"Thanks Lyr, hey you're looking pretty good by the way. I like the no mask look."
Pausing for a moment before looking, Zoso takes a deep breath. "Alright, so I died and this was the only option? Thanks, seriously. Being alive has got to beat anything that could fit in a mirror. Well.."
"Awwww Really?!?! You gotta be kidding me! Is this all a bloody joke to you!?" he yells to the sky.
"The sky" laughed even harder. It sounded a bit like it was wheezing from running out of breath but not being able to stop.
Since your return to the Prime Material plane (and life, for Lyr and Zoso), you've noticed some subtle changes in Beshtori. You assume, initially, that your anxiety-burdened friend is suffering unduly from the stress of your last encounter and grief at the loss of zir elven friends. Your concern grows as ze becomes even more withdrawn than usual. Zir beautiful green hair loses its gleam and even appears to be falling out; zir sleeping and eating habits become increasingly erratic. Besh generally keeps zir hands and arms deep within zir robes, but when you do catch the occasional glimpse, you notice dark, splintery... cracks... (?) tracing up the insides of zir wrists. The darkness is mesmerizing, and you quickly find yourself realizing too late that you've been staring.
You also notice Beshtori becoming more and more frustrated with zir lack of control over magic - more often popping a small insect or mammal into existence than whatever effect ze intended. Ze now carries Nolveniss's spellbook everywhere, and consults it relentlessly, but zir stretches, dances, and flailing about don't seem to manifest magic as often as before.
Something seems broken inside the little gnome. The elves speculate that perhaps the tragedy of zir youth - an accident involving artifacts and portals, the death of zir parents and community, and the development of zir powers - left some scar that was reopened by your recent travel to or from the Shadow plane. Or perhaps whatever exists between planes reached out and touched zir again.
With the return of Lyr and Zoso, Besh's sullenness is lessened, but neither does ze return to the bright, bubbly (if nervous) creature you knew.
Lyr slowly looked up. "What is that sound? Is something laughing?"
A small, red serpentine face stuck it's head out of the leaves, it's mouth half open, it's eyes wide and sparkling. "Bahahahaha! The elf... dwarf! Bahahaha! That's... I can't... bahahaha!"
The little creature laughed so hard it fell out of the tree, but managed to catch itself in the air and hover on wings that were beating so fast they were just a multicolored blur.
"Whoops! Heh. Hehehe. Uh, hi." it said, looking slightly sheepishly at the group. Then it did a double-take and stared at Lyr. "Lyr? Is that you? How'd you get... uglier?"
Lyr's good eye narrowed. "...Vex?"
The little dragon spun in a short circle, checking itself over. "Last time I checked. Know enough gorgeous little dragons that you get them confused?"
"Uh, no." Lyr said, a bit at a loss. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here." Vex said looking around. "Druid's groves are the best! Everyone's so nice, and it's clean and green, and and Gnomes are hilarious. Like that time an Elf got reincarnated as a Dwarf! That was amazing. I laughed so hard I fell out of my favorite tree." the little dragon giggled.
"What are you doing here?"
"It's... complicated. Zoso died. We had to bring him back and this was the only way. We have to go to the Darklands." Lyr said, sounding like he couldn't quite believe the words he was saying.
"Zoso? That might be the least Dwarfy name I've ever heard." then the little dragon blinked and flew closer. "The Darklands? Why would you go back to the Darklands? After everything I went through to get you out?"
"We have to learn what the drow want. It's an infiltration mission. They told us we are the only ones who might be able to pull it off." Lyr shrugged, still sounding uncertain.
"That's a terrible idea." Vex said with a shake of her head. "You are definitely going to need my help."
"What?" Lyr said, confused. "You don't need to do that. It's going to be dangerous. You have already done enough for me."
"Clearly not, if you are dumb enough to go back." Vex looked over the group, flitting from person to person, taking stock of them. "They look reasonably formidable, but I'd bet half my horde that none of them have any real idea what they signed up for. You're going to need all the help you can get. Introduce me."
"...This is Brenna, Saphren, Beshtori, and, uh, Zoso." Lyr said, going along with things for the moment. "Everyone, this is Vex. She was the one who led me out of the Darklands."
Zoso is just as puzzled as Lyr, as he is in shock he can only stare at the treetops and wonder if god is really laughing at him. When the little thing falls out the elf dwarf tries to get his own questions in but is in too much of a fog to assert any real effort.
"Wait you're not a some overpowering entity... seem cynical enough to have been involved with this though.."
"Damn straight it's not a dwarfs name, would get caught dead with a dwarf anyth.... damn this..."
Finally with the introductions Zoso clears his odd throat, "So, you two know each other? Well, why not. Good to meet you Nex. What were you doing in the Darklands the first time?" The newly made dwarf then notices that he's just standing around naked and begins to look to see if everyone brought his things along as well.
"Vex. With a V. I'm sure dwarf tongues are just as stubby and hairy as the rest of them, so it's ok. Take your time." Vex said with a reptilian grin. "I was down there to go get him" she said, pointing at Lyr with her tail.
"Ketephas heard his prayers, sent a vision or something to Qovom, and Qovom sent me."
Besh throws zirself in front of Zoso and begins an incantation.
Roll initiati ...
Stumbling to a halt as Lyr begins a casual conversation, joined by Zoso, the little gnome frowns, and looks incredibly confused. Finally, ze eyes Vex balefully and spits out: "What's wrong with you guys? Did you forget that you were just killed by a dragon?"
Hanging her head to hide the tears, Besh mutters to zirself: "I won't forget. I won't ever forget."
Er, no one was killed by the dragon. We killed the dragon, after it refuse to play nice I'll add. Did not really wanna kill the dragon but it had anger issues. Turning to the Vex Saphren says with a bow Very pleased ta meetcha.
Vex fluttered down to face level with Beshtori and took a closer look at the gnome. "Well you're a jumpy little... person, aren't you?
That'll be fun. Oh, and an Orc with manners! That's a first. I like you already." In spite of how fast her wings were moving, they made no sound at all. "You killed a dragon? Around here? I thought it was just me and... Razerback? Or something like that. Grumpy green with delusions of grandeur."
"That's the one," says Brenna. "Bigger than you but less colorful or congenial."
Now Vex seemed impressed. "Wow. You killed that big jerk. Nice work."
"Well, they did," says Brenna with a jerk of her thumb toward her companions.
"We all did." Lyr said.
Vex fluttered down to face level with Beshtori and took a closer look at the gnome. "Well you're a jumpy little... person, aren't you?
That'll be fun. Oh, and an Orc with manners! That's a first. I like you already." I
Think I'm gonna like you too little guy.
"Aye, Razorhorn. An impulsive and poor negotiator. Well, perhaps it was our negotiating that lacked.." Zoso puts on his old shirt and the torso drops to the dirt. He then holds up his pants that are almost as tall as he is. "Un-freaking-believeable. Besh, you think you have anything that'd fit me? Maybe a loose sweater?"
"La la, do re mi. "
"I think you're right Vex, this mouth isn't fit to sing the tales of anyone. What else do you know about Dwarves? There has to be something good to come of this, other than being slow, smelly, short, off key, and not dead." There's a resolved bitterness in Zoso's voice, like he's getting his justified complaints out now while actually working towards finding peace with his twist of fate.
Brenna says to Zoso, "There's a lot of dwarves in Kalsgard. They were always good, solid, reliable people. They loved singing chants and some dirges. Lots of percussion - drums, and a few would play some string instruments. Their music evolved out of keeping time for mining."
Watching Zoso try to get dressed sent Vex into more peals of laughter.
...it's like the gift that keeps on giving." she giggled to herself.
"Uh, Dwarves. Lets see. They drink a lot, like gold almost as much as Dragons do, and will out-work pretty much any other people out there."
Shalelu, who has been watching quietly from the edge of the clearing (as is her wont), shakily comes over to Zoso. "I... I am so sorry. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. A dwarf. A cruel joke for my people."
She lets out a long sigh. "There are no dwarves in Meirani, but I know your people see well in the dark and are at home in the underground. As well as being hardy. You also have not been robbed of as many years as you could have been. Only the elves live longer than dwarves."
Moving over to Beshtori, she gives the little gnome a hug. "With the blessings of the Gods and the forest your friends live to fight on. There is more battle. I should take you back."
---
The journey back is a little awkward what with the naked dwarf save for a cloak and his completely un-calloused feet. Your return is a somber one, although your friend is back, his reincarnation into a dwarf has certainly not helped.
As you reach the command tent there are actual gasps of horror as those in the know realize what happened. Even dour Kaerishiel manages to show some basic empathy. He clasps Zoso's shoulders.
"คุณคือพี่ชายของฉัน."
"You are my brother."
Eviana looks sadly at Zoso. "You are in our debt. We will offer whatever I can if you so much as ask."
Thankfully, an encamped army has no shortage of people who can tailor and alter clothing and equipment. Zoso manages to return to his tent and you are given a day or so to recover while his equipment is altered and some dwarf-size clothes are made for Zoso.
"Aye, Razorhorn. An impulsive and poor negotiator. Well, perhaps it was our negotiating that lacked.." Zoso puts on his old shirt and the torso drops to the dirt. He then holds up his pants that are almost as tall as he is. "Un-freaking-believeable. Besh, you think you have anything that'd fit me? Maybe a loose sweater?"
"La la, do re mi. "
"I think you're right Vex, this mouth isn't fit to sing the tales of anyone. What else do you know about Dwarves? There has to be something good to come of this, other than being slow, smelly, short, off key, and not dead." There's a resolved bitterness in Zoso's voice, like he's getting his justified complaints out now while actually working towards finding peace with his twist of fate.
Saphren assess the new Zoso. Well, ya look tougher. That can't be bad. Them elf bones ya had before were match stick thin. Much more solid now. Bet you can better take a hit. And I hear dwarves see bettern elves in the dark...
Once back at base camp, Lyr stayed busy. He'd done a good enough job skinning Razorhorn's hide that there wasn't much left to do but give it one more scrape to clear the rest of the flesh and oil it down. He added a number of alchemical preservatives and strengtheners. By the time the day was done the hide was rendered into thick, tough green-scaled leather, ready for crafting.
The dragon's massive skull was treated Oil of Timelessness and other preservatives. Unless the magic was dispelled, it would always look practically alive.
He worked all day and long into the night, taking a short nap before waking early to continue.
Lyr has a ring of sustenance, so he only needs to sleep two hours. He's going to spend nearly all the time crafting.
My plan is to make a rough suit of armor, then use a scroll of Masterwork Transformation to make it super nice. Is that alright with you?
You take a few days to recover from your ordeal and for Zoso to get used to his new body. The looks and whispers of the elves are obvious, and it's clear he's a subject of mass pity. On the other hand, Lyr is simply avoided. The rest of you are pretty popular though. During your recuperation, the drow army falls apart. Without their leader and access to the Armageddon Echo the elven forces press in, and within the next few days, the drow are eradicated from Celwynvian. You are victorious, but there was that matter of journeying to the drow city...
The army is in mass celebration with the fall of the drow forces in Celwynvian. During this carousing, however, any of your celebrating is caught short as you are brought into the command tent. There sits Eviana, Kaerishiel, and a strange, grumpy-looking elf you have not seen before. Eviana looks strangely uncomfortable with this new arrival. Kaerishiel, never one to miss words, gets to the point.
"This is Giseil Voslil, he is a friend of the Shin'Rakorath and the best necromancer in this part of Varisia."
Giseil looks at all of you awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. However, as he begins speaking he becomes animated, waving his arms wildly. "Yes - a - yes. Well, look. We need to get you into Zirnakaynin, and get you to appear as drow. Now - now you will likely know that drow are some of the most powerful masters of the arcane. I'm sure your ... gnome... could manage an alter self spell or some such, but drow will see throuhg such a disguise in seconds. That - that is where my brilliance comes into play."
It is at this point, you noticed that the war room table is covered in a large blanket. With a flourish, Giseil pulls off the blanket to reveal five very dead drow elves.
"This... this is my creation. RECORPOREAL INCARNATION! We are not going to cover you up with flimsy illusions, or polymorph you with such obvious, easily-detectable tricks. Instead, we shall weave the drow onto you - like a sheath for a sword."
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Un what are ya gonna do ta my sword? Saphren looks both concerned and confused.
Besh tiptoes up to the table and peeks over the edge, eyes wide: "Ooohh! I want to know all about how that works! Are you going to fuse us with these dead drow? Is it some kind of Transmutation x Necromancy? Maybe a soupcon of Evocation? How did you come up with it? WHY did you come up with it? Haveyoutriedit?Whathappened? Hi, I'm Beshtori."[/b]
Brenna has partaken of the revels, drowning her sorrow and amplifying her joy. Despite her tremendous constitution, she manages to get a bit tipsy.
Healing magic has wiped away the worst of the burns, leaving her skin a bit ruddy but otherwise undamaged. Her hair she chops short but even so that it will grow back in cleanly.
"You know," she says to Saphren during the festivities, while waving her jug of mead with one hand, "We basically got to be heroes because we helped destroy the world. Well, a shadow of it. But anyway." She gives a tipsy smile. "Hey, I have a question for you-" she says, then stumbles, right as an elf messenger arrives to bring them to the command tent.
Once Giseil is introduced, she sobers slightly, and she manages to not say anything completely foolish during the initial meeting. After Saphren asks his question, she leans over and says in a loud whisper, "I think he means he's gonna make us all wear drow-skin condoms."
Lyr did not like where he thought all this was headed, but he kept his mouth shut. He had endured worse indignities for far less noble reasons.
"Hey, when are we going to tell Brenna about her new armor?" Vex asked from her perch on Lyr's shoulder. Then she wrapped her tail around her mouth and looked Brenna's way nervously when she realized she'd spoken too loud.
Brenna snorts at the little dragon. "Oh, don't be silly. I've only saved up half the money I'll need for adamantine plate armor."
Lyr gave Vex a baleful stare and Brenna a small shrug. "Later."
Giseil throws a hand in Beshtori's face. "No no no, well sort of. But pedantic details matter - your deranged gnomish brain may have difficulty handling this but let me explain in better detail, little girl."
He points at the drow bodies. "This is pure necromancy - but I do not animate the dead, no no no. The flesh of the drow will instead be placed -over- that of your own bodies. Think of a meat-mask. I think I hear something of a drow condom... that may be a way to think of it as well. You will not become a drow, you will become encased in drow."
He holds up a finger. "Now, this spell does throw in a sprinkle of some other magics for the sake of sizing. This monstrous human beast before me is far too large to pass as a drow. So there will be some... ah, resizing that takes place. She will still be a very large drow, but within the realms of possibility, yes. And as for this lovely lady gnome here, well we just pack some extra drow on her to build her up to size."
Giseil then looks critically over Zoso. "So you're the poor mangled once-elf. Well, we'll work with what we can here."
Saphren looks less and less happy. What have I agreed to?
Brenna leans over and whispers to Saphren.
She clears her throat and says, "All right, so all the drow will see just another drow, their spells will detect a drow because we really are drow, just dead ones who have an angry, drow-killing creamy filling. Is there anything we need to know to not break the spell? And how long are we gonna be in these meat-suits? Am I gonna be wearing rotting drow for a week, or what?"
Slapping the hand away in irritation, Besh pokes Giseil with a wand: "Deranged, am I? Monstrous?! MANGLED?! At least the rest of us know you can't just hang a dead body on top of a live one and expect it to work."
Too annoyed to continue arguing, Besh turns pleading eyes to Eviana: "How are we supposed to trust someone who doesn't seem to understand their own magic? How do we put our lives into the hands of someone who can't identify gender? Who can't... can't..."
Mumbling zir way to a halt, Besh flushes with embarrassment and tries to slip to the back of the group.
Gisel snaps at Besh. "Bah! The monstrous one is that brute of a human you have. I was not referring to you. And boy, girl - you gnomes all look the same. How should I know?"
"Once this spell has 'set' there is no magical effect at all. You will become a drow for the purpose of all detections. My magic -does- work and it has been well-tested. You will be indistinguishable from a regular drow."
He fishes around in a bag. "Furthermore, I have developed these magic items. They will grant you the abilities of a drow, and language proficiency in Undercommon - in the appropriate accent. Some may call me mad..."
Eviana looks directly at the ground.
"But my methods work! And you will not rot, or even notice the drow flesh draped over your body. The spell lasts for three months."
Lyr knew a thing or two about hanging a live body over a dead one, and vice versa. The idea didn't phase him. He said nothing. The others would have to come around to what was necessary in their own time.
Brenna screws up her face and thinks for a moment, then says, "Do I wear it over or under my armor?"