GM Rednal's War of the Burning Sky (Inactive)

Game Master Rednal

Uhh okay, back.

Ridley seemed visibly deserved by Umbriak's level of honesty, especially the part about being actually approached and given instructions by Indomitability (though he was satisfied by omission of the Devil), and shook his head, waiting to see the fairy's reply.

<"Nay, that seems to be all that is relevant to the situation at hand.">
Farod was glad that Umbriak had not mentioned Krystin, Torrent, and the old Man. If things went bad, at least they were save.
Of course, he had more questions of the Fey Elder, but did not wish to overwhelm him more questions before giving him a chance to respond to everything Umbriak brought up.

1.: I think we left the Fey downstairs for the others to tend to them, did we not? 2.: Ridley, I think your statline needs updating ;)

Papuvin listened patiently as Umbriak explained things. <"I suspect those were followers of Vuhl. He believes that it is time for us to stop singing the Song of Forms... but it is our duty to keep it going no matter what may happen."> he said firmly. <"If you are looking for a way to put the fires out, then you are welcome to rest here as you desire.">

Umbriak bowed his thanks. <"Rest is appreciated. We also use magic - a potion - that allows us to move within the fires of the forest without being destroyed. Would you use something similar, as I noticed your own folk do not burn outside the village walls, or does your song protect you?"

The Dwarf filed away Vuhl as someone to potentially speak to later, if he was seeking to end the song. Maybe he was simply tired and worn but this life. Maybe there was something else there.

<"What do YOU believe would happen, then, if you stopped singing?"> Ridley asked, growing slightly annoyed with the deflections of the fey.

"From what I gathered so far, stopping to sing would not bode well for your kind. I have...reasons to disagree with this course of action, which are my own."
Specifically, if a Devil wants that, I am certain that I don't want that. But no need for that Fey to know about THAT.
"We would speak with the Dryad to learn more. She had crafted the blade. Surely, she would know what they had planned. Tiljann was unable to tell us what Anyariel had intended to do with Indomitability, but I am most certain that pinning it to a lake alive and turning the forest into THIS was not part of whatever plans they had. Yet the girl told us the Dryad does not welcome visitors...do you have an suggestion on how to get her into a more friendly mood? A gift we might bring, perhaps, or vouching for us?"

Papuvin just looked at Ridley for a few moments. <"I believe we would die."> he answered simply. <"Not everyone in town agrees with me, but I believe it is better to try and continue living than to simply welcome death for one and all. What was the saying you mortals had? Mmm... ah. 'Life is pain'. It's a little more literal than we would prefer, but... it is what it is. Timbre has refused to see one and all, but if anyone knows a way through... Gwenvere might. Her pool is some four miles from here, as we fly.">

"<Die, how? This 'Indomitability' thing seems to be offering great rewards to anyone offering to release it...>"

Raising a slightly shaggy eyebrow, Umbriak asked, <"Do I understand correctly? You who sing the song have endured pain ever since this creature was captured?"> The Berserker looked quite impressed by that. And moderately horrified. "Och, I'm glad me own shammies nay be in that vice."

<"I am afraid that name is not one I am immediately familiar with,"> Umbriak added, <"So, pray, can you speak more of Gwenvere? If she can help us gain an audience with Timbre, then we should know how to approach her.">

<"And if I was of weaker moral conviction, I could offer you a great deal of riches and eternal life if you slay the king of the Ragesians. Creatures desperate will offer anything they think will get people to further their interests. The threat of death seems more real to me, than anything this beast offered after attacking us in an failed attempt to force us into servitude.">, Farod picked up on Ridleys statement, before returning to listen again when Umbriak asked about Gwenvere - things grew more intricate by the minute, and he was very interested in knowing what her relation to the Dryad or the Elven Hero was.

<"The Song of Forms gives Indomitability a physical form, and so it is trapped."> Papuvin explained calmly. <"We believe it is the creature's own nature that prevents others from dying if they are infused with its power - and so they burn endlessly but are not consumed. If he were simply released due to the song ending, the flames would yet burn - but all would be consumed, and all of us would perish with the forest. We are tied to it in ways that are... difficult... to explain to mortals.">

<"Gwenvere is... or at least was... a nymph who helped to keep the waters pure and clean. Many in our village believe she was tainted by an unfulfilled, jealous love for Anyariel. The hero's heart was only for the dryad Timbre, however, and even before the forest was set afire, Gwenvere and Timbre were rivals.">

Umbriak nodded sagely, filing away that the key to the nymph, or from the Fey's words whatever the Nymph had become, was likely the paladin. <"Unreturned love has corrupted better hearts than mine," the Warpriest agreed. <"Hopefully she still wishes to aid the Paladin's quest and will honour those that seek to complete it.">

Considering, he added, <"So as long as the song is sung, the creature remains in mortal form. But it's fire infuse the forest and prevent death."> Umbriak remembered the corpses he'd seen, and shuddered slightly. One way or another, by the word or the axe, he would end this place's sufferings. <"If the song is stopped then all shall burn, because you are bound to these flaming woods. But...if the creature dies, the flames will die with it. What would happen to your kind then? Is it only the fires that keep the forest alive now?"> If that were true, there would be no way to save them...

Scratching his beard, Umbriak considered. "If yon Feykin are linked to yon forest, then mayhap another creature with a link to the trees can protect them against a wee fire beastie being all 'ragh, burn!' when released, if we so chose to release it. I thinkies the Dryad is high on the list of sentients to speak with. I cannae imagine another that might be able to allow protections."

Ridley agreed with Umbriak's questions, and waited for an answer.

<"What IS your nature? It would help understand, if you tried to explain. You are linked to the forest, but to what extent? Are you bound here, or could you migrate to a different one? Does the Forest gift you children, or are they created the way us mortals handle that? Do the fires prevent your kind from dying of old age, or are you semi-eternal, similar to the dryad bound to a tree? Forgive my forwardness in asking these questions, but we must learn about what it would mean if we decide to deal with Indomitability in one way or the other - I could not life with the fact if I ended up dooming your kind only trying to help">, Farod added...Umbriak already asked the other questions, and Farod felt it was improper to inquire too deeply into the nature of this interracial polyamorous homoerotic love triangle.

<"If the fires die, we will survive, and bring life anew.>" the elderly fey explained calmly. <"As for what we are... the Song of Forms tells it best. 'So as we were born from the First Tree, so as from our homeland’s breast was cut a living blade, as this our lives are bound to thee, the forest’s heart in Timbre’s glade.'" he answered, a faint rhythm in his tone.

Umbriak nodded thoughtfully again. So, it seemed likely that rather than being tied to the forest, they were linked to one tree in the Dryad's glade - probably the Dryad's own tree, given how these things work. <"Our Thanks. We shall have to listen to the song in its entirety when time permits."> It might hold more clues.

"Aye.", Farod answered, thoughtfully.
This almost opened more questions than it gave answers.
If the Dryad effectively was the mother of all the Fey, courtesy of her tree being bonded to their very existance, then why had she turned her back to them, unwilling to communicate with petitioners?
Hopefully the Nymph had some answers for them.

Ridley... had some difficulty understanding just what the creature was actually trying to say. As a leader of the Fey, sure, it might as well be the most metaphorical and confusing of the things he had talked to today.

Incidentally, you CAN ask them to sing the full song for you - or even teach it to you, if you know Sylvan. The fey girl who guided you here, in particular, is someone who's in a position to do that. XD ...Also, nobody really gave anything else they wanted to do. Gotta push forward somehow, yo.

"This song of forms is both a guarantee for your continued existance, and an essential aspect of nature and history, is it? I would very much like to hear the full song, if that can be done in a reasonable time?", Farod answers, figuring more answers may be hidden in the work of art...things that elude normal talk because one side takes them as granted, and the other does not think to ask about them.

<"Agreed,"> Umbriak said, stroking his beard. <"Learning the song can only do us good. Then, perhaps, we could talk with others in the village who might be able to grant us the gift of information?"> The Dwarf smiled. "Angradd teaches the gift of kenning is one that all should earn before entering a war."

Oh! Didn't realize this was another round of party posts, dang. I respond well to being poked.

Ridley had no interest in songs or history, but as long as the others were interested, he was willing to oblige, for lack of better plans.

Papuvin gestured to the fey that had brought you here. <"Tiljann can teach you the whole song. It will take several hours, but I believe you have the time."> he explained. <"You are, of course, welcome to rest in here once your studies are complete.">

<"Our thanks,"> Umbriak replied with a small nod. Moving over to Tiljann, he bowed slightly. <"When it is convenient, would you be so kind as to teach us the Song of Forms? We feel it might be important to helping.">

Ridley's spell of understanding was already close to ending, but figured the others could teach him the song once they knew it.

<"Aye, what Umbriak said about it's importance. Plus it was your pretty voice that led us towards you and allowed us to meet in the first place. I would be delighted to hear you sing again.">, Farod added, smiling at Tiljann all gentlemanly.

Tiljann nodded and beckoned you over so as not to occupy the other fey's home for too long. Sitting down, she began to sing the first few verses of the song, pausing regularly to explain their meanings and history to you. Quite a few hours pass, and the afternoon is an hour or two away from becoming evening (in the fire-lit forest, it's always hard to tell) by the time she's satisfied that you've remembered enough to be passable at it. Not perfect, perhaps, but good enough to sing it if you needed (or wanted) to.

Those who can speak Sylvan have learned the Song of Forms. Add the following to the Special Abilities section of your profile, removing the space in the formatting tags:

[ b]Song of Forms:[/b] You know the Song of Forms, taught by the fey from the Fire Forest of Innenotdar, and can sing it any time you can speak in a loud voice.

Umbriak bowed his head to the woman. <"Our thanks, lady, for such a gift of knowledge."> Rising to his feet with a stretch, a groan and a series of cracks like rock snapping, the Dwarf grunted. Sitting for so long wasn't something he was used to.

Looking at the others, he asked, "Short light left. Do ye ken we rest our bones and set of at Dawn's kiss? Or try and pack the wee minutes in now?"

"Aye, Miss Tiljann, your patience is much appreciated. I promise I'll practise my singing if I get the chance. Your history is fascinating, but I wonder: Did your kind ever consider venturing forth from the forest? Take a seed of the tree you were born from and grow a new home, outside the fires, then return to sing in shifts?"
Trying to gauge how location-bound they are. In case a battle is inevitable, having a mass of fragile innocent bystanders providing targets for collateral damage may not be desirable. If they can, it could be prudent to get them to move as far away as possible, only leaving a few elite singers behind
To Umbriak, he answers: "I still feel fresh enough to try and get some more done today. With the fires providing light, evening and night have less meaning."

"I don't think we're going anywhere quickly," Ridley says to the others, "And I think too much conversation in Sylvan's got you two speaking in metaphors. But maybe we should scout around for food and lodgings, if we're going to be here a few days."

<"Alas, there are not enough of us for that."> Tiljann answered Farod sadly. <"We have never been very numerous to begin with - we simply don't have the numbers, and this has not exactly been an environment where we could multiply.">

"There are few of you, but you seem to do well enough considering most others would not survive a year in this environment! Certainly, your numbers will grow once we dealt with this fiery stag!", Farod offered cheerfully, hiding the darker thoughts hidden beneath.
The Fey were not very numerous, and in dangerous environments, it was often the weaker members who suffered most...elderly, children, and females. The nature of the assault on Tiljann was as of yet unclear...but a group of males following a single female into the wilderness planning to overpower her took on a very dark pattern if the tribe was short on females. And it was disconcerting that she did not seem to hold a grudge against them.
"Just be extra careful until then, will you? No more trips into alone into the woods?"

Umbriak patted Ridley on the shoulder. "Nay, lad, I was speakin' the common tongue." The bulky Dwarf considered for a moment. "Dinnae think I've heard of these Metaphors before. Ye'll have to teach me the speakin' of it."

Glancing over at Farod, he added, "I reckon a meal in our bellies and a place to sleep will nae go amiss, even if we strike out in the dark." Pausing to think for a moment, his great eyebrows furrowing, he added, "What of Torrent and the others? This place nae requires the potions, and has company and mayhap safety. Should we bring them here?"

He turned to Tiljann. <"Madam, would you be able to tell us where we could find both a place to rest and food? I can prepare it, of course, but more rations would not go amiss.">

"Right, then." Ridley shrugged.

Tiljann gestured up at the caves. <"We have both shelter and food, at least. Our numbers are smaller than they once were, but providing for a few guests is no burden.">

You can go ahead and rest, if you'd like - or poke around during the evening and into night.

Umbriak nodded his thanks and headed in to eat and at least locate where they would rest.

Once that was done, Umbriak shrugged. "Shall we continue?"

Farod had little appetite, but was curious enough to try the local cuisine, engaging in conversation with Tiljann, doing small talk and asking her about the dishes.
When Umbriak sated his hunger, Farod was ready to go on:"Aye. Let us see if the Nymph can shed some light on all of this."

"Right, then. No rush to leave this forest, though, if they'll keep feeding us..."

Assuming, of course, your supply of potions held out. When that stopped, things were going to get... warm.

That said, the pool was about four miles away from the village, and it seemed like things were definitely dark outside the forest by the time you arrived.

Gwenvere’s pool is quite probably the most beautiful place in the fire forest. The water here is 3 feet deep, filled with scattered patches of burning reeds. Crimson flowers crackle atop an island in the center of the pool, their embers drifting lazily in a slow breeze. Tree branches sway above the water, their heat almost hypnotic. However, the water itself is flat gray, coated in ash, and scattered along the shore are bits of animal bones. On the south wall of the pool is a fairly obvious cave.

Keeping his axe sheathed, Umbriak nodded to the cave. "I imagine yon cave is where she keeps herself." He didn't like the look of the animal bones, either. Most creatures tidied up after their meals. He remembered the words of the Fey...had been a nymph.

Stepping forward, he called in Sylvan, "<Greetings the cave! We have come to speak of the Hero Anyariel, the beast Indomitability and the curse of the forest. We come to speak to Gwenvere, maiden of this pool, in peace in hope of aid.>" He didn't mention the Dryad because...well, it seemed like a really bad idea to point out the woman she'd lost to. Hopefully, she'd bring her up if she was suitably important.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Ridley waved helpfully, hoping that the others would indicate if he needed to cast tongues again.

"<You are impressively articulate.>", Farod whispers to Umbriak, adding an explanation a moment later:"<Not for a Dwarf, for someone who only recently learned the Sylvan tongue.>"

Aside from that, Farod stood next to and behind Umbriak, quite content to let the Dwarf take point. In fact, after taking a moment to admire the scenery, Farod closed his eyes and listened.
Gwenvere may or may not have been a proper nymph, but he did not intend to be charmed, blinded, or worse, if she had hostile or mischievious intentions.

Oh, we are not potion-dependent. Both Ridley and me picked up Stand-the-Heat on Level-up. We can cover everybody with a couple spells to spare.

The water rippled - and a rather hideous woman with hair like seaweed and algae-colored skin rose out of it. Well, she definitely wasn't a nymph anymore... you didn't even need formal training to be able to tell that much.

<"Anyariel was my love, yes - was! And now I have naught but my memories, and my pool that keeps the forest living!"> she said as she slowly approached. <"Woe that things have turned out this way, mortals. But what... what words have you come to hear from this ugly, pitiful, wretched one?">

"Oh, you'd be surprised the trouble me tongue has got me out of," the Dwarf murmured to Farod. "Mind, it gets me in trouble a wee bit too." He then watched at the former Nymph bubbled up from the pool.

<"The forest takes much, milady, and from many. Your pool helps what remains."> Umbriak bowed formally. <"I am Umbriak of Embersworn, Dwarf and servant of the God Angradd. Our hope is to aid this forest. To do this, we face a task nigh impossible, to complete the task that Anyariel began so many years ago. She was a warrior of renown - I was especially impressed of the tales the Blackkguard she defeated - and to have even a hope of success, we need the aid of those that knew of her, of her quest, and what happened. We seek information, lady of the waters, and ask that you grant us such.">

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13

Ridley nodded alone, hoping Umbriak wasn't saying anything too embarrassing in Sylvan (with any luck, perhaps, he hadn't learned all the necessary words yet).

"Aye. The ladies appreciate a man who knows how to use his tongue. Their husbands, less so.", Farod smiles, content with the double entrendee, then waits silently next to the dwarf.

When no hostilities break out, he re-opens his eyes, looking at the creature before them, then responds:<"You are not pitiful, ugly or wretched. As you say, your pool keeps the forest living. You are bound to it, and life is beautiful, which makes you beautiful, no matter your current looks. If we succeed in our task, the forest will recover, the pool will recover, and you will, by your nature as Fey, return to reflecting that inner beauty on the outside, as well. We may have selfish reasons to help, being trapped here, but we DO want to help, nevertheless, all those unhappy with how things turned out since Indomitability came.">

Take 10 to assist on Diplomacy

<"Pretty words from one so young, and to one as hideous as me..."> she murmured. <"So many feel that good is beautiful, and the other way around, forgetting how many times beauty has tempted the righteous to oblivion."> she scowled.

+10 Circumstance bonus to your Diplomacy check. Yes, that's in the book if you say the right things. XD

<"Still, pathetic though I may be, I am not unkind to polite visitors. The only one who can help you finish what my love started is Timbre... but as much as I hate her and what her words led to, Anyariel would never let me rest in peace if I allowed the forest she tried to protect to be destroyed out of spite. The dryad has closed herself off, but there is one thing that might get her to open up. Remain here."> the hag twisted around and dived into the water, emerging a few moments later by the southern cave. She emerged a few moments after entering, once again passing through the water. In her hand was a two-foot length of blonde hair, held together by a copper clip. <"This is my last memento of my love. Present this, and I am sure Timbre will speak to you.">

Umbriak's eyebrow twitched at the young part - it was true, by dwarf standards, but he was used to dealing with the short-lived humans and their idea that being his age meant being a grandfather - but nodded. Kneeling, the Dwarf accepted the hair with another nod of gratitude.

<"You have our thanks, milady. I must ask - do you have any task you wish carried out? I understand this is a great gift, freely given, and so offer one in return."> The Dwarf did not like being in debt to anyone or anything.

Ridley stared just a bit too hard at the lock of hair, wondering just what the others had asked for.

<"We much appreciate your kindness and help. Let us hope, for all our sake, that we prove worthy of it!">, Farod replies.
While he was willing to continue a discussion on the nature of beauty, prettyness, good, superficiality and the nature of people, there seemed to be no need for that...they had an understanding, and no further words needed.