Skye's Starknife damages the hand still further! Ezren hits Red with a magic missile, but the force only shoots off one arm.
The skeletons, not being very brainy, rearrange themselves to protect the Rift. The Red skeleton heals automatically using the waves of negative energy that pour through the Rift on the Skeleton's turn.
★ ---- ★ ---- ★ ---- ★
Round 3 / 4
Active conditions: None
Fung
575
Zavubak (-8, Grappled)
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Giant Crawling Hand (-21)
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Skye
Ezren (flying)
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Skeletons
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Corona
575 carves the evil hand in two, sawing through the bone and connective tissue in one fell swoop! Fung sets more trees on fire, reducing cover penalties for next time!
★ ---- ★ ---- ★ ---- ★
Round 5 / 6
Active conditions: None
Fung
575
Zavubak (-8)
Skye
Ezren (flying)
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Skeletons
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Corona
Ezren positions himself up just outside the circle, elevating himself higher He then casts a spell, sending two bolts flying at the far skeleton.
Two more skeletons go down! Does someone want to bot Fung's leap forward?
★ ---- ★ ---- ★ ---- ★
Round 5 / 6
Active conditions: None
Fung
575
Zavubak (-8)
Skye
Ezren (flying)
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Skeletons
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Corona
The skeletons wait in the circle, guarding the Portal! They wait for you to approach.
★ ---- ★ ---- ★ ---- ★
Round 6 / 7
Active conditions: None
Fung (2 turns + whatever movement he's owed from previous round)
575
Zavubak (-8)
Skye
Ezren (flying)
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Skeletons
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Corona
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Seeing the giant undead hand destroyed and the rest of his allies closing in, Fung decides to close in as well to provide closer support. The winds that constantly gust around him strengthen at a thought and buoys him as he makes a mighty leap across the river, floating light as a feather, first landing on the small rock jutting out of the river surface, and then leapfrogging again to the big rock on the southern peninsula.
Catching a quick breath, Fung once again summons his winds to support his leap across the meander of the river, landing softly behind one of the standing rocks. Peeking his head out, he sees the nearest skeleton is too far away, so he simply lays his hand on the jade wayfinder hanging about his neck and calls forth its divine power to grant himself some guidance.
Fung sees Zavubak charging at the skeleton closest to him, but missing, so he focuses his attention on that one also. Taking one step away from the standing stone, he releases a bolt of lightning at it, but to avoid hitting Zavubak, he tried aiming to one side and thus the bolt misses.
Seeing the warriors having difficulty hitting the closer skeleton, Ezren decides to lend a hand...
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As Corona sees Zav charge into the stone circle, she remembers what Ezren had warned them about earlier and puts on another burst of speed in spite of the painful stitch she feels in her side.
"Oh, this could get hairy...watch out for the tentacles, Zav!" she cries.
______
Zavubak misses the skeleton, and then gets grappled by the Black tendril!
Meanwhile, 575 bashes the blue skeleton, destroying it even though his weapon was not blunt!
The Ezren blows away the last skeleton!
You need to be inside the circle to Shut Down the Portal, but enough positive energy can suppress the effects of the black tendrils for a round. Or you can just put up with the Negative Energy and Black Tendrils for a Round while you do the Ritual, hoping to seal it!
Skills you may use to shut the Portal: Knowledge (arcana, planes or religion), Linguistics, Perform (oratory), Spellcraft, or Use Magic Device. Each PC gets only one check. You may take ten on these checks if you wish.
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Skye examines the black tendrils surrounding the portal. "Is there a spot near the portal free of the tendrils? I could leap through space to stand next to the portal. I could also send anyone else that I've haven't sent through a wormhole today."
"The negative energy might be mitigated or suppressed by positive energy. I cannot channel energy, but I wonder if a wand of cure light wounds or casting such a spell might help. I could do either."
He considers the portal and how it might be closed. "My knowledge of the arcane, the planes, and religion could help us close the portal, as could my skill in spell craft, and to a lesser extent, my knowledge of linguistics."
Skye casts guidance on himself and draws a wand of cure light wounds. Then, he prepares to make a leap to the safest spot near the portal.
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"Oh, I can help too! I've got my wand and I can cast healing magic," Corona says as she comes huffing up to the edge of the stone circle. "Um...but first, let me see if I can help Zav get loose!"
She points at the grappled half-orc and calls out, "Greased lightning!"
Then, she readies herself to step into the circle and attempt to flood it with positive energy.
______
There is no spot that the tendrils don't cover. However, as Corona's spell hits, the tendrils visibly twitch back as if in pain and seem to shrink back to right near the portal.
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575 stares at the dark rift, leaking negative shadowy energy, with grim determination. He nods at Corona's words, waiting for her to flood the clearing with her holy light, as he starts to speak in his now familiar rhythmic cadence.
As soon as she does, he quickly moves forward, doing what he can to avoid any shadowy tendrils that might remain. He stands directly in front of the portal, his voice intoning words of defiance loud and clear, as if he were speaking into the portal itself, directing them at whatever waits on the far side.
Tar-Baphon's chattel
Running scared at his defeat
One of those fled here
Nine centuries ago
At these very sacred stones
Ivvora prevailed
Vildeis her guide
Only a dagger in hand
Eshimka laid low
Now once more it stirs
Dark shadows grasping through rifts
Trying to return
Today it's our turn
To follow Ivvora's path
And lay evil down
Ezren flies over to just inside the circle and applies his knowledge of the arcane to help seal the rift.
Corona fills the circle with swirling positive energy, and Ezren applies his knowledge of the Arcane, anchoring the ritual in place. But it is 575's fantastic poetry that drives back the darkness, causing the dark tendrils to wither and the portal to close.
Before it seals completely, a pair of disembodied eyes look out at 575. Then a creepy, disembodied voice says, "I'll be back for you, poet!"
Anok cries, "Medda! The Pathfinders have somehow gotten the portal to hold! Bring Ivvora's blade and seal it!"
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Zavubak shakes the tentacle off himself as everyone else rushes for the portal. When he notices he's too late, he walks over to take a seat next to it, clawing at the ground where the portal once was. "Um, maybe there's another portal underground? I'll um, help dig it up..."
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575 watches the place where the portal was, only moments before, the image of eyes burned into his memory.
He glances back at the others, and gives his toothy grin... though perhaps not as genuine as usual.
From the door, two knocks
Those inside ask who is there
The response: Evil!
They ask, Evil who?
And it tries to kill them all.
That joke is not fun
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Corona howls with laughter at 575's joke, not caring whether or not anyone else finds it funny. "That's the best punchline ever...hehe..." she giggles, wiping tears from her eyes. "A funny joke that's actually not funny at all...I'll have to remember that one..."
As they wait for Medda to finish sealing the portal for good, Corona flops down on the grass. "We did it! Or well, you guys did it! I don't think I really did much there. Learning how to fly is definitely on my to-do list now."
Perched on top of Skye's handy haversack, Sova the snowy owl stares at 575. She rolls her head, ruffles her feathers, and blinks. Once. "Hoot."
Then she launches herself into flight. Circling above the carnage, she scans the ground for a juicy mouse. Or a rabbit. "Hoot." Her stomach growls. Or a small deer...
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Skye looses a deep belly laugh at 575's brevity-levity. "'Evil who? And it tries to kill them all.' You killed it, dude."
Skye retrieves his pipe and waterskin from his ruck and pulls his pouch of Shoanti Special Blend #7 from his robe. He takes a seat, leans back against one of the granite monoliths, and stretches out his legs in sweet release.
He takes a long gurgling pull, then offers the pipe to his friends.
"Not much gold this trip, but that's cool. 'Herb will get you through times with no money, better than money will get you through times with no herb.'"
Ezren lands on the ground and hobbles over to a rock, sitting down on it. "Getting too old for all this running around..." He does chuckle briefly at the joke. "That joke is funny because it has the ring of truth to it. Good job everyone." He then takes the proffered pipe, "Don't mind if I do!"
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New friend Corona
Just how does one learn to fly?
Do chickens teach it?
He grins again, this time at Stuffing, then goes and sits down as well. He is soon distracted trying to ring out some of the water still dripping from his clothes after his swim in the stream.
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As Medda and Anok join your group of Pathfinders around the stone circle, she assists you with the binding ritual. Medda thrusts Ivvora’s hilt into the portal, calling on Vildeis for aid. The shadow rift shrinks and closes, releasing a massive shock wave that knocks the Pathfinders, the Twinhorn warriors, and Medda to the ground. A field of dark, rippling energy remains, suspended above the stone altar. As Medda reaches out to pick up Ivvora’s hilt—the already broken blade now spider-webbed with new cracks—a supernatural silence descends. Only the telepathic rage of some unseen menace cuts through the quiet. “You dare to shut me out?” it rages. “I see you, but I do not see her. Where is the dwarf woman, Ivvora, who fought me so long ago? Has her mortal body failed at last? Has the realm of the living at last lost its protector? Know this: when the long shadows reach out again, I will grasp them and claw my way back into your world to see your flesh devoured by my children.”
Sound returns to the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, and Medda cautiously stands. “It seems that Eshimka still lives and has even left this foul scar on our world,” she declares. “If we are to believe its promises, the fiend will attack on the next winter solstice. If we are to survive, we must be ready. Nearly a millennium ago, Ivvora held the key to defeating Eshimka. By following her legends and discovering her fate, we may harness the same holy power that banished this fiend—and together end the beast entirely.
“When we set out, it would be the privilege of this following to have the Pathfinders at our side. But that is a trial for another day. Tonight, at last, we rest.”
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575 picks himself off the ground with a worried look on his face as he glances at the field of energy still rippling over the altar. His mind can't help but recall other promises whispered in his ear.
Portal yet remains
Dark promises to return
Our fight not over
Victory for now
Though it feels somewhat hollow
Until we return!
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It is a tradition in my games to invite my players to do a DVD-style Closing Credits Easter Egg for your character.
ON EASTER EGGS
King of Anything wrote a lovely treatise on PbP Easter Eggs that I've totally stolen for this.
<Philosophical Exploration of the Easter Egg>
The closing credits are a great place to sum up your adventure and how your character has grown throughout. You've been playing for awhile now, so take some time to look back through the adventure and think about what moments stood out as meaningful, or could be explored a little more.
Your Easter Egg can be presented as a vignette centering around your character, or as a report or letter to your superiors/family, or as a quick scene between NPCs reacting in your character's absence. There are many possibilities!
Some good questions to ask yourself and/or answer in an Easter Egg:
1. How did my character introduce themselves? Are they the same character now?
2. What relationships did my character form in this adventure? How will they end? (Or will they continue??)
3. What did my character learn about themselves or the world?
4. What does my character do between adventures?
Some more questions to consider:
5. Will 575's arousing oratory woo Medda?
6. Who will makes sparks fly for Fung?
7. When will be the next episode of the Zavubak and Skye Bromance? Will Ezren join them? How many herbs will have to die to ensure their mellow friendship?
8. What happened with Nigel at the Musuem?
9. Will the feathered familiars have a sing off?
10. What will Corona cook up next?
So many possibilities!
Hmm
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As the sun sets in Absalom, a young woman with pale green eyes and dirty-blonde hair sits stretched out on the lawn at the Grand Lodge. Next to her sits a chicken and the pair appear to be watching the sunset.
"It's strange...I've gone on all sorts of missions with New Friends who have pets and Special Friends that help them," she comments, though whether she's actually addressing the chicken or thinking out loud is unclear. "Even met one New Friend that has her ghost twin living inside her head! But I've never had a Special Friend myself. I guess I just never really thought about getting one."
The woman glances down at the chicken and smiles. "Looks like I've got one now, though. And she's not so bad...even if I did have to find a new place to buy eggs."
"Bawk?"
"Yes, yes...I'll keep on making you cornbread! And everyone else too, from the looks of it. I think that's starting to be what I'm known for!"
She turns her gaze back to the sunset and for a time they sit in silence. Suddenly, her eyes widen as an idea comes to her and she begins digging through her pack. "Oh! Special Friend Stuffing? If you want to do something for me, well...could you sit on this when we're not on the road?"
As she speaks, she pulls a small, carefully bundled object out of her pack. She unfolds the bundle and holds out a small, leathery-looking egg. "I got it after a mission. My first mission. It was a gift and a really important one, too. Help me take care of it until it hatches?"
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The chicken looks at the egg and then at the woman.
"Bawk..."
This is payback for the rope thing, isn't it?
After a moment, she nudges the woman's hands until the egg is carefully placed on the ground. Then she takes up a familiar position - the Mama Hen.
"Bawk!"
I guess I can do that. I'd almost serve myself on a platter for a piece of that cornbread!
The young woman simply smiles happily as the pair return to watching the sunset...
______
Fin.
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Zavubak spent the trip back to Absalom in silence. This journey had changed him, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. So long had his strong and serious disposition been prevalent that to begin using words like Man and Dude was something he didn't completely understand of himself. Yet, despite his anxiety, he didn't feel as if enjoying strange, foreign, psychoactive substances took away from his strength or power. Rather, he felt it gave him the focus he always chased.
It is why upon returning to Absalom, he immediately visited Skye's herb garden. "Do these all have the same effects, Skye? I've been wanting to learn more about my past. Surely something here must provide insight into buried memories." He passes his hand through the the leaves and stems, smelling them curiously, then steps outside with Skye to watch the sunset, nachos and dip in hand. "Man, that's beautiful. I've been called back to Blakros Museum. Some drama in the family. But for now, I'd rather enjoy this moment..." Taking another puff from the pipe, Zav stretches out on the grass extravagantly. "With you."
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Ezren takes his time enjoying the scenery around him, noting the interplay of his newest teammates.
They seem like a good group of Pathfinders. Certainly they were each outcasts in their own way...at least they all have a purpose...and a home.
His gaze lingers over the strange young woman who even now feeds her chicken some cornbread. Wonder if I should talk with her...Naah. Best to let her be. Would that I were 30 years younger...
He turns away from the setting sun abruptly as the realization time was running out on him. Soon I will no longer be able to enjoy these sunsets...the clearing at the end of the path grows closer for me. Still there is much to discover...best get to work.
He then quickly skips up the stairs to his lodgings to see what else he will discover.
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Still having the same dream... eyes in the darkness, a sibilant whisper in his head... keeping him from resting for more then a few hours. Morae had decided to put the time to more useful pursuits that staring at the ceiling.
Not for the first time, he studied the book he had managed to find at a shop in the Merchant Quarter, its strange words and strange language unknown to him, but perhaps not forever. He had learned a language on his own before, he could do it again, even without Tiro to help. It just might take him a little longer. He intended to be better prepared, come the next solstice... if they had to go back. Whatever was in that rift, it needed to stay there. Perhaps then, it would cease haunting his thoughts.
He kept at it, until the sun began to lighten the evening sky, and activity in the Grand Lodge began to pick up again. Only then did he stop studying, returning to his bed to try to get a few more hours of rest, his mind working on the strange new language and its unfamiliar grammar.
Beside him, lay the book, closed now, its title faded and worn.
The translated works of Lem the Bard: Limerick Genius for All Occasions
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A pretty if slightly pouty girl climbs the steps of the Blakros museum, spear in hand, followed by an hooting owl bear that flaps its wings as it hops up each step.
"Hooooot!" it complains.
"Yeah, I don't enjoy visiting Uncle Nigel either, Hoot," Bobbi says. Even though her vision was clouded, she did not need to see to know where she was going. How many times had she walked up these steps before to pull Nigel's ass out of the fire?
The girl who was not a Blakros kept marching, back straight. She had made much of herself, and was no longer the child who cried for a family that didn't want her because her father had brought no dowry. She was respected, and had even gotten herself her own title to fling in Honaria's face. Plus, she had Hoot, her tutor, Basil and the esteem of the Society with her.
Not caring that Nigel's office door is closed, she shoves it open. "Yes, it's me."
Nigel sputters. "Bobbi, you know you're not allowed..."
"Shut up, Nigel." She tosses Belkzen tokens of passage, bits of shadow drake hide and a skeleton's jawbone on the table. "This is a small portion of the crap that I had to deal with because your agents fouled up. Blakros daughters always bring back mementos of their travel to the museum, right? So here's mine. I want you to see this, and remember. THIS is what happens when you take ethical shortcuts, and let your greed override all the morality and common sense that you had as a pathfinder."
"I'm tired of your crap, Nigel. I'm tired of cleaning up Blakros messes and hoping for acceptance or a smidgin of acknowledgement. Tell that scheming harpy Honoraria that I am DONE."
Message delivered, she stomps out of the office.
"Hooooooot?!" Hoot queries.
She laughs. "No, I don't know if I'm serious about that, Hoot. Maybe I will help them again. But it's high time they worked on pleasing me instead of the other way around."
Whistling, she heads off to the Grand Lodge and her next great adventure.
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Skye finishes watering his herb garden and sets the can down inside the wheelbarrow. He takes a seat among the sunflowers and props himself up against the outer wall of the Overflow Archives. He listens for a moment to the muffled shrieking of Master of Scrolls Kreighton Shaine, inside the building somewhere, venting his frustration on some poor initiate.
Skye shrugs, pulls out his stash. He rolls a smoke, flicks his fingers, and a small flame appears at the tip of his thumb. He inhales deep, the ember popping on a bud. He holds it, pondering his recent experiences.
He exhales slow and nods. "Good times, good travels, good friends. I miss the vastness of the Great North. Plenty of space to expand your mind, man."
He turns to regard the half-orc waxing sentimental on the grass nearby.
"Zav, you've got to get your ass down to the Petals District. You need some, uh, help, bro'."
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Throughout the celebrations that followed the closing of the portal, Fung is often distracted, as if looking out for someone, then shaking his head looking downcast, reminding himself that she had not accompanied the expedition up north.
In the journey back south to Absalom, a journey that felt longer than it actually was, Fung felt the urge to leap up into the sky and take flight more strongly than before, if just so to cut short the travel time, to meet that special someone who had touched his heart very momentarily, then slipped away in the museum chaos. He didn't let the time go to waste though. Herbs and plants are familiar to him, and he kept his eyes out for the small buds of yellowish-white flowers, collecting them as he went along. Then, in the dark of the night, out of sight of curious onlookers, he painstaking braided them into a decorative hairpiece that he had once seen a Vudrani woman worn before.
And finally, Abasalom!
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It was not difficult to find Jasmine Wu on the grounds of the Grand Lodge. It was much more difficult for Fung to summon up the courage to approach her. Finally, more through providence than plan, Fung, who had been pacing up and down the corridor leading to her rooms for the umpteenth time, still agonising over the final approach, when he rounds the corner, and there she is!
Stunned, his mouth hangs low for likely a full minute before he holds up the bouquet. "Here... uh... I made this. My master... taught me much about herbs and plants. These are jasmine flowers, but I guess you would know that. Your name being Jasmine and all." At some point during this monologue, Fung realises that he is blabbering but he just can't seem to stop. "Jasmine flowers have many medicinal properties, actually. Some patients who get yellowing of the skin and eyes, likely problems with their liver, respond well to extracts of jasmine. For those having difficulty sleeping, it is also a good sedative for relaxation. It is also a good herb to address digestive issues, like abdominal pain or even diarrhea. Some evidence points to it as a good aphrodisiac as well." Fung suddenly realises what he had just blurted out, and he turns a bright red. "Uh, no. Not that I would know... That's just what the books say..." Finally at a loss of words, Fung thrusts the bouquet unceremoniously into Jasmine's arms and quickly turn to walk away...
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Jasmine looks, startled, at the bouquet that had been shoved in her hands by the shy young man who approached.
Kind of cute! What a lovely surprise.
Memorizing his look so that she can show it to others later, she happily entwines the flowers in her hair. Surely Janira or someone would know who he is.
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