hand. "I wonder if anyone has ever used this spell to save an ally from death or destruction?" she asks of the others, able to recognize every scar in the unicorn's form, even shrunken down into a pewter copy of himself.

All that's left is for someone to roll to use the scroll. I saw that you wanted to bring Annabelle, unless Valaria would prefer Fenton.

The cold wind whips around Lann's fur cloak as he waits for someone to use the scroll to take them to Heaven. He crosses his arms and fidgets somewhat with the hem of his sleeve, trying to not look as excited and impatient as he felt inside.

"OK," Xanderghul unfurls the scroll and tosses it on the ground in the center of the group. "We all need to hold hands for this to work. In a circle. Yeah. No - Isilme, yeah, good. Ready?"

With affirmation from the whole group, he summons up what power he has at his disposal and begins to read from the scroll. The spell contained within is extremely powerful, the arcane formulae tapping into a more essential part of existence than the spells Xanderghul was currently able to cast, and Xanderghul wills it to do as he wants it to. 'Take me to Heaven'.

To be honest, he has no idea what will happen or what it will look like. Xanderghul's only experience with planar travel is literally walking through a rift. There's nothing more trustworthy than your own two feet.

CL Check (DC 14): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Eldritch Breach: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26

Xanderghul may add darkvision to his spellbook if desired. After paying for access to this spell, Ary has 3818 GP after selling her items. Loot and cash documents have been updated.

Annabelle nods, grasping Hinagiku's other hand with her own cold, lifeless one. On the other side of Hinagiku is of course Ehren, and the monk is happy to be so close to two people she holds most dear in this world. The vampire flashes a fanged grin at her senpai, but the kitsune can tell that she is worried. What if the angels would bar her from even entering heaven? But the Lord-Commander did not seem to share her concerns, and so here she was, cloaked in shadow just in case...and headed to Heaven.

Blinding light fills the air and then slowly fades. As the heroes come back into reality, re-materializing from thing air, their vision returns to them, revealing golden fields of waist-high grass that stretches out into the horizon. Lann shifts somewhat, and the grass flutters around him, sighing with a sound like tinkling crystal. Far ahead in the distance is a massive mountain, surrounded by a glistening wall of diamond. Annabelle is relieved to find that the plane does not reject her. To her, the sky above is filled with glimmering stars, while for Lann just beside of her it is a beautiful, sunny day.

The weather, temperature, and sky of Heaven and its light is different based on the viewer. Whatever would be most comfortable and pleasant will be what your character sees. Even if they view a world shrouded in darkness, however, they will have full visibility as though it were day. Feel free to describe whatever your character experiences.

"Wow. It's... beautiful..." says Annabelle, mouth open. The plane of Heaven feels welcoming, and the vampire has never felt her soul at such peace before. For Ary and Hinagiku, the feeling is similar. However, for the others, there is a varying degree of discomfort - Heaven is goodness and order made manifest, and its strict sense of what order should entail does not agree with those whose souls are bound for the wilderness of Elysium. For such souls the world feels... stifling. The air itself feels stuffy and oppressive, as if their bodies and souls are being forced into clothes a size too small.

Non-good creatures suffer a -2 to all int/wis/cha d20 rolls. Non-lawful creatures suffer a -2 to all int/wis/cha d20 rolls. These effects stack for non-good non-lawful creatures to a total of -4.

The holy mountain ahead serves as an easy landmark to move towards, and so the heroes walk for nearly two hours before arriving at the pearly gates. Before the gate is an enormous line of souls, spanning out further than the eye can possibly see. Many of the souls are familiar and humanoid in shape and size, but many other alien creatures can be seen in line, varying from creatures as small as dormice, to those as large as mighty dragons. They patiently wait, proving their respect for law as they approach the gates for admission. Suddenly, the baying of hounds fills the air. A pack of golden furred wolves and a radiant humanoid figure with a canine head approach the heroes rapidly. They quickly form a circle around the heroes. The hound archon raises a dark-skinned right hand and addresses them. His resplendent golden armor gleams with sacred light, though it is somewhat shrouded by a simple black cloak, and in his other hand he carries a walking stick. "Hail and well met, travelers. I am Peligos, an appointed sentinel of the gates of Heaven, and sworn servant of the grandmother crow. I see that you are no heavenly souls passed on to the next life, which means you are visitors to Heaven. I have heard no news of your coming, however. What is your business inside the gates?"

K(Planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (10) + 18 = 28
K(Religion): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (5) + 13 = 18 Ya don't know what ya don't know.
K(Planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (8) + 18 = 26

K(Religion) v. Archon: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26

To Ary, it was still a late Gozran day, overcast as those days seemed to always be, with the endless fields in bloom. The sun hung in the sky directly where Ary expected for it to be, and moved lazily across the sky just as the sun in Golarion would have, the last vestiges of the stars making way on the opposite end of the sky... though the moon still lingers, late for its trip away - the only hint that Ary's view of the sky was still somewhat romanticized. Each flower has a small dollop of dew, lazily awaiting their return to the slightly clouded sky, long shadows trailing in the sunlight's wake wherever it reaches a wall.

Before she even has a chance to speak, she kneels down once more, to release Kule, intoning loudly and clearly "أيقظ", breaking her own spell, before she rises and stretches. A long, slow exhale leaves fog trailing from her mouth. "We have arrived in the Fields of Serenity." Ary says, "This is where you pretty much always wind up, though not specifically at this point, when you try to move into heaven. It's illegal to teleport directly into the city without passing through the walls. Generally, you'll be dismissed for doing so, though you could likely just be detained if you had a good enough reason." Ary says to the others, before immediately setting off at an excited, brisk pace, allowing the butterflies in her stomach to begin to climb into the dawn to flutter amidst the flowers.

Ary, who would normally allow the others to speak on her behalf, knows that typical pokes and prods would serve none of them in the interactions with the Hound Archons. Instead, she stands a little taller at their approach, and salutes as she begins to state her business. "Greetings, Sentinel Peligos, I am Lord-Commander Ary Bishop. We seek passage to the Great Library of Harmonious Scripture." she says, only lowering her salute once Peligos does. "We have received transit from the Crusader-Queen Galfrey in order to seek out the Archon Zepha. Our goals within the library are to seek the knowledge on where to unearth a mighty weapon, lain buried and forgotten by most beneath the earth within Golarion. With good fortune and the gods willing, we will be able to use the knowledge to return the holy weapons stolen from the Crusades by the Abyss, forging the Knights of the Crusades weapons anew from those broken within the Corruption Forge's abyss-tainted flames."

K. Planes: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (18) + 19 = 37
K. Religion: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (17) + 12 = 29
K. Planes: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (20) + 19 = 39

Upon arriving in Heaven, Xanderghul feels an immediate discombobulation. A headache comes on, and the air pressure feels stifling. He groans with displeasure and ignores the others taking in how gorgeous the plane was. They were right, sure, but it was only because the plane was designed to be so.

Xanderghul saw a sky red and black with stormclouds - a chaotic storm pattern that brought much amusement and provided enough cover for Xanderghul to sneak around. The sky emitted a dull, shifting, red light that somehow lit everything as well as a brightly-lit day. He knew that there would be a long walk ahead, so he swallowed his discomfort and began to walk towards the mountain with the others.

As the group was approached by hound archons, Xanderghul knew it was time. In order to protect himself from discomfort, he casts a spell. The plane's alignment was like a lock, with the aura of the visitor being like a key - except it surrounded your spirit entirely. To secure his own safety in the plane, Xanderghul fabricates a covering of "keys" to fill the lock, giving the plane the impression that he did in fact belong here.

As he casts his spell, his headache dissipates and his body feels more in line with the environment. He laughs internally, very pleased with having reached the power to overcome planar natures with his magic. Meanwhile, he waits for Ary to get them past the archons.

Xanderghul casts planar adaptation.

Peligos returns Ary's salute, and as she speaks, the hound archon slowly surveys each of the heroes and their companions in turn. After a few moments he seems satisfied that there are no traces of evil upon them, and nods. "Ah, a noble quest for honorable mortals. I know of whom you seek. Zepha just so happens to be a fellow member of grandmother's flock. He can often be found conversing with the elect at a place known as the Angel's Wing. I would be happy to point you in that direction, once you obtain the necessary permits for your group to pass through the gates into Heaven's Shore. Please, this way." He smiles warmly, though the expression looks a bit strange on his canine muzzle, and gestures for them to follow him.

They leave the tinkling grass to exit onto a wide alabaster road that leads up to the gate. Lann grins, giving the grass a final stroke with a clawed hand as they exit. It makes a sound like running a mallet down the bars of a xylophone. As they move closer, they overhear a familiar voice.

"Come on, please, it was only a joke, you can't be serious...surely there is something we could do..."

"Kitarlo, I tire of repeating myself. For the crime of theft from the gardens of the Hivetenders, you and your companion have been sentenced to a period of exile from Heaven for a period of minimally fifty-five Heavenly years..."

"Fifty-five years?!? My friend Valais cannot wait such a long time! And we were so close to curing her..."

The heroes come into view of a nine foot tall bronze skinned man with only one arm, adorned in rune-covered robes. He is arguing with an increasingly disgruntled group of hound archons. Behind him is a young elvish woman with long, brown hair. Though her figure is partially obscured by a long, white cloak, her hood is down revealing a hideous red babau's jaw jutting out from her face in place of normal humanoid lips. She fidgets nervously behind him, mumbling under her breath.

"Then it seems you have plenty of time to think on the error of your ways. Return to Elysium, raelis. Perhaps in that time you shall find yourself grow in maturity," the archon snaps. Wheeling on Valais, she continues. "And what are you mumbling about, mortal? If you have something to say, speak up!"

Valais' eyes widen. "N-n-no ma'am. It's nothing. Nothing at all. Búrk bok I thrâm skikhi gu shel al bem am I gel bi skam bih skam, ashish..." Her eyes widen and she gasps, and she throws up her mismatched hands to cover her mouth. But the damage was done. The archon's eyes narrow as her anger begins to boil over...

As detailed in the knowledge planes check Ary and Xanderghul succeeded at, diplomacy checks here in Heaven are at a higher DC when dealing with hound archons. However, K.Religion checks can be made in place of diplomacy checks, and are made against the usual DCs. These checks must be made to cite pieces of religious beliefs, dogma, or texts to support your ideas to be valid. You may exercise creativity in making up such texts or other citations.

Ehren at first seems taken by the sheer beauty of his surroundings, given a sense of nostalgia that resonates with his memories both personal and inherited. The sky is a bright blue, with just a few errant clouds floating here and there. The sun hangs high, its rays bring a warmth that pleasantly contrasts with the brisk breeze that brings down the chill of the north... or whichever direction passes for the north within the confines of Heaven.

But not all is right. As his initial awe settles somewhat, Ehren looks down, feeling that there is definitely something off about this place. The druid wriggles his toes into the ground, struggling to get his bearings on this foreign plane. Separated from the Material Plane by a distance too vast to measure, he could no longer feel the familiar thrum of the Green's power, the ley that coursed through Golarion's body. In its place is something different - by no means unpleasant, like the ley line that he disconnected from the Corruption Forge was, but strange nonetheless.

Even worse, as pleasant as the atmosphere feels, something about it also seems to disagree with Ehren on a far less superficial level. Whether it is his willingness to discard outdated traditions or his veneration of the flux inherent to nature, his soul is clearly not as beholden to the principles of order as Heaven would like. Doing his best to hide his discomfort, Ehren follows after Ary. Not knowing where to even start when speaking to archons and their like, he is content to let her do all of the talking. At least until they happen upon some familiar faces.

They departed for Heaven over a year ago, what are they still doing here? Ehren wonders, perplexed by Kitarlo and Valais's presence, and what it might imply about their own visit here.

"Valais!" calls Xanderghul with a wave, walking over to his erstwhile Pathfinder compatriot. "Update me on your status! It has been a long time since we've seen you. What information have you found regarding returning your previous body?"

While he hadn't expected to run into Valais again, now that he saw her, he realized what a good target for recruitment she would be. Not only that, she could be a good source of information on Heaven.

Valais' eyes widen as she sees the heroes. "Master Xanderghul!" she exclaims. She remembers him well from the time when she served as Ser Jorsal's administrative assistant at the Pathfinder Lodge in Nerosyan. "Ary! Isilme! Ehren! Hinagiku! Valaria! What are you all doing here?"

Kitarlo turns and waves with his one hand. "It is good to see you again. Would that it were under better circumstances..." he says with a sigh. "It has been awhile, I know. We have followed many dead leads to secure a way to separate Valais from the demon attached to her. But, recently, we came into contact with an expert who referred us to a ritual that may work. But to secure that information from them, we had to do a favor for them, in which we did have to... bend a few rules. Nothing bad, I assure you! And now we have found ourselves exiled from Heaven! And just as we obtained this card..." He pulls out a card. "Good for the books and scrolls we need from the Great Library of Harmonious Scripture..."

Val takes a deep breath as the world twists and they arrive on the edge of Heaven itself. The sky seems to turn a deep purple and the pale light of twilight still lingers over the horizon, just allowing the first star to appear in the sky above them as they step out into the field at the gate of the celestial realm. The air feels remarkably calm, but almost... stagnant. She hadn't imagined that Heaven would feel so heavy to walk into, like a day outside when it was far too humid.

Knowledge Planes (CHAOS): 1d20 + 18 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 18 - 2 = 29
Knowledge Religion (CHAOS): 1d20 + 18 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 18 - 2 = 21

Thankfully, Ary is more than capable of greeting the hound archon without much of a fuss and Val can focus on trying to get over the pressure headache and not on trying to remember all of the manners she'd learned decades ago and only used on rare occasion anymore. Of course, fate once again decided to use them as a chew toy as a familiar face makes an appearance. "You're looking..." The tiefling trails off, not sure how to be polite about their unfortunate lack of progress so far. "Like things haven't gotten much worse," she finishes a bit lamely. "But perhaps we can help. We are headed to the Great Library ourselves. Unless there is a rule against it, perhaps we can pick up the information you need in the course of our own research. As the Light and Truth says, 'To expect one to achieve rise from the darkness without a willing hand to offer them support is the height of arrogance.'" She glances to the archons, the last words clearly meant for them.

Knowledge Religion (CHAOS): 1d20 + 18 - 2 ⇒ (11) + 18 - 2 = 27

Quoting Sarenrae's holy book to try to convince that archons that we should be allowed to help Valais

Arriving in Heaven
Unlike the others, Isilme had traveled the planes before, though she remembered little of it now. Nevertheless, she remembered arriving in the material plane, and instinctively knew what it felt to step between planes, something she had been able to do intrinsically as a Raelis.

As they appeared in Heaven she thought back trying to think if she had ever set foot on the plane before, but nothing sprang to mind. At first glance, there were many things here that reminded her of Elysium. The windswept grass planes, the skies which roiled with colors... But despite that, everything was off somehow. It took her a moment to realize that the grass in the fields moved in synchrony, and the colors in the sky changed in a complex but predictable manner, together belying her initial impression. It was these aspects that grated at her, that gave her an unsettling feeling in her stomach like she was falling. That none of what she was seeing was real and that it might cease to be at any moment.

Still, unlike their time within the Citadel at Drezen when the cultists had opened a portal to the abyss, Heaven did not make her skin crawl. Upon making that observation she briefly ponders how miserable traveling to Hell would be, but quickly turns to less unsavory thoughts. There would be a long journey ahead to the mountain, as plane shift was usually inaccurate, and clearly had placed them several hours away from their destination.

Isilme waits for Ary to free Külə from the spell that had enabled him to join them, and once satisfied that the unicorn had made the transition safely, turns to begin walking towards their destination.

At the Gates
Isilme merely listens to Ary as she explains to the Hound Archon their goal. As she does she takes a brief moment to use some of her magic to draw upon Heaven's nature and imbue herself with it. While not nearly as potent as Xanderghul's ability to shield himself from the effects of the plane, drawing upon it would at least help her in dealing with the residents on their own terms, something she suspected they would be needing given the staid and predictable nature of Heaven's inhabitants.

Casting planar infusion I

Moving further in with the group, she is surprised when they bump into Valais and Kitarlo. "Kitarlo, Valais, it is good to see you both hale," she says, responding to their greeting. It was unsurprising that they had run afoul of the regulations here. After all, an Archon could scarcely be expected to pass up an opportunity to interfere in the commission of a good deed by weighing it down with needless bureaucratic nonsense.

"Peace, Archons," Isilme calls out as she strides up towards the group surrounding Kitarlo and Valais. This woman has had a heinous crime committed upon her body and soul. She is a victim, and to assault her for that would be to compound the wrongs done to her a hundred-fold."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 28 - 2 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 28 - 2 + 2 = 35

The female archon at the front scowls for a moment at the further interruption, and then gestures to Peligos for an explanation. Peligos leans on his walking stick, his eyes flitting across Kitarlo and Valais with some measure of bemusement.

"This is Lord-Commander Ary Bishop, of the Iomedaen Crusades. They are here on official business, on behalf of First Sword-Knight Galfrey," he explains.

After a moment of thought the female archon relents. She presses a hand against the back of her furred neck and massages it for a moment. "Plane-touched, both of thee, your words are true. I do concede that the mortal is an innocent party here to this azata's.... shenanigans. I will offer you one last chance. You may accompany Bishop's party as a guest. You may not stray from her further than thirty feet. And no more rule-breaking.. The next strike will result in imprisonment, including rehabilitation and re-education if necessary. You will be watched, Kitarlo of Elysium."

Kitarlo gives the archon a sheepish smile. "Aye-aye, I hear you loud and clear, ma'am."

The archon sighs, and as she turns to stride away with the others she can be heard muttering under her breath, "إزاتاس..."

"Ah... Heaven..." Kitarlo says, his boundless optimism undaunted by a mere bump in the road. "Thanks for getting me out of that bind," he says as they walk behind Peligos towards the ivory gates. As he strides along, he shrinks down to their size, taking the guise of a bronze-skinned aasimar not too different in appearance from his true form. It was simply easier for him to speak to them in such a body, not having to crane his neck down to hold a conversation.

"I can understand that to an outsider, our rules may feel unnecessarily restrictive. But I assure you, for every rule, there is a reason," says Peligos in his soothing voice. "All we do here is for the safety of our charges, the Elect, and to combat the forces of evil and chaos wherever they may lie. Our laws are always in service to those two ideals."

He leads them through a side door that leads into the right tower flanking the gates of Heaven. The chambers within are far larger than the size of the tower would have suggested, seeing it from the outside. The diamond hallways seem to be exactly the right width at all times to comfortably accommodate their party and other passersby without causing congestion or traffic. The heroes then spend the next few hours filling out paperwork. While the celestial attendants are kind and helpful, it is clear that without Peligos' help navigating the process, this step could easily have spanned several days. Eventually the archon leaves them in an enormous waiting room, where many patient Heaven-bound souls sit in chairs of varying size. He assures them that this is the final step, and once they receive their badges they shall be free to explore Heaven's Shore as they desire (up to a maximal period of 3.5 Golarion years, upon which time the badges would expire).

'Ticket number 583 please step up to window number 10-A.' calls out a pleasant female voice overhead.

Külə plops down on an enormous plush cushion. Two of the chairs had transformed into it as he approached, providing him with comfortable accommodation. Despite the splendor he found himself in, his voice is as dour as ever. "Hm. This place is... more uncomfortable than I thought it would be. Ironic, because the plane appears to be bending over backward to do just the opposite." He rests his head against the soft velvet of the cushion. "I have a feeling the problem lies with me, though, and not Heaven itself. I have changed more than I realized, I suppose," he says in a self-defeated sort of way. "Regardless, it is beautiful. More-so than I could have ever imagined."

'Ticket number 609 please step up to window number 2-B.'

The unicorn watches as a older human man strides over to the counter. One final signature to go, and he beams with happiness as he suddenly shifts form, now outfitted with feathered wings and a glowing halo. The years seem to melt off of him as he transforms into one of the Elect, and he now resembles a man in his early twenties. A young woman, also with feathered wings and a glowing halo, bursts through the door. Spotting him at the counter, she rushes to him and draws him up in a loving embrace. They kiss and cry out with joy, lovers reunited in Paradise.

'Ticket number 702 please step up to window number 55-E.'

"Yes. Heaven is very beautiful," agrees Valais. "Dúk ashu gushashi gu dushim," she hisses, staring at the two young lovers as they exit through the marble doors.

'Ticket number 756 please step up to window number 10-A.'

"Worry not, dear Valais," assures Kitarlo from beside of her. "As long as we obey the rules from here on out, and stay where we belong, we will not be punished. None of us are evil, after all!" He leans back in his chair. They are exceedingly comfortable. "But enough about that! It has been long, too long, my friends. What have all of you been up to? What fortuitous tidings bring you to Heaven's door this day?" he asks, leaning forwards eagerly with his one good arm. A Raelis was always eager to hear a new story.

When his time comes to pass on from the world of mortals for good, Ehren always figured that he would become one with the Green. Of course, no one truly knows what fate awaits their soul in the hereafter. Not until the time of their judgment, anyway. But as the archdruid scrawls his name for what feels like the thousandth time, he comes to know with absolute certainty that he is not going to end up in Heaven. By the end, the pleasant smile he forced on at the start of the process has worn thin, and his hand is cramping something fierce, apparently in part to the plane’s aversion to him not attaching “Archdruid” and the past ten generations of his lineage to every single signature.

Glad for the reprieve from all of the paperwork, Ehren thanks Peligos profusely before settling down. From the looks of things, it could take quite some time for everything to be processed, which is just as well, considering the time limit on the badges they are trying to get.

”Do not worry, Külə, it is not just you,” Ehren replies with a lopsided smile, seated on a chair that assumed the hardness and texture of solid rock. It was an improvement over the floor’s persistent attempts to please his feet by taking on the sponginess of loamy soil. He watches with a smile when one of the souls transforms and reunites with their loved one. ”We do not belong here. But I suppose there is an afterlife for everyone.”

"A great deal has happened since we last met," Ehren says, turning to Kitarlo. It was an understatement to be sure, but from the looks of things, they might well have time to tell the whole story. There was just one question he wanted an answer to before they got too into it. "But before we get into that, I have to ask: have you and Valais been in Heaven this whole time? It has been well over a year since your departure." He looks to the Pathfinder, whose flesh still bears Arastrax's handiwork. "Does it always take so long to find what one is looking for?"

Ehren considered himself a patient man, but a one-year trip to Heaven's library was not at all what he had in mind, much less a three-and-a-half-year one.

Ary would have said something in the defense of Valais... but truth be told, there was little she could think of, dogmatically Ha, pun! speaking, that wouldn't sound like a threat. She stops for a moment trying to work through what other religious touchstones she could touch on, but the others seemed already ready to cover the dangers inherent... and seeing the Hound Archon slip away from combat, Ary realized that she didn't need to say anything. She inclines her head to the guard, in thanks.

As they walk, Ary idly asks Peligos "The Elect?" Having not heard the term, especially not with such reverence, before, awaiting an answer from either the Archon or one of her allies.

* * *

Ary quickly works through her own paperwork with minimal assistance from the Archon - now used to performing this very task for a considerable portion of her day every day, and not even thinking of complaining about it. It simply was. Once finished with her own, she quickly moves to help the others, starting with Hinagiku, to fill out theirs.

"I... honestly had not considered the possibility of discomfort. Heaven feels like home to me, after all. I'm sorry that I hadn't mentioned it previously... and I'm glad that many of you were able to make adjustments." she adds, as she looks over to Kule. "Is this like when we were beneath Drezen, then? It felt as though my heart were fighting against the beat of a hammer the entire time we were down there." Ary says, suddenly surprised at how well she was able to recall the memory of the abyssal thrum, pulsing against her very essence. Hopefully, none of the others were feeling quite so badly as she had. They didn't have the benefit of it only lasting a few minutes as Ary had.

"I suppose... that you could use that as a jumping off point, Kule. If you feel that something was lost, you can always fight to attain it, once more. There's no one better to fight than you." Ary says, as she moves to lean against a wall, to watch over her companions, but then nods along with Ehren before the conversation starts to feel like she were pushing Kule too forcefully.

"Yeah, I hadn't even considered that you'd still be outside the gates. Though, I'd hazard you'd only just been brought to the edge?" Ary asks, before lofting a brow. "I'd truly always assumed you had been escorted directly to the library and kept under watch... not that you'd be left to fend for yourself. And... certainly not that you would have to steal to get what you needed to move forward. Maybe tell us what's going on there..?"

A little bit earlier:

"The Elect is the name we give those souls who have been judged worthy of Heaven. While many of the Elect aspire to one day climb the Holy Mountain and join our righteous crusade amongst the archons and angels, others merely wish to rest and relax and enjoy a well deserved eternal peace amongst their kin in Paradise. Our most sacred charge is protecting the Elect and preserving this peace from those fiends who would wish to prey upon such grace and purity," Peligos responds to Ary's question, as they walk down the alabaster street.

----

Lann grins and shrugs at his friend's apparent discomfort. "I have no idea what you're talking about. It is positively lovely here. Everyone so far has been so pleasant and helpful. It seems the least we can do in return is go along with their rules." Leaning back in his chair, he closes his eyes. "Never would I have thought to see this place, with my own two eyes. My life has changed so much for the better since Crel, Dyra and I came upon you and your friends lost in the caverns below Kenabres. Thank you, truly."

"Ah, yes, the archons are very helpful... just don't try to make any untoward jokes, or offend anyone's god-mothers," Kitarlo agrees. Mischievous smiles come easy to his lips. "They haven't much of a sense of humor."

Turning to Ary and Ehren he answers their questions. "We've actually been living here for the past year! Rented out a room in a lovely little underground cottage with this svirfneblin couple. As for our quest, well, I am a keeper of tales and singer of songs... a scholar I am not. But we have visited many such intellectuals during our time here, trying to determine a way to extract the demonic flesh that was grafted onto Valais' body here by that awful cultist... Jorsal was it? I do hope that you've managed to hunt that bastard down by now."

"After several dead ends, we came to know of a wizened old aasimar wizard that might know of something to help her, but despite multiple attempts, we failed to secure an audience with him. But we did manage to get in touch with his faerie dragon familiar, who told us that, if we helped her pull off a series of silly pranks, she'd pull some strings and ensure we meet with her master. It was all good fun! But ah, a star archon that I may have borrowed some enchanted apples from.... seems to disagree with that assessment. And so we were swiftly evicted. Funny how it seems that the wheels of bureaucracy can turn rather quickly when it comes to punishment, hmmm?" he says with a wink.

"But enough about us! I want to know about what you have all been up to. Please, please, tell me."

Waiting in the room for their ticket, Isilme rolls her eyes. All they needed to do was look through some books, and they were working harder just to get in the front gate than it would take to get an audience with Galfrey on a whim. How anyone could find this their preferred destination after death was beyond her, though for Ary's sake she keeps that thought to herself.

She listens to Külə's complaint, pleased to see him wondering how much he had changed. Perhaps it was time for a discussion about his goals beyond vengeance when they returned to Drezen. For the time being she responds solely about the plane's oppressive nature. "That the plane continuously tries to be what you need, rather than what it is, likely has something to do with what is so irksome about it," she says, responding to Külə. "Elysium has no such pretense. I imagine here it would not deign to rain on you unless you somehow needed it to live. Where is the fun in that? How can you appreciate a sunny day if it is never cloudy? One day we will go to Elysium. I daresay you will find it more to your liking."

"The taint coming through the portal was certainly different than this. While irritating, there is no feeling of wrongness with it, as there was in Drezen," she responds to Ary.

"I imagine the paperwork for requisitioning a sense of humor is simply too onerous for most of the inhabitants to manage," she replies to Kitarlo with a grin.

"It turns out Jorsal was not responsible, but instead Arastrax, the invidiak who had possessed him. We managed to free Jorsal, unfortunately Arastrax fled and we have heard naught of him since. Hopefully between the lot of us we can resolve both your quest and our search for knowledge at once," she says optimistically, looking towards Valais.

"In the time since we parted, we have managed to free the whole of Northern Mendev and to retake Drezen much to Aponivicus' consternation. Ehren was even able to restore Mother Heartwood, and the lands around Drezen are green once more. It is truly a wondrous sight. The two of you should come visit once you have completed your task here."

"But it is cloudy, and promises to rain around midday." Ary says with a wry grin. "Ideal doesn't mean same or even static. Heaven is nearly perfect because it is designed for those who desire rules in order to know the limits of who they are and where they are, what they can do without hurting someone else. It's all well and good to rely on passions to tell you right from wrong, but passions don't protect others from excess." Ary says with a small shrug from her position comfortably leaning against the wall. "No, I don't suspect it's intended to be perfect because that utterly replaces the human element."

"But Isilme's right, along the northern front. We also reclaimed the Sword of Valor which keeps the area on lockdown as far as demons are concerned, and in still more recent time, foiled a demonic raid on Nerosyan... though those are becoming far more common since the ward stones were rendered inoperative." Ary says, rolling her shoulder. "There's a lot more as well, though, though... smaller in scale. We've been recovering lands around Drezen and fortifying them. The raids on Drezen are less common, as well. We're hopeful to return quickly... though it would seem that we perhaps should have packed a little heavier." she says, having discovered how the bureaucracy had negatively impacted the pair.

"On a smaller scale, though, in particular... worship of Mother Heartwood has resumed as well... for better or worse, and Xanderghul destroyed at least one of Arastrax's spellbooks."

Xanderghul is confused about the planes. They all seemed to have such a distinct character, one that interested him greatly. They really spoke to the greater construction of the multiverse. He was hungry for more knowledge about them. "It seems like it was a choice to make excess even possible, though. Isn't it cosmically possible to just provide whichever life people desire, whether or not it takes up resources and space?"

He turns to Kitarlo and the others while they wait in line for paperwork to process. Perhaps he could be diplomatic enough to convince the raelis to come spend time around them. "Lots of interesting things happen around us," drawls Xanderghul as he examines his nails. "Perhaps you could come visit, write down some stories, and bring them around. We fight legendary figures, change outdated policy, treat with monarchs and deities, and generally accomplish the impossible. I promise it will take you longer to get bored than nearly anywhere else."

It would be good to have the raelis spread stories of them. Not only might it drive recruitment, having a fan base was always beneficial. The worst-case scenario was having to deal with flowers constantly being delivered to your door, if the mortal entertainment was to be believed.

"You know you do not have to thank me," Ehren says with a chuckle, shaking his head. This is hardly the first time they have had this exchange, but some combination of graciousness and stubbornness always seemed to bring it back around. Small wonder that Lann feels right at home here. "If it were not for you and your people's hospitality, we would never have gotten out of those caverns alive. And I would not be who I am today."

Listening to Kitarlo's brief account of his time spent in Heaven, Ehren raises his brows, surprised that one could essentially live there. He does not find the raelis's apparently fruitless search particularly encouraging, but Isilme was right: they had a much better chance of finding everything they needed if they all worked together.

"Laktharis's legacy is no more," the druid adds in regards to Mother Heartwood's purification. "I wish I could say the same of Arastrax. Still, he is hardly the most powerful shadow demon we have encountered. Should we cross paths again, we will destroy him for certain."

Ehren pauses, realizing that the last part of Kitarlo's question has not been answered. "As for why we are here... we have a project of sorts back in Drezen, a magical forge that can purify weapons that are infused with evil. But to complete it, we require a map of the ley lines running throughout Heaven."

"What I see in the skies here is a paltry and tired imitation of Elysium," Isilme replies to Ary's defense of Heaven. "The plane may be nearly perfect, but that definition of perfect was decided upon by a committee and is overseen to ensure that 'perfection' is enforced." Isilme shrugs. She was unlikely to be able to convey the differences she saw. She still dreamt of Elysium regularly, one of the blessings she had received from her Lady Starsong in the time since she had awakened.

Isilme takes a moment to look down at the mark on her hand, her mind straying from thoughts of the planes to her goddess. Her journeys had taken her and continued to take her far from where she expected to be, which in itself was a boon from the Song of Spheres. The nature of magic itself had become a path unfolding before her, one she yearned to follow to its ends.

Xanderghul's interjection on the metaphysics of the universe draws her attention back to the discussion at hand. "You mean why are there limits on the material plane? Perhaps that is the price of free will... After all, such is not truly present amongst those born of the planes, there are rules even Azatas are bound to observe. No such rule exists for mortals, the worldwound itself is proof of that."

"How... strange." Ary says, after a moment, "So, we all see something different when we look to the sky. So, indeed, it's decided by committee... a committee of one. It's so strange that it gives you precisely what we desire and it's somehow disappointing still disappointing." Ary says, chin resting on her knuckles. "Do you think maybe it's because you want to be disappointed in it, or that you expect it to be wrong in some way? The time I spent here previously, everything was as I remembered it from home, even down to the same season. I was surprised at first, but.." she gives a small shrug. "It just seemed natural that it would be as it should be, I hadn't even considered.." she says, leaning her head back against the wall, but then leans back forward.

"Yeah... agreed. Choice means nothing if your choices have no impact, at least in the immediate. Suffering is a steep price to pay for it, though." she says, pausing for a moment, and lofting a brow at Xanderghul's antics... he was different somehow. He usually didn't seem all that interested in what others were doing, she furrows her brow as she tries to puzzle out what it was about Kintarlo that interested him more than the average soul, but shakes her head.

"I wouldn't linger on Arastrax's weakness compared to some of our most potent foes. He's an invidiak who has gained the ability to cast magic normally reserved to humankind. Growth is a terrifying thing to behold within demons. His desire to gain his own form in a more permanent fashion is particularly dangerous, in that demons don't often have such far-reaching vision or control over their own passions. Most just have... desired flavors of passion." she says, shaking her head. "He's still out there, and he's every bit as dangerous as the majority of foes we've faced. But... yes. It's important to state that Ser Jorsal was every bit as much a victim as you were, Valais." she says, meeting the woman's eyes, if she would look to her. "Forgive me for being forward, but do you have any other demonic grafts? We fought another demonforged abomination a few months prior, so it's likely that there are far more still active."

"The fact that we see different skies, feel different sensations at all, almost makes it all feel less... real," Ehren says, struggling to find the right words. Lacking the planar lore that the others possess, he can only really describe how he feels. "The world we come from is always in a constant state of change. It is not beholden to the whims of those who live on it. Not without some meddling, anyway." With a wry grin, he adds, "Perhaps the plane itself has free will."

"As far as Arastrax goes, I did not mean to imply that he is not dangerous. Far from it. Considering his skill set, it is troubling that he has been left to his own devices for so long. All the more reason to hunt him down, should the opportunity to arise." At the mention of another demonic abomination, Ehren frowns. "For all the babau we have slain, it is a shame we have not happened upon the one that was merged with Valais. Laktharis went out of his way to make himself known. This other demon seems less interested in being found. Unless..."

Looking to the Pathfinder, he asks, "Have you had any other strange dreams, heard any whispers since we last met?"

"I've always preferred the twilight hours," Val adds absently, looking up at the twinkling glow of the first stars. "But I don't think that an eternal twilight is quite what I had in mind for my eternity. Seeing how things change is part of what makes exploring the world worthwhile." She shrugs. "Still, I'm also not the kind of person who's particularly into peaceful contemplation and relaxation. If I'm not doing something, I start to get twitchy."

The tiefling rolls her neck as the topic is drawn back to more mortal concerns and less philosophy. "He's a clever demon but even a clever demon still has some level of predictability. I'm sure that he'll come looking for revenge eventually and we'll be able to deal with him. Just like every other unusually strong demon that we've managed to earn the ire of. As abnormal as he might be, I doubt he's any less vindictive for it."

Lann beams at Ehren, pleased to hear that he himself had such an crucial role in helping his friends, the heroes of Drezen. "Still, it is good to be here. This place just feels...right. And it proves to me that death is not an ending...just the beginning of new adventures." His smile wavers somewhat. "My people, we don't live as long as yours, you see. Chief Sull has been getting sicker and sicker as of late. Ser Markus doesn't know how much longer he will be with us. But that's okay. It just means he'll get to move to this world."

"No... no dreams," responds Valais. "And there is only one demon still fused to me. A divination ritual I underwent a few months ago revealed his true name to me... Ammoch. Perhaps I am too far from the Inner Sea to feel his thoughts. But his flesh grafted onto my body affects my speech sometimes... sometimes at the worst of times... The thoughts are always mine, but sometimes the demon chooses the words. Since Laktharis was slain, things have improved, though I occasionally sometimes have snúshushâm krishúshum. I can feel him sometimes, in my mind...the constant thoughts encouraging me to do evil things, combined with the constant pain of the grafts is exhausting. I hope that we can find a cure for this soon."

Meanwhile, Kitarlo's eyes sparkle as he listens to the heroes speak of their exploits. "Oh! It was a shadow demon all along? What a spectacular twist!" he says, gushing. "That the wayward venture captain be as much of a victim as the rest... ah, I couldn't have written a better ending myself. So, if I understand this correctly, in the past year you've re-claimed a lost crusader citadel, purified an ancient Kellid goddess-tree, and now you've moved on to traversing the planes in search of ancient secrets? You are correct, I must hear of more..."

Ticket number 1566 please step up to window number 51-C.'

"Oh! That's our number!" Kitarlo exclaims, sitting up straight. "We shall have to continue this conversation soon." He smiles. "As for your proposal, well, a raelis travels where the best stories are being written. If that continues to be so, I shall be happy to observe." He stretches. "But I must warn you, I have made an exception in meddling for our dear Valais. I typically do not intervene. The best mortal works are born of strife and crisis. Shielding a mortal from the trials of life could very well prevent the greatest epics from being written! Should I travel to visit you in Drezen, understand that it would be strictly as an observer."

The heroes head to the counter where they each receive a small golden badge to pin to their clothes. Each badge is keyed to resonate solely with their mortal souls - should they attempt to place the badge on another, the golden pendant fades to grey. The Elect attendant smiles at them, congratulating them for achieving entry into Heaven. She appears as a short, chubby, mousy woman with wings and a golden halo. She has one final warning, though. "You are not to leave the region of Heaven's Shore without an archon's express permission! Violators will be dealt with harshly and swiftly!" she says cheerfully. "Additionally, it appears that the archon Peligos has set you up with an appointment with the archon Zepha, as requested. I have gone ahead and made a reservation for you to meet him at the Angel's Wing. Please, do not be late!"

Kitarlo grins. "Excellent! I know exactly where that is. Follow me, everyone!"

The heroes exit through the large, marble doors into Heaven's Shore. Heaven's Shore is the lowest tier of Heaven, and serves primarily as a mercantile district where mortals and other planar visitors can mingle and trade with Heaven's natives. Its streets are lined with lush, immaculately trimmed gardens and beautiful buildings. Statues of radiant celestial beings and fountains of crystal-clear water are common decorative accents. Grand staircases and sweeping ramps connect the district's many terraces. Buildings come in all sizes, from massive temples large enough to serve a congregation of giants, to cozy cottages the size of birdhouses.

An eclectic collection of strange creatures stroll through the streets. Denizens of Golarion mingle with strange, unheard of creatures from other worlds. Ahead of the heroes, the street widens to accommodate an enormous furred alien being, large and fat with several pairs of legs. It scurries down the street, a comically small set of wings and halo positioned above its head. Its size does not inconvenience a single other soul as the street simply widens to allow its passage, shrinking behind of it as it goes like a zipper. It pauses at a building that is less than half of its size, and gingerly opens the door with the tips of its fingers. and then with a shwoop! it is sucked into the doorframe, vanishing to someplace within.

Inevitables from the lawful plane of Axis stride through the streets ahead, their gleaming metallic bodies moving with perfect precision. There are also representatives from the plane of Nirvana, beast-shaped agathions laughing joyously amongst themselves in response to some joke told in Celestial. And of course, there are hosts upon hosts of angels, in every conceivable shape and size. There are djinn and nephllim, mercanes and garuda, and even a large population of mortals. Members of nearly any non-fiendish race have visited Heaven's Shore at one time or another and have left their marks upon the district's eclectic culture and architecture, causing the city here to lack the strict uniformity one would expect of a place as lawful as Heaven.

Beyond the mercantile downtown district are many residential districts, visible in the distance. Indeed, Heaven's Shore is the only Heavenly city that allows a resident population of foreigners, though any outsiders would have to be vouched and registered through a visa program to set up residence here. Indeed, this was a place where folk of good intent from across the multiverse can come to petition Heaven, study underneath angels and archons, and peddle exotic goods to the native Elect. As planar cities often go, Heaven's Shore is more alike to the size of a small country of the Material Plane, than that of any mortal city. However its borders are clearly marked by terraced garden walls, and heavily guarded to ensure no unauthorized visitors can pass into the rest of Heaven.

Kitarlo leads the heroes through the winding paths and up several sweeping ramps of Heaven's Shore to a cozy little restaurant called The Angel's Wing. True to its name, the restaurant has a sloping, wing-like shape, and a slanted ceiling that tapers downward to the wing's tip. As the enter, they notice that the tables and chairs shrink the further one goes away from the door, ending at tables sized for creatures less than six inches tall. Its walls are covered in a soft substance with the appearance of downy feathers. Groups of contented patrons talk quietly amongst themselves, enjoying the restaurant's cuisine.

The heroes are greeted by the host, a perky cassisian manifested as a chubby winged infant wearing an oversized helmet, who leads them over to the wall. He reaches out and grabs the feathers in the wall, which mold into a long table, large enough to seat their entire party. There is even a spot large enough for Külə to stand and dine amongst the others as an equal, a first for the unicorn.

"Please, take a seat, your server will be right with you!"

The cassisian was correct, as a young elvish Elect quickly emerges to greet the heroes.

"So, can I take any of your orders?" asks the young man. His name badge indicates that his name is Tanniv.

"Oh... sorry. I don't think we've been given our menus yet," Lann says, sheepishly.

"Ah, a first-timer, I see! Not to worry. You can order anything you'd like. I can assure you that our chefs can create anything and everything that you would desire to eat."

Lann stares blankly. "Anything?"

"Anything! Let's start with you, miss, what would you have?"

Annabelle squirms in her seat. She would blush, if she still had blood to pump into her cheeks. "Sorry, I'm just here to chat... I can't really eat."

"Nonsense, you can have anything you desire," Tanniv tilts his head and thinks for a moment. "What would you prefer to start with? O? AB? A negative?"

Annabelle blinks. "Um.... O?"

"Of course!" Tanniv says. He turns over the empty wine glass in front of her, and produces a pitcher. It suddenly fills with bright red blood, which he pours for her without a fuss. Annabelle's eyes widen. Mistaking her surprise for apprehension, Tanniv continues, "I can assure you that all animal and humanoid products produced here are ethically sourced, provided by the bounty of Heaven itself. No living thing need suffer to provide a perfect meal in Paradise! Now, what would you like to have?" he continues, turning to Ary. He continues with each of the heroes in turn, taking their orders.

Val isn't entirely sure how a bubbly petitioner can sound quite so threatening, but she manages it. It's impressive in a way, but the sight of Heaven proper quickly wipes the dissonance from her mind. Beings she's never even imagined wander the shifting pathways, as at home in the celestial realm as a human would be on Golarion. For a moment, the tiefling becomes abundantly aware of how little of world she's actually seen, never mind the many worlds beyond their own. More than a mortal could ever see in a lifetime, even one with a particularly long lifespan like hers. "It's funny," Val muses absently as they make their way up one of the ramps. "Mendev still has trouble just accepting tieflings but Heaven couldn't care less. It's... reassuring in a way. The celestials don't really care about race as long as your heart is in the right place."

Having actually feathers on the walls was an interesting design choice, but The Angel's Wing did have a relaxing atmosphere at least. She fights a laugh as the server blithely pours Annabelle a glass of 'ethically sourced' blood. "You can't get a much better endorsement than that," she teases, nudging the vampire's shoulder. "I'll take a Magnimaran Roast Rabbit with a light red wine, Wiscrani, if you can manage it."

"Ironically it seemed the Archons took more issue with Kitarlo than with you or Annabelle," Isilme adds to Val's observation. It was surprising that they didn't raise an eyebrow, though perhaps that was because no demon or evil cultist with half a brain would try to get through the screening at the gates. Even if they had something to gain from it, and the skills and power to do so, the line just to fill out the paperwork was likely deterrence enough.

Isilme listens to the Elect excitedly explaining that they could provide any meal their hearts desired. It was certainly a bold claim, one that cried out to be put to the test. She calmly waits for him to work his way around to her, meticulously planning her order as she does. "Anything, is it? Well then, that calls for something truly unique!" As she begins to recite her order, only the slightest mischievous glint in her eyes hints at what is coming.

"I will have a sliver of the haunch of a Brobdingnagian serpent, aged for a hundred nights in the shadows of the deepest recesses of the Burning Mother, charred lightly by the flames of Firros in the Boundless Sea, served chilled on a block of ice formed in the cinder-scarred wastes of the Eternal Furnace."

She pauses for a moment and then adds to her order, "Oh, and white wine to go with it, something Elysian that pairs well with the impossible!" She gives the waiter a wink and waits for the outcome, curious as to whether her order would actually be fulfilled.

Ary wonders as they pass, if the strange creature could visit a hummingbird friend with as much ease as it had entered the shop.

"Are... all of those feather tokens, Tanniv? Or just some?" Ary asks as the table gets pulled out of the wall.

"He said ethically sourced, Isilme... not epically sourced." Ary says, rolling her eyes. "I'm... less difficult to please. I'll take any sort of bread that you might have on hand, a lightly spiced stew, and I'd like to try an exotic jam of some sort - preferably delicate flavors. I'll have some honeyed milk to drink with it. Thank you very much, Tanniv."

She then turns her attention back to Isilme and Valaria, "Well, bear in mind, that we're also in the easiest to enter part of Heaven. It's sort of like a tourist town, except kept extremely safe. Meanwhile... Mendev is a nation at war. I'm hopeful that we can turn a lot of the typical troubles we have to deal with back home on their head, and understanding how this place works exactly could be a good place to start. But... I do suspect as we go deeper into the tiers of heaven, there will be increased scrutiny." Ary admits.

Ehren frowns deeply when Lann mentions that Chief Sull is in poor health, more specifically when he brings up his people’s short lifespans. It was not something that he had ever thought to ask his friend, having always assumed that aside from their odd appearances, the underfolk were none too different from any surface-dwelling race. There was nothing wrong with passing from a natural death, but that did not make it any less sad. Not wanting to spoil Lann’s mood, when their number is called, Ehren says with a smile, ”Well, let us see what lies ahead. It is not everyday that one gets to preview the afterlife.”

Whatever minor qualms Ehren has with Heaven seem to quickly abate when the group passes into Heaven’s Shore, where the plane’s wonders seem to multiply by the second. His eyes flit around constantly as they follow Kitarlo into the city, never lingering on one spot for too long - there is simply too much to see and too little time. What strikes him the most is the sheer diversity of life in the city, and how the plane seems able to accommodate every single inhabitant without disrupting the experience of the whole. In a way, Ehren supposes, it truly is Paradise.

”Kenabres on Armasse was more difficult to get into than this place,” the druid remarks wryly, recalling the security at the event. ”Much less paperwork, though.”

At the restaurant, Ehren blinks when Tanniv describes its expansive, no, all-encompassing menu. As the Elect effortlessly fulfills Annabelle’s special dietary needs, the urge to put his claim to the test rises. Not with anything as fantastical as Isilme’s order, but with one that back on the Material Plane, would be more trouble than it is worth to acquire.

”I will have reindeer, stewed with lingonberries, wild mushrooms, and thyme.” He lists each ingredient with uncertainty, as though trying to recall a recipe he once heard. It is just one of several traditional Kellid dishes he has never tried, mostly on account of how far north reindeer dwell, their ancient migratory paths disrupted by the Worldwound’s presence. On what beverage to pair with it however, he draws a blank. ”And to drink, ah, a wine of some sort? Something red.”

"Yes! Feather tokens, every single one of them," the elven Elect responds to Ary, beaming. "Amazing what creation magic can be capable of, yes?"

He then happily takes down each heroes' order, scrawling the words in a notebook as he goes. "We have a variety of chefs on staff, who hail from all around the multiverse. Our newest sous chef was trained in Azlant! They would be happy to make recommendations, or craft something special just for you." At Isilme's order he laughs and smiles. "We will endeavor our best to suit such exotic, well-traveled tastes! We only aim to impress."

"Hmmmm, are you sure this is my table?" calls out a voice from behind them. "Surely young, noble Galfrey wouldn't send such a band of childish mortals my way, come to Heaven to hassle its service staff with silly games?" It is a humanoid shaped raven with golden eyes and flowing white robes. He shakes his willow staff at Isilme, though his tone conveys that he is just teasing, and he smiles good-naturedly all the same.

"I am sorry if I kept you waiting," he says, taking a seat at the table. "I am Zepha. I am told that you came to seek me out? Well I am here. Please, introduce yourselves, and explain why you have come so far to see me."

"Ah, but first, permit me to get my order out of the way," he says, turning to the waiter. "I shall have a red ale imported from the Drunken Hero's realm, ideally on tap. And, ah, a nice crisp salad, with lover's laurel as the green."

"Very good, sir!" says the Elect. He turns to Xanderghul, the last to order. "And what would you like to have today?"

Xanderghul declines to order anything. The entire affair reeked of propaganda to him, and the fact that everyone was so determined to please him made him uncomfortable. The fact that the plane was a pleasant place to live didn't bother him. Heaven's Shore being so cosmopolitan delighted him. But as far as he could see, everything was curved and bent and twisted in order to make people happy, as if that was the most important thing in the Multiverse.

K. Planes: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (14) + 19 = 33

When Zepha comes to meet them, Xanderghul is appropriately mollified. Preceptor archons were powerful creatures, and that one owed Galfrey a favor made his opinion of her more favorable. Surely Mendev's Queen was as pragmatic as anyone despite being the epitome of many mortals' goodness.

Despite being surrounded by wonders, Xanderghul is focused on his task above all else. It would do no good to become too enchanted with Heaven and what it had to offer. He could imagine a mortal traveling to Heaven and never leaving until it was removed. He did not want that fate for any of his companions, so he cuts straight to the point. "We are soldiers from the Material Plane. Our goal in Heaven is to research celestial ley lines and potentially ways to move them so that we can create an artifact that will purify unholy weapons. We were told by the Crusader Queen Galfrey that you would aid us in this task."

He gestures towards Valais and Kitarlo. "These two are on a separate quest that brings them to the same place: The Library of Harmonious Scripture. They are looking for a cure for our friend Valais'.... unfortunate affliction."

"Will you help us?"

Zepha tilts his head, his golden, bottomless eyes piercing into Xanderghul's for a moment. He seems distant, and deep in thought. After a few seconds pass, he seems to come to, smiling, an expression the archon is only able to convey with his eyes. "Naturally. That seems more than a reasonable request. Given the size of your party, I could buy you... hmmm... approximately three hours to browse the Library of Harmonious Scripture. That should be more than enough time. The Library is extensively catalogued, and the librarians there ready and able to help you find whatever texts you should require."

"It is not often that I have the opportunity to speak to mortals from your region of Golarion. Please, I would love to share a meal with you all, learn of your names, hear of your journeys," he says, glancing across each face at the table with interest. "Besides, you shall want the moment to eat and rest. It will be nearly a day's travel, up many flights of stairs, to reach the Library."

K(Planes): 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (17) + 18 = 35

"Huh.." Ary says, once more openly surprised by how things were maneuvering within the celestial city. The young half-elf was much more akin to the Ary she had been before she had died here than she had ever been since the Worldwound. Though... this seemed odd. Of all of the things a Preceptor could have been capable of - maybe even the redemption of Nurah - Galfrey had given openly and willingly without a second thought such a terrific resource... and then, for only three hours in the Library of Harmonious Scripture. The concept left her significantly more quiet than she had been since prior to the Preceptor's arrival.

She idly daydreamed about the Preceptor's involvement with Galfrey, wondering if he perhaps may have been involved (or Galfrey in his machinations) in one of the Second Sword-Knight's own stories. There was at least one that came to mind that Ary could think of that may have benefited from a last-minute intervention and a sudden push towards Heaven in the wake of a great loss.

The waiter re-emerges with some food. First, he refills Annabelle's glass (she had drained it dry at an expeditious rate), then places a small bowl of dark black stew in front of her. "Dinuguan sa Kamias, my lady. A Calani recipe. Our chefs believe it may be suitable to your palate."

Annabelle opens her mouth to protest - "I really don't know if-... oh, alright. I'll try it."

By then he had moved on to Ary, setting a loaf of freshly baked bread, a hearty stew, and a small jar filled with a pale orange jam. "Old world fig jam, a sweet spread made from the fruit of a sort of flower that prefers southern environments. And of course, honeyed milk. I hope that you enjoy."

Meanwhile, Zepha waits expectantly for someone to go ahead and break the ice with him.

K(Nature): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14

Ary shakes herself from her reverie as conversation dies down once more and food is delivered. "I'm Ary Bishop, this is Xanderghul - no last name that I'm aware of - this is Ehren Ferron. Isilme, or Lleuad-a'r-Sêr depending on how formal you want to be. This is Lann... also no surname that I'm aware of." she says, motioning to each. "This is Annabelle Kir, Kule, Valaria Alazario, and Hinagiku." she says, finally making it back to the pair at the table.

"Zepha is a Preceptor Archon... his kind made famous in the Candlemark Carol. Albeit the archon was never explicitly named." she says as she begins to tear off chunks of her bread, offering to share it with the others, digging out small bits of the fig jam to use, using a spoon to eat the jam directly rather than spreading it on the bread. She nods appreciatively - the flavors overlapped well, but were not overpowering to her palate.

"We are, together, the majority of the leadership of Citadel Drezen... Iomedae have mercy on Irabeth's soul in this trying time." she says with a tiny grin. "We have been steadily reclaiming areas within the Worldwound itself, and helped to directly turn back a demonic raid in Nerosyan - hence our trip here. Crusader-Queen Galfrey saw fit to help us with our project to transform the corruption forge into a tool for good. What brings you to Heaven's Shore? Just our meeting, or do you make your home here?"

Xanderghul doesn't need to eat, but as it becomes clear that the group will be spending some time eating and drinking with this preceptor, he orders a drink. Whatever is available that no one else has ever had before.

"Yeah, yeah, we have interesting lives," he says. "I'm thousands of years old. Is this conversation a pre-requisite to getting time in the Library?"

"Ahhh, Drezen, good to hear it has been reclaimed. Last I visited the mortal plane, it had just been taken," Zepha remarks.

"Magnimaran Roast Rabbit, served with black olives, with a glass of barolo la morra, cisault, Wiscrani, 3972," says Tanniv, placing Valaria's plate in front of her.

"I live in Heaven's Shore, yes," Zepha responds politely. He cocks his head and smiles. "You are the leadership of the Crusader Citadel, yet only three of you wear uniform. It must be an interesting time in Mendev!"

"Brobdingnagian serpent, aged-dried 100 days, charred in the Plane of Fire, served chilled on a block of ice formed in the cinder-scarred wastes of the Eternal Furnace, charred black, on a block of ice fetched from the Maelstrom, within the cerulean void of raw potentiality. Our chefs would like to note that Brobdingnagian is highly toxic, and so they have prepared the antivenom for your comfort. They recommend imbibing just as you begin to feel your throat swell for maximum effect." Tanniv says, placing a plate in front of Isilme. On it is a single icecube, on which a very small, blackened piece of meat lies. He also procures a small vial, containing a green fluid, and a small shot glass filled with a golden substance. It comes with a note: "مسلية لمثل هذا العميل" "And an amuse bouche, liquid ambrosia from the streams of the Witchwood."

To Xanderghul, Zepha responds. "No, of course not. If you'd like to set out now in the direction of the library, I daresay you'd easily find your way there," he says, cheerfully. He turns to Isilme. "But as for me, I would love to have some company and a grand meal. Mealtimes are for building friendship and camaraderie, I can think of few things more joyful." He turns to Valaria. "Starknives, a butterfly on your cheek - I can see plain that you are an emissary of Desna. Desnans are often too peripatetic to seek out the challenges of leading a city, what circumstances brought you into such a line of work?"