| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Isilme drifts back down after Xanderghul takes off and is surprised to watch him unleash a polymorph spell on her without warning. It was one thing to grant flight or something to one of their companions without anything more than a cursory warning, but there was hardly a need for haste at the moment. Fully changing someone's form without warning--especially to someone who had never been subject to such magic before--was uncalled for, however.
Alighting next to Ary in her new form, she finds it impossible to miss the terror in her aquiline eyes. She looks at her sympathetically and nods in agreement at Ehren's encouragement that she try to focus on breathing. "Hold on and we will get this righted, Ary," she says soothingly.
Isilme sighs, frustrated with the situation, and then flies back up quickly coming to a stop at the ledge above where Xanderghul had returned. The look on her face makes her anger in regards to the situation quite clear. "A polymorph spell without even warning her Xander? Did it never occur to you that using magic like that on someone without warning could be terrifying or traumatic? If unprepared for it, how is it any different than Ehren transforming one of our foes forcefully? She cannot undo the magic without your explicit consent, and in her current form she cannot even ask for you to undo the magic. Get down there and undo this right now, and if you care for her as a friend at all, you owe her an apology as well."
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
When the Archdruid calls to her, Unafe realizes there's been a knot of anxiety in her throat since he left her atop the cliff, alone amongst the Southerners...and feels it unwind as he calls to her.
With a screech like a joyful eagle, she runs straight over the cliff edge--growing into her saurian self as she does so--and in seconds has run down the steep, wet cliff to stand beside Ehren, Isilme, and Ary.
She gives a saurian frown as she puts together what happened. "Rydych chi'n wirioneddol siŵr eich bod chi'n ymddiried ynddo?"
Unafe hefts the coffin, finding it easy to carry with one arm, but waits to see what will happen with Ary...and not yet eager to leave the security she feels at the Archdruid's side.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Xanderghul shakes his head, flabbergasted. He is rendered mute by his surprise for several seconds as he sputters with a hand on his forehead. He was only trying to be useful, and now Isilme was blaming him for Ary's weaknesses? Absurd. He holds a hand up towards Isilme sharply to silence her and then strides over towards the cliff face. From above, he regards Ehren, Ary, and the dinosaur-girl.
"Ary!" He shouts down into the volcanic vent. "Listen carefully!"
"You have three choices here! You can control yourself, fly up here, and then reassume your own shape. You can change back down there and allow Isilme to carry you. You can also wait another eight and a half minutes and allow the spell to end on its own. Your body knows what to do!"
"Remember: I will always have new magic to employ. The next time I cast this spell, or another spell that surprises you, you might be in the thick of a desperate battle. I know you would not hesitate then. You should not hesitate now. Fly."
While he waits and watches to see what she'll do, he sits down on the cliff edge. His feet dangle over, towards the lava. He watches Ary intently.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
As Ehren says the first thing that truly helps to shake off the panic - a reminder that the spell could indeed be ended early - Ary's mind breaches the surface again, then as Isilme suggests she would go get Xanderghul in case he didn't hear Ehren she calms a little more.
Ary watches Isilme go... insofar as her head can look in that direction... and disappear, just as a giant lizard creature hurtles down the cliffside as if it were nothing. Her pupils narrow as they focus on Unafe dart down the mountainside as if it were a street and lift the coffin as if it were a bag of holding.
Then she hears Xanderghul calling down, she cranes her neck just a bit to see him, fighting against the urge to panic once more as she feels the itchy armor that was growing from her flesh shift against her. Just armor.
And Xanderghul's words are... surprisingly the thing that breaks her out of the panic. Not only because he offered a solution directly - that Ary was in control all along - but also because her annoyance at him over the situation pushed past the panic in the moment. The fact that he could fix it without hesitation if Ehren were right was noteworthy, especially since she was being told to fix it herself. She begins to spread her wings... and then shakes her head once more, taking the second of two options given to her. Willing herself back into her old form.
The transformation back was no prettier than the original transformation, though her body tenses a little less as the process continues. Faith once more the first to return to her side, even before Radiance or her armor. She waits several seconds to make sure nothing was still transforming before heading towards the cliff wall.
"Damn it, Xander." she mutters, before grabbing hold of the ropes that the clerics had lowered down and begins climbing up without another word.
Ehren frowns as Xanderghul lectures Ary, having not realized that she could end the spell's effect herself. Still, a teachable moment hardly seemed like the appropriate response to her dilemma. The druid did not exactly blame him for what he did. Under most circumstances, from most people, the wizard's spell would not have provoked such a powerful reaction.
An apology of some kind would have been nice, but that would have required Xanderghul to humble himself. Still, as arrogant as his response came off, he did end up helping Ary, in his own way. Ehren watches as the crusader silently starts her climb up the wall, wondering if this experience was something she would want to talk about later on. With a sigh, he then wills himself to ascend, pushed upward by the cloud pillar until he can step out of the chasm again.
"As I was saying before, this region is very prone to earthquakes," he explains once everybody has regrouped, pushing past the matters of the coffin and Xanderghul's spell. "It's too dangerous to stay here. We should head past the hills before I lay down our shelter."
And before we think of something else to argue about, he silently adds.
Isilme just shakes her head as she watches Xanderghul go yell at Ary to suck it up. Flying by him she floats down the cliff to rejoin Ary, but decides to leave it at that for the time being, given her clear attempt to focus on climbing and move past the unfortunate event.
She then hovers down at the bottom, looking at Unafe holding the coffin now in Ary's place. "Er fy mod yn amau ei fod yn wir, rhowch wybod i mi os oes angen llaw arnoch i godi hynny i fyny'r clogwyn," she says, gesturing briefly at the coffin.
When they return to the top of the cliff, she responds in agreement when Ehren suggests they get moving quickly and put some distance between this volcanic terrain and themselves. "The sooner we can find a place to rest, the better," she adds. In truth Isilme was quite tired already. Though she had used little in the way of magic, she'd burned through no small measure of her spark today and doing so left her fatigued.
Given that they were likely to set off for Clan Demetae's territory immediately upon returning to Drezen, she was unlikely to get a chance to recover her power anytime soon. She could only hope that their diplomatic mission would be relatively uneventful, though deep down she suspected that was an overly optimistic expectation, even for a priestess of the goddess of luck.
Hopefully after the mission there would be sufficient time to make serious progress on the research she and Xanderghul had only just discussed before heading out to rescue the Erastilian priests from Delamere's demon. The sooner she could free herself from Li'an's body, the sooner her spark would be restored, or so she hoped.
Xanderghul stands from the cliff face and flies up into the air. "Very well then," he declares, "I have some magic remaining. I will provide the first shift guarding, when we finally do camp. All of you can feel free to lie down and sleep for a few hours once we've found someplace."
The chainmail is Celestial Armor.
Ehren does not know what the talisman is, though he recognizes its magic is far more powerful than that of the chainmail.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
As they make their way toward an area safe from earthquakes, Hinagiku watches over the body language and attitude of her companions. The dual incident, Ary and Isilme going against Ehren's wishes and Xanderghul's spell on Ary, were still fresh. If Ary and Isilme had probably moved past this already, she knew that Ehren had been hurt and that Xanderghul would probably feel unappreciated again. From her usual position at the back of the marching order, she had the perfect position to get a better understanding of the current tensions. If the tension was still there in a day, once things should have cooled down,she might speak with the two men to make sure they did not carry any grudges.
In between checking on the group, Hinagiku speaks once or twice with Aerona, making sure she was still doing okay, and sends a quick whisper to her long term companions:
"Ary, everyone, I have peered into Mrs. Unafe's essence, and I did not sense any corruption, despite her sometimes half demonic appearance. I do not think she would be dangerous to us.... or at the very least not trying to deceive us."
The group gathered together again once more, not many more words are spoken as they follow Ehren up and to the north, away from the Weeping Hills. The hilled landscape here was ridden with oozing, blackened rivers of lava that emit massive clouds of steam from the pouring sheets of rain. Leaving this pocked landscape behind them, they travel for twelve miles across the desolate wasteland of the northeastern Worldwound, more commonly known as the Wounded Lands.
To the east, an enormous cliff-face marks the border of what was once known as the Great Sarkorian Plateau - these days it is known as the Marchlands, due to the large number of military fortifications that once dotted its expanse, forming the original defense around the rift to the south at Iz.
Even once they escape the volcanic terrain and return to more normal ground, the region is completely devoid of life - plant, animal, or bird. As it becomes darker, it becomes more difficult to see too far ahead, though eventually the wind and rain dies down leaving them just uncomfortably hot and humid. Finding a patch of land sheltered by a stunted husk of a tree, Ehren crafts an extra-dimensional space out of the soil and sheetrock below.
13 Gozran 4717
The heroes pass the night there and awaken in the morning to the temperature having dropped substantially. It is now bitter cold and lightly snowing outside.
This is more akin to the weather you would expect in this region, yesterday's heat and downpour was aberrant.
After they complete their morning preparations, Ehren transforms into a Yolubilis Heron, a 20 ft tall dark grey bird with long, sleek legs. In this form, his strength augmented with magic, he is able to carry the eight others of their party, flying up and over the cliff with ease with the crystal coffin clutched in his enormous talons.
A Yolubulis Heron is about as tall as a T Rex.
As they reach the top of the plateau, it is a 36 mile journey back to Drezen. For three long hours they cross the plateau from overhead and it is much the same as before - barren, lifeless. Endless expanses of brown, dead, grass are all that are left of what was an enormous grassland inhabited by enormous migratory herds of auroch. Then, suddenly the grass returns to life, and the landscape is dotted with flowering shrubs, long, swaying grass, and even a few trees. Still, it is a another hour of travel still before they reach obvious signs of civilization, rolling acres farmland that is just beginning to be sprout new crops as spring returns to the land.
Drezen is a large city, housing over 10,000 within its protections. It sits perched on was once a large river, but only a deep canyon bed remains. The city is surrounded by ten-foot high stone walls, with guard towers posted every so often around the perimeter. Above the walls, however, Citadel Drezen is visible on a large hill overseeing the entire city - a grand, two-story castle with signs of additional towers being constructed for future expansions.
Ehren lands well before reaching the city, shifting back so that they can approach without causing too much alarm to any guards watching the skies from afar. The road to Drezen is newly paved, and in the mid-afternoon there is mostly traffic moving outwards from the gates to the small towns and farming settlements that had cropped up outside of the castle walls. People walk, drive carts, or ride horses up and down the city streets, though the fact that this is a military fortification is immediately clear in the populace - most passersby bear either the coat of arms of Mendev or the holy sword-cross of Iomedae on a tabard over armor, and are well-armed. Even those who appear to just work as tradespeople tend to have at least a cross-bow or blade at their side.
Despite being clearly in Sarkoris, it would stand out to Unafe that there are very few people of Kellid descent around. The majority here are of Chelish, Ulfen, or Taldane descent, though Crusaders are a diverse group, including recruits come from continents far and wide.
Another thing that would stand out is the high number of tieflings. Roughly 1 out of 20 people in Drezen is a tiefling, and they are all noticeably young looking.
How Sarkorians felt about tieflings was pretty diverse from clan to clan, with some clans viewing those born obviously different as a gift from the gods or the Green - others, viewing them as a curse.
Once they reach the gates, Ary begins walking out in front to greet the guards first. Her import among the soldiers is obvious in how they react to her - upon seeing her from afar the Crusaders stand tall and straight, saluting their Lord-Commander as she passes. Once they reach the gate-house proper, though, they are stopped as a tall, brunette elven woman clad in gleaming plate mail scrutinizes each hero slowly in turn. After passing over each of them, she nods to her companion at the front, a similarly armored young human man with dark tanned skin and Garundi features. "All clear!" She gently ushers them along - there was a caravan of people behind them that were next in line to be screened prior to entry into the city from the southern gatehouse.
This district, known as Southbank, is now mostly dominated by the two large campuses that line the southern bank of the dried out river. One campus belongs to Xanderghul, and is academic and arcane in nature, while the other is a Crusader-run military academy, focusing on martial technique. Classes are out for the day at this point, so the streets are bustling with students leaving class for the day and returning to their assigned dorms. There are other businesses that have cropped up in response to the schools - several taverns, of course, as well as tailors, blades and arms smiths, magical sundries and a few restaurants and cafes. A large bath house is an extremely popular hangout for the students, and was actually one of the first buildings to be restored to its former glory after the city was retaken.
Now back within the city walls, Aerona tugs at Jesker's hand. After awakening in the sylvan hideaway, Jesker had mostly been quiet and morose - prone to random fits of sobbing tears followed by longer periods of silent melancholy. "Come on, Jesker, we need to get you looked at. I'll help take him to the hospital. Thank you so much, Lord-Commander, and all of you, for coming to help us."
Jesker nods. "Yeah. Thanks," he echoes, his voice cool and distant.
Valais stands nearby, reviewing her notes from the previous few days and fixing some spots where the ink had smudged. "Well, what next?" she asks with a lop-sided sort of grin.
Ary is quiet for most of the trip across the Wounded Lands, only speaking up when spoken to or to provide additional information on things as they went such as pointing out dangers or adding to an ongoing conversation.
As the cool air begins to encroach upon their little hideaway, Ary looks to Jesker and Aerona, checking to see if they had adequate winter clothing. If they didn't, she would provide one of them with her cloak, and provide the other with an Endure Elements spell. Before Xanderghul prepares for bed, she asks him to prepare Sending for in the morning, to report to Sosiel what had occurred... and report the possible need for an atonement spell. If informed that this was beyond Sosiel's capabilities, she would instead ask for him to once more reach out to the Second Swords, in this case to Ser Velthur Abranci to request a cleric capable of such a task be made ready to travel to Drezen for a day or so, if the Crusades could afford to do so. An Erastilian would be preferred, if available. If the response is in the affirmative, she would ask Ehren to use his ability to walk the Ley to go pick the cleric up once they returned to Drezen.
Once they arrive back at Drezen, she nods her thanks to the pair who scan the group, but tilts her head slightly when they find nothing strange with Jesker. She glances in his general direction, but the corrupt magic that had touched him for so long did not escape her knowledge, and thus did not escape her notice.
"You're free to go anywhere that you'd like, including following along with me, Unafe." Ary says, watching the woman-raptor for a moment, before turning her attention back to Jesker and Aerona as they begin to make for the hospital. "I'll be going with Jesker to ensure that everything goes well. I'll be sticking with him for the rest of the day, probably. After getting checked up in the hospital, we should probably head by the Cathedral... to explain what happened and aid in any clean-up we can manage." she says, before looking directly at Jesker and offering a small smile, "Nothing of real value was permanently harmed, after all."
Isilme spends the night quietly once inside the sanctum, setting her cloak down on the ground to reveal the night sky to her, and then recounting the stars' names one by one. When she finishes her prayer she once again wraps herself in her cloak and then falls asleep.
The next day she makes use of endure elements to shield herself from the bitter cold. Upon arriving in Drezen, she breathes a sigh of relief, glad that the return trip had been uneventful.
With none of the group having been able to identify the necklace, she heads to meet up with Ai'sintar to get his help in determining how it was enchanted. Ehren had at least been able to divine that the magic it carried was far stronger than either of the other items they'd found. Unsurprisingly, she finds him in his tower poring over various magic texts on warding, something he had been spending a great deal of time on now that the city had the resources available. The sword of valor only protected against demons and their cultists, after all.
Entering through the window, though now simply flying instead of having polymorphed, she drifts over to his desk and lands gently, leaning over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. "We are back, although I don't know for how long. Quite a bit happened out there that you'll be interested in hearing about. For now, however, do you think you could have a look at this?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Xanderghul wards himself with endure elements. When Ary asks him to contact a cleric about an atonement, Xanderghul decides to skip the go-between and the ameliorating language choices and just contact Ser Abranci.
He clings to Ehren Heron's feathers with the rest of the group, white-knuckled with teeth clenched. Gods, he hated this mode of travel. Still, it got them out of demon-infested territory in just a few hours, and Xander is actually happy to see the flowers and trees sprouting from the ground when they get near Drezen. That was the way that things were supposed to look.
Touching down is a good moment for Xanderghul. He slides to the ground and digs his boots into the ground.
When they reach the city, he turns to Unafe. "If you want someplace to rest, I'm sure one of us can find you someplace. There is a tree in the center of the city -- Mother Heartwood. A Kellid tribe makes its home near the tree. I bet you'll be most comfortable there."
Then he turns to Valais, "Next, I need you to get me everything we have on the Demetae lands. The Demetae themselves, the geography there, local demonic threats, whatever you can find. Take whatever time you nee to rest and then get to work on research. Grab student interns if you like, but only those who are already studying geography or the Kellids."
Then Xanderghul heads into his campus, robe flapping. He wants an update, to see if anything happened in the two days they were gone.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Deeming the spot unlikely to be discovered, Ehren drew on what remained of his latent mythic power to cast his spell. A ring of white light formed on the patch of ground before fading away, leaving in its place a barely perceptible groove, carved deep into the earth. With a gesture, the druid then bid the circle to rise a few inches out of the ground and then move over, exposing the newly formed space below. Once everyone entered the portal, Ehren gestured again, prompting the trapdoor to seal itself behind them.
After a short drop into the hideaway, a sloped passage led down a dozen or so feet before terminating into a large, round chamber. At the very center of the room sat a large, unassuming pillar of stone, surrounded by a number of concentric circles, etched into the ground. The pillar itself ran all the way up to the peak of the domed ceiling. Along the rounded walls of the chamber protruded several slabs of stone, about the size of an ordinary bed, one for each person present. At least some consideration for comfort had been given; what seemed to be a thick layer of soft, loamy soil sits atop each slab, held together by tangles of roots. Near the entrance of the chamber was a pair of similarly softened stone benches, set on opposite sides of the passage - ideal for keeping watch on the hideaway’s only entrance.
Ehren only stayed awake a while longer before settling down for the night, aware that he had a long flight (and a heavy load) waiting for him. He wanted to speak to Ary and Hinagiku, but the layout of his hideaway did not lend itself well to privacy. Still, it certainly came of use during his journey west of Drezen, with Lann and the rest of the scouting party. Fortunately, Ehren’s confidence in his spell proves justified, the night passing by without any unwelcome visitors. Though he has to carry three more people and a very heavy crystal coffin, the druid has little difficulty flying their way home in his heron form. After a thankfully stormless flight, he touches down outside of Drezen, where they would continue their journey into the city on foot. As though to signify his resignation from his role as the team’s transport, he promptly removes Ary’s muleback cords and hands them back to her.
True to his word, the first thing he does is retrieve Paddy from his pocket and set him on the ground - in an instant, the stone figurine grows back to the horse’s full size, none the wiser about his stasis. As they enter the city proper, Ehren walks close to Unafe, explaining to her the particulars of the crusaders’ screening process and answering any questions she might have about the city.
He watches as Ary heads off with Jesker and Aerona, hoping that the misguided priest could find some kind of atonement. It bothered him greatly that they had been so close to losing the poor man - had they failed to save him, his soul would have been punished for actions that he was not even fully responsible for. It bothered him even more that the root of evil had been someone who many of his people once revered.
Not all of the old ways will have a place in this new Sarkoris, he reminds himself, still reeling from the memory he received from his ancestors. Indeed, if he had his way, Delamere’s teachings would never again see the light of day. Her very name would be uttered as nothing more than a warning to those who would take advantage of his people’s devotion.
”Much of the Worldwound is an inhospitable wasteland,” Ehren explains to Unafe, when Xanderghul mentions Mother Heartwood. ”Its demonic essence tainted the land, killing all that grows on it, or otherwise twisting it into some manner of monstrosity. No food can be grown within its reach, and even that which is brought into it from the outside is at risk of being tainted. Under those circumstances, establishing any sort of permanent base was once impossible.” The druid smiles. ”But Mother Heartwood changed all of that. Her very presence restores some semblance of purity to the land, allowing life to exist where none could before.”
"Understood. Expect response within two weeks."
Abranci, like Xanderghul, was economical in his language.
The paladin rushing you all along is being a little too pushy, she's coming off as kind of shady.
Xanderghul enters the main body of his campus. At one point, his school was housed within a singular mansion's expanse, but over the last year he has expanded to take up a total of four buildings - one dormitory, one building dedicated to research, one building dedicated to lectures, and another dedicated to administrative tasks as well as housing the library.
As soon as he enters the central building, he seeks out members of his staff to get the research he needs done as soon as possible. There is some initial confusion over his appearance, but the other professors and resident researchers quickly get over it. He turns to find one of his original students, the tiefling Stryve Potter waiting for him. He had been standing quietly in the background, listening to his superior dole out tasks.
"Professor," he says, once acknowledged. "There's been someone here for two days now, wanting to see you. Think he wants to sell you something."
Leading Xanderghul back to one of the study rooms of the library, he is introduced to a robed middle-age man with impressive sideburns. "Ahhh, this is the Xanderghul himself, at last! It is an honor to meet you, it really is.."
Stryve backs away towards the door and waggles both eyebrows at his professor before excusing himself.
He pulls out an impressively beautiful ivory rod, emblazoned with nine golden runes. Each rune is in Celestial, and each is represents a synonym for "selflessness".
"I can tell from your school that you are a man of good taste.... you know value when you see it... so do I have something of interest to sell you..."
Isilme heads up to the wizard's tower in search of Aravashnial, but finds that he hasn't returned from his trip to Osirion (though last she had heard, his travels had taken him to Thuvia), away on a research trip intended to discover alternative uses of the Heavenly ley that now flowed beneath Drezen. She does get in touch with Quednys, tidying up his classroom after a particularly messy lesson, it would seem, humming as he whisks his hands to and fro to magick the messes away.
He puts on his spectacles to better examine the necklace Isilme brings to him. "Oh. That's some strong evocation magic on this. Divine, certainly. Unlikely to be man-made... perhaps some sort of Outsider?" He smiles, taking off his glasses and wiping away a smudge with the hem of his robe. "I'm sorry to say, magic of this calibre is well beyond my capabilities."
Mama Calongoed, or Mother Heartwood, was a minor deity worshipped in ancient Sarkoris. She manifested as a beautiful tree with white bark and golden leaves, and was guarded by a family of druids that protected her for many generations. It is said the druids had the ability to travel with Mother Heartwood, bringing her to clans that had fallen into hard times - famine, disease, where her mere presence would increase the bounty of all crops grown by soil blessed by her.
She was never needed by the Demetae, whose shamanistic protectors carefully tended to a delicate ecosystem of man and megafauna, but stories and songs about her travelled far and wide back in the old days.
Xander steps into the study room without strong expression. He takes in the man's appearance -- common enough to be forgettable -- and examines the rod that he holds. He holds out a hand for the rod as his eyes flare with detect magic.
"Where did you hear about me?" he asks the man, "And what makes you think I might want this rod?"
Such overwhelming magic can only be some sort of artifact. Xanderghul discerns that whatever is on it, the magic is divine transmutation magic. But he does not understand what it is actually capable of.
Valais closes the door as Stryve leaves and quietly stands behind Xanderghul, only sitting down if he does. She flicks to a different tab in her notes, one designated for accounting and administrative notation, and begins scribbling.
The man's smile broadens. "Your accomplishments precede you - I've heard stories of you from Ustalav to Galt to Absalom. I've travelled a long way with this rod, knowing of it's power..." He watches Xanderghul carefully, nodding. "Yes, you must clearly see it, yes? I've travelled all this way to find a worthy person to wield it. Are you interested?"
Though he is trying his best to hide it, this man is anxious and desperate. He is sweaty, his breathing shallow.
You don't think he actually knows much about this rod. He's trying to cover up his own ignorance with airy words of little substance.
The flesh on his fingers and right palm, grasped tightly around the golden rod, is chafed and raw.
Xander does not sit, choosing instead to stand ominously behind the man. He frowns deeply at the realization of the object's power, but he reaches out to take hold of it nonetheless. "Such an impressive object," he says, slowly, "You want to get rid of it? If you're not a powerful person yourself -- and I daresay I guess that you're not -- you might want to keep it. I already possess a powerful staff."
"For curiosity's sake, though -- what price are you asking for it?"
Valais leans over and murmurs into Xander's ear: "I'm not getting the impression he knows much about what it does," she says, softly.
Xanderghul grabs the rod, but the man snatches his hand back as if stung.
He smiles broadly. "Fifty---Ahh!" He groans, as the rod's runes suddenly flare a brilliant crimson color. "Five. Five thousand gold. That's all. So, is it a deal, or should I pack my things?"
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The walk to the campsite isn’t long--Unafe has chased dakotaraptors further without working up a sweat--but as the flush of battle ebbed she felt a deep, painful ache growing in her muscles. She passed most of the walk with her brow furrowed in thought.
When Xander declared he’d take the first watch, she squinted and thought, Are they going to let HIM watch while they sleep, after what he just did to the soldier, Ary? I should stand watch with him, even if the Archdruid is careless enough to trust him, so that I can make sure he does no Evil...but as she tried to open her mouth and announce her plan, she felt the ache and exhaustion grow past her will to dismiss them.
Sicrwydd jumped up onto Unafe’s shoulder, looked at her sternly, and cooed. With a weak smile, Unafe stroked the gen cain’s back and whispered, ”Iawn, un bach, digon teg. Gwely ydyw.”
Within moments, she was curled under her furs in a corner, and was out--still wearing her mithral breastplace, the tiny saurian nuzzled beside her, while the spirits that surround her settled into a gentle buzz.
Unafe wakes: shivering a bit, despite her armor’s enchantment, and pulls her fur tighter around her. Truly, I am far from home.
When the Archdruid transforms into a bird the size of a tyrannosaur, she gasps aloud. ”Gwych yw eich pwerau, Etifedd Brenin y Hydref.” she whispers.
As they fly over Sarkoris, Unafe clutches Ehren’s feathers tightly at first, but soon finds an easeful balance with the massive bird-druid's wingbeats. After a while Unafe stands--wind in her face--and leans over to stare silently at what Sarkoris has been reduced to. She frowns, biting her lip, fists tight at her side. They were not deceiving me. All of Sarkoris has been ravaged. Ruined. They claim that the Demetae yet live, and so my heart yet lives...but if this has happened here, what has become of the Taranau Valley? How fare my people, and our Saurian sisters?
She is still lost in thought as she follows the Archdruid and the Crusaders, but her rumination is disturbed when she begins to realize, first, just how large this city is...and then how full it is of Southerners. ”Wnes i ddim dychmygu y gallai dinas fod mor ... helaeth. Sut daeth cymaint o Southerners i fyw yn Sarkoris? A ddaethon nhw â'r malltod hwn gyda ni ar ein tir?”
Unafe cranes her neck, trying to make sense of the comings and goings of those Kellids who do seem to dwell here. After a moment more, she adds, ”Sut mae cymaint o bobl yn byw mewn un gofod, heb gysgu yn gwastraff ei gilydd?!?”
Despite herself, as they walk deeper into Southbank, Unafe finds herself unexpectedly intrigued. What is that delicious roasted meat they are serving in that building? And look at those children, playing with a glowing ball!
She's far too struck by the novel horrors and wonders of the city to dwell long on any one person's motives or behavior...but her ears perk up at the mention of the Mother Heartwood. ”Mama Calongoed? I never met her--she didn’t journey to the Taranau Valley in my lifetime--but Old Aye sang songs about her:
Plannwch eich calon o dan ei boughs euraidd /
Byddwch chi'n medi bounty y Gwyrdd /
Mama Calongoed, Mama Calongoed /
Gwneud neithdar o fy nagrau.”
As Unafe sings, the ancestor-spirits grow momentarily less frenetic, and some even seem to sing along with her.
”To meet the great Mama Calongoed would be an honor. If one of you would take me to her, I would be grateful.”
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Valais knows without a doubt that her teacher is tempted by that sort of deal. Five thousand gold was barely enough for a simple magic item, and this traveler was apparently offering an artifact. With an inner smile, Valais decides to interject to try and bring the price down before Xander can accept. "Sir," she begins, "We are leaders of a nation at war. Every gold piece we spend is one not being spent on a healing potion or a sword for a frontline soldier."
"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but the Professor here is also an educator who takes in orphans. Money spent on this unknown rod you have would take away the funds for that, as well. Could we convince you to lower it just a little bit? For the orphans?"
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Xander watches the man carefully. Unexpected guests could always be a danger, though by this time Xander has ruled out that the man is some sort of strange demon. The flaring on the runes catches the professor's interest, though he does his best not to betray his surprise on his face.
Xander is ready to accept without a moment's hesitation when Valais speaks up. Five thousand gold is a nothing sum, gathered from the dead demonic cultists on a single outing with Ary and their compatriots. Xander, furthermore, had just acquired for the group a massive windfall of income from the Pathfinder Society. If anyone complained about the surprise expenditure, he would be able to smooth it over.
Regardless of whether or not he wanted to use this item personally -- if Xander had to guess, it was compelling its bearer to not overcharge -- it was still an artifact, and worthy of study. A bearer could be found, and its power could be utilized.
Worst-case scenario, it would make a lovely office decoration.
He speaks up in support of Valais' bluff, as well. "I would accept without hesitation, traveler, but I'm afraid Valais is right. I would need to check the academy ledgers to be sure I wouldn't be depriving a new student of his textbooks by purchasing a shiny new rod for myself."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Ary had gone through what appeared to be some sort of ritual just as the others seemed to be awakening. She began with kata near the entryway, practiced and measured movements, shifting her balance and ensuring she can hold postures for a time, then after she moves into a genuflect position. She holds her shield outwards towards the trapdoor and places the solid gold and vibrantly glowing sword between herself and the shield, remaining in a kneeling position. The effect leaves a crimson hue spread across the entry way as the light plays through the kite-shaped shield. By the time Xanderghul finishes preparing and casting his spell, she's beginning to rise.
"That... will not do. Ehren, I know you're going to be exhausted, and you'll have been busy, but would you mind taking us to Nerosyan this evening?" she asks, as she pulls out a years-old well-weathered notebook. She flips through until she finds an empty corner, and begins to scribble for a moment, before snapping the notebook shut and placing it back into the bag of holding.
* * *
"We followed the demons, I'm afraid." Ary remarks, sticking to Taldane, "Between this and Lastwall, the worshippers of Iomedae have a neverending Crusade. But at least we aren't openly at war with Cheliax thanks to how busy we are with more existential threats." she looks as though she is going to respond to the back half as well, but then gives a small shrug and moves her hand back to her side.
"I will have check in with a few people, first. As will you, I imagine," Ehren replies, eyeing Ary's notebook curiously, but not prying. "But I do not believe that will be a problem."
"Daeth y malltod o'r tu mewn, heb ei ryddhau gan un o'n pobl ein hunain," Ehren replies, his expression darkening somewhat. "Gwrach Undarin, Areelu Vorlesh. Hi a gynllwyniodd gyda Deskari i agor y clwyf o dan Iz."
"Er bod llawer o'n pobl yn gwerthfawrogi eu balchder yn ormod o lawer i'w gyfaddef, oni bai am y Croesgadau, byddai'r holl obaith am Sarkoris wedi'i golli."
The druid softens somewhat, realizing that his tone might be taken as a patronizing one. As Unafe marvels at the city's size he chuckles, remembering the first time he stepped foot into Kenabres. He could only imagine how she would react if he brought her to Nerosyan. Perhaps we should ease her into that one.
"Hm, rwy'n credu mai'r gair amdano yw seilwaith," he explains, though he is not at all versed in city planning.
Ehren perks up somewhat when Unafe recognizes Mother Heartwood's name. He supposes that he should not be surprised, considering that the archdruid who created her predates Vorian and even his predecessor by many years.
"I can take you to her," he offers, gesturing towards Paradise Hill.
Isilme thanks Quednys for his effort and takes off--literally--to find another way to deal with the necklace. At this point she was unwilling to abandon her quest until her curiosity had been sated.
This time she intended to use magic to bolster her ability to identify the magic of the amulet. Buying scrolls was easy enough to do in Drezen now, so it took almost no time at all to locate a scroll of identify to aid her in her task. She then heads to meet up with Xanderghul, who would likely have the best shot at making use of the spell.
Landing outside the Academy, she heads in and towards Xanderghul's office, letting herself in without knocking."Xander, I have something for you to look at," she begins, holding up a scroll with Delamere's necklace wrapped around it. She quickly realizes that Xander and Valais are entertaining a visitor, "Oh, my apologies. Don't mind me, we can talk when you're done here," she says, notably not leaving the room.
Finding a spot on the wall to lean against, she flips the scroll and necklace absent-mindedly while she waits for Xander to finish his business with his visitor.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The man with the enormous sideburns' face falls as soon as Valais gives opposition. He forces his face into a pained smile. "Fine... for the orphans, please, go ahead and take it."
He offers it out for Xanderghul to take from his hand. He flinches as Isilme barges into the room, but quickly returns his focus to Xanderghul, shaking the rod at him once more to ensure he still has the headmaster's attention.
Ehren, Unafe, and Hinagiku then leave for Paradise Hill. Since Ary, Aerona, and Jesker were headed there anyway, as the crusader hospital was located there, they end up just leaving as one large group.
Paradise Hill is located northeast from Southbank, and involves crossing one of the many stone bridges across the empty riverbank. All of them were completed and re-fortified during the first year of Drezen's reconstruction, and the task of clearing out the riverbed of horrific biomechanical monstrosities was a task the heroes would never forget. Now the deep riverbed was restored to a small, bubbling brook, and Crocris, a druid and appointed Magister of Agriculture, believed that the river could be fully restored after a few more decades of natural weather.
Paradise Hill is a district built atop a large hill on whose peak sits a large watchtower. The watchtower has since been converted into Drezen's largest hospital, managed by the dhampir crusader, Ser Markus the Grey, though armed Crusaders can be seen manning at its top. In the hospital's courtyard sits Mother Heartwood, an 80 ft tall white-barked tree with golden leaves. A large park and clearing has been carved out beneath her boughs, and a small dwelling has been carved out beneath her roots. The Archdruid formerly lived here during the early days of Drezen, but has since vacated it to Houna, the spiritual leader of a Sarkorian cult devoted to the tree.
The other buildings on Paradise Hill tend to be industrial in nature, devoted to producing the arrows, nails, screws, bars, blades and plates required of such a large military force. These buildings are interspersed with occasional private dwellings, mostly owned by tradespeople.
Ehren brings them to a stop beneath Mother Heartwood's branches. It feels peaceful and tranquil there. Two armed kellids stand on either side of the entrance to the dwelling beneath her roots. One is an older woman in her sixties, built like a brick, her partner a younger man wearing a hood that mostly obscures his face. Both wield spears, and have bows and quivers attached to their backs.
The small park around Mother Heartwood includes two traditional Sarkorian roundhouses, used by the families of Houna's people. A few dozen Sarkorian kellids are seen about, some working on looms or working leather at tanning racks, others cooking dinner (stew in an enormous iron pot). Their children play around outside nearby, and several stop to stare as they glimpse Unafe, who is always shrouded by a veil of ancestor spirits and saurians. This wasn't much different from the Southerners, whose heads would turn as she passed by, but upon seeing she walked with Lord-Commander Bishop, would respectfully go back about their business. The kellid children, though, are quick to notice that Unafe was dressed not too unlike they were, and their stares linger.
Isilme eyes the visitor as he waves the rod at Xanderghul, wondering why he flinched when she entered the room. She'd only heard a few words, and it was clear he was offering Xander something, apparently for free. It wasn't entirely unexpected, given he was a Venture Captain; rarities and antiquities often passed through the hands of Venture Captains when recovered, and Xanderghul was one of the highest profile members of the Pathfinder Society in the region.
The man is desperate and anxious. He is sweaty, his breathing shallow, his free hand trembling.
Isilme discerns that he is afraid of her, based on how he looked at her.
As Isilme studies the man she's surprised to find him such a mess. If her entry had struck fear into him it was likely that he was trying to conceal something in regards to his visit. She eyes him more closely for a moment, then turns to Xanderghul inserting herself into the conversation.
"Your guest here is awfully anxious, almost desperate, Xander," she says, "and my presence here seems to have unsettled him greatly. What exactly is it he's offering you?"
Xander gestures at the beautiful rune-engraved ivory rod in the unfortuate-hair-man's hand. "It seems to be a magical artifact," he says. "And he's offering it for free. Mighty suspicious, but I think I'll take it. Can you leave it on the table, there?"
"No. For the magic to work it has to be accepted willingly..." the man with the enormous sideburns insists. He shakes the rod once more, bug-eyed.
Xander just shrugs, nonchalant, and grabs onto the rod. "Alright, if you insist."
The man finally releases his grasp onto the rod. He takes a step back, flexing his fingers. "You won't regret it!" he coughs out, and without another word, heads straight for the door.
Nothing dramatic happens when Xanderghul takes hold of the artifact, so if the artifact possesses consciousness, it isn't a pushy one. Its effects are just a subtle rippling effect across his very being as it automatically tunes into his aura.
Xanderghul's mastery over arcane magic immediately keys him into the basic function of the rod: it can be used to augment metamagic, much like other magical rods. But unlike usual metamagic rods, it requires the subject to already know metamagic to use it at all.
Looking at the rod more closely, he notices that it has a cap, with a seam, but he cannot unscrew it if he tries.
Isilme watches the guest leave the room immediately after Xanderghul takes the rod. She eyes him curiously, though surprisingly enough, nothing happens. "Well? Anything?" she asks as she walks over to him.
"When you're done playing with that, you should have a look at this. So far Ehren and Quednys have failed to glean anything about its function. I brought along a scroll of identify, and my magic of course. I figured if we put our heads together, perhaps we could determine what its purpose is." She sets the necklace down on the table along with the scroll.
Experimentally, Xanderghul tries to use utilize the rod. Without being sure what it's supposed to feel like, he tries to call on the rod's power. Looking out the window, he causes an illusory image of himself to appear as far away from himself as he can manage, enhancing its potency as well -- if it's possible to do so.
Then he tries to put the rod down on the table. He hopes he's able to let go of it. He needs both his hands.
He looks at Isilme, with the amulet. "It was a mistake to take that, Isilme," he says. "I'm not sure I agree with helping you use it."
Channeling the rod's power, 2 golden runes glow from the rod's surface, fading gradually to silver, creating a persistent silent image. Xanderghul was already capable of casting image spells to the limits of his capabilities as a wizard. Afterwards, he sets the rod down.
Valais steps to the side, sketching an image of the rod, as wielded by Xanderghul. On the opposite page she sketches a close-up image of the rod.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Daeth y malltod o'r tu mewn, heb ei ryddhau gan un o'n pobl ein hunain," Ehren replies, his expression darkening somewhat. "Gwrach Undarin, Areelu Vorlesh. Hi a gynllwyniodd gyda Deskari i agor y clwyf o dan Iz."
"Er bod llawer o'n pobl yn gwerthfawrogi eu balchder yn ormod o lawer i'w gyfaddef, oni bai am y Croesgadau, byddai'r holl obaith am Sarkoris wedi'i golli."
Unafe's face betrays disgust. So it really was a Kellid witch who undid the world...and the Southern witches really came to help? If something like this can be true, how much more of what Old Aye taught me is wrong? The saurian shaman shivers at the thought, and then forces it from her mind.
. . .
As they walk, Unafe continues to crane her neck at the city’s many odd noises, to stare curiously at the strange shops...and to feel a surge of excitement at the smell of bread baking, and then--a few doors down--of roasting lamb. When she smells the lamb she almost asks the Archdruid if they can stop to eat some, but instead decides to settle for the aroma for now, and continues on to meet Mama Calongoed.
When Unafe gets her first glimpse of Her, she gasps, runs past the guards, and the staring children--certain of her place here--and throws herself at Mama Calongoed’s roots, saying ”Mama Calongoed, Rydych chi'n fwy rhyfeddol nag y mae'r caneuon yn ei ddweud! Os gwelwch yn dda clywed fy ngweddïau, Un Mawr, er mwyn imi wasanaethu ewyllys yr ‘Ancestors’ eto - bod fy nhynged, a fy Nghalon Ancestor yn cael eu cyflawni!”
Only then does she lift her face from the great, white bark to look at the faces of the guards, and the children. She gives a nod of respect to the elder guard, and then to the young guard and the children and says, ”Cyfarchion! Bydded i'r Hynafiaid fod gyda chi bob amser. Rwy'n Unafe Dau-Galon y Demetae. Pwy wyt ti? Ydych chi'n trigo yma, yng nghysgod Mama Calongoed?”
The spirits surround her seem to buzz louder in the presence of Mama Calongoed.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The sight of Mother Earthwood always inspired hope in Hinagiku. Each time she looked upon its incredible size she was reminded of the power of the Ley and how it was able to reclaim the land from the Wound of the World, slowly healing it. She knew that for many Kellids, it was much more than that, but despite this, she never expected Unafe would react in such a strong way.
"Ehren-kun, was the worship of Mother Earthwood much stronger a hundred years ago?" she asks, wondering whether Unafe was simply a really vocal person. After all, she had spoken out loudly to the world at least three times in the last 24 hours.
Watching the Demetae for a few moments, Hinagiku then addresses Ary, just as she is making her way toward the hospital.
"Ary, I will be going to fetch one of my books from the temple of the Master of masters. Where would you want us to meet back for our trip to Unafe's people? And in how long?"
Once aware of the schedule, Hinagiku makes her way to her cell to find Body Outside Body. The search for the person who had desecrate the shrine had reminded Hinagiku of the knowledge the tome held, and how useful it could be to bring it with her.
"Very much so," Ehren replies to Hinagiku, nodding as he watches Unafe prostrate before the god-tree. "She has been around since ancient times. Many clans were in direct contact with her back then, and saw for themselves what her power could do."
So very few of us remember what it was like, before the Worldwound opened, the archdruid reflects, tapping his fingers along the crook of his staff. Even fewer have lived it. How hard must this be for her? She did not learn of our homeland's fall through stories, as I did.
As Unafe addresses the onlookers, Ehren moves to her side, smiling pleasantly at the guards and children. He looks up at the majestic white tree and calls out, speaking in the tongue of the land.
“Mama Calongoed, an bhféadfaimis torthaí a thógáil ó do bhacaí?”
"Taking an item from a dead demon worshipper is a problem?" Isilme says, rolling her eyes. "I must admit, I wasn't aware you were offering courses on applied hypocrisy here now. Congratulations! You certainly haven't spared any expense on having a qualified professor for it. Seriously, a Venture Captain complaining that an artifact shouldn't have been taken from a ruins is truly a master class on the subject, Bravo!" She claps for the wizard briefly before picking the scroll and necklace back up.
She turns and heads towards the door, turning back to remark on Xanderghul's new toy briefly. "Well, good luck with that artifact, I hope for your sake it is not as shady as the person who brought it to you." She waves at Xander and Valais before letting herself out and wandering back out of the academy.
Once out, she heads back to her own residence and unfurls the scroll. If she could not get others to aid in it, she would decipher the purpose of the necklace herself. Pulling out her spell book, she first takes the time to record the spell inside it for use tomorrow, then sets the necklace and spellbook aside for the next morning.
That evening she prepares bestow insight along with identify in order to identify the necklace in the morning. First thing the next day, she rises and proceeds to enchant herself with heroism, bestow insight and guidance before invoking the Song of Spheres power to further guide her research into the magical item.
She then casts identify and begins studying the necklace in detail.
Xander does not give Isilme the satisfaction of a response, simply crossing his arms and watching her as she leaves his office. An insult, when she had come to him to ask for help? It puzzled him that she was choosing a looted magic item over friendly relations.
Xander finds a case in which to store the new rod. Then he goes into his school. His goal is to find a group of students willing to research the rod's history -- without touching it. He gives them access to the rod, although he assigns Valais as a chaperone and supervisor. His instructions are to find out what the rod is and what it does. Where it came from, its history, anything else they can find out about it. He tells them everything he knows about the person who brought it to him, most notably the man's suspicious and fearful behavior. He makes sure to mention the time that the man attempted to charge fifty thousand gold, only for the rod to flare and change his mind.
Next, he heads out into the city to find Jesker. His first destination is the Erastilian shrine. If he can't find Jesker, he can probably find Aerona, who would know where Jesker is. According to Abranci, it would be two weeks until a magical solution could be found for the man. He would need to be taken care of during that time.
It was nice to move throughout Drezen without being the first person noticed for a change. Ary was used to all of the heads turning towards her, including those of the Kellid population. What she wasn't used to was the inherent look of awe and wonder on their faces.
Truth be told, Ary had been waiting for the spirits to go away for the better part of hours, and had reached the point that she was going to broach the topic of what they were when Hinagiku called her attention to her need to retrieve something from home before their trip.
"I actually don't know." Ary responds to Hinagiku. "I was thinking in the evening after wounds - and hopefully spirits - are mended a bit." she says, nodding to Jesker and Unafe, grim look fading slightly at the exuberance of the Kellid woman and the interactions with the people around her.
As she looked from her to the pair of guards speaking it became apparent for the first time that this location was actually separate and distinct from the rest of the city. There was a very strong culture here that didn't inherently match what she'd grown to know in Kenabres - but it was also distinct from all of the Kellid settlements that they had visited. Perhaps it would be this way in Sesker's Gulley some day.
She sticks with the group as they approach the tree, the inherent wonder of it having faded long ago. It was something that they'd succeeded in and now had the benefit of improving life for everyone else... but there was still so much to do. Onwards and upwards as it were.
She begins to speak up as Unafe once more gets drawn into the environment, and opts to wait her turn instead.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The two kellid guards watch Unafe from afar as she approaches. They don’t move or seem surprised at her reaction to Mother Heartwood. Kellids came from faraway places to come see her. Some ended up staying near Drezen, others returned home filled with new longing for a time and way of life nearly forgotten. ”Cyfarfod da, Unafe of the Demetae. Dewi ydw i, a Mallt yw hwn. Mae ein pobl yn byw mewn gwasanaeth i Mama Calongoed, y goeden ddwyfol sy’n dod â bounty i bawb o dan ei changhennau. Ydych chi wedi dod o bell mewn pererindod i weld Ei?”
”Well met, Unafe of the Demetae. I am Dewi, and this is Mallt. Our people live in service to Mama Calongoed, the divine tree who brings bounty to all beneath her branches. Have you come from far in pilgrimage to see Her?”
As they talk, a bold child, perhaps six or seven in age, moves close enough to Unafe to press a long, white stick into the spirits swirling around her. He cries out with surprise and scampers back as one of the saurian spirits roars fearsomely in response, dropping the stick as a result.
”Bendithir y fenyw hon gan ysbrydion ei hynafiaid. Byddwch yn barchus, blentyn,” scolds his mother.
”This woman is blessed by her ancestor spirits. Be respectful, child.”
Neither kellid is amazed when the tree starts to stir slowly in response to the Archdruid’s words. A long heavy branch extends downwards to his feet, laden with three large purple fruits.