"What's it do?" Tanith asks, having learned his lesson about not judging powerful magical gadgets based on their appearance. "Does it turn into a boat? Or a castle? Or a castle on a boat?"
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"No, even better: it talks. I mean, real talks, not 'copy random words spoken around it' like my dragon head talks. Here..." he holds the string aloft, with a portentous look on his face. "Say... something!" He pauses. "No, I mean say something everyone can hear, not just inside my head. Here, let's do the knock-knock joke I showed you in the attic room. Knock knock!" He pauses again. "What do you mean, the knock knock joke is the reason you're not talking out loud? You're making me look bad in front of my friends!" Another pause. "No, I am not!"
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Carina arches a skeptical eyebrow. "Riiight."
Having become accustomed to Eben's equipment speaking at random times, Tanith is disappointed by the bard's choice. "So it doesn't talk."
"Could you use it with a fishing pole maybe? Robin would probably appreciate that. Can you imagine an unbreakable fishing line?"
Spoiler:"I am strong!" Cuetz says, shaking the god back with all his might. "And I think I've gotten stronger since coming to Ysgard....but I wasn't strong enough last time. Are you sure I'm the one they need? I do miss my friends, and Spiny..."
"An' I'm real impressed with my current player in the game—an' you can tell 'im that; a big ego's good for the soul, as I always say! Sometimes!" His expression turns serious as he puts Cuetzpalli in a headlock. "But sometimes I wonder who's really leadin' that party. I tell ya, I won't have some cocky little bard or sneaking Kettite get credit for saving the world. Not that I have anything against Kettites. Some of my best worshipers are Kettites. Plenty of Kettites are very tough nuts to crack. But this one is very, very un-nutty!" He throws Cuetzpalli across the room for emphasis.
Cuetzpalli soars through the air for mere moments before he feels strong hands catch him. It's Kord. "Whoops! Forgot how hard it can be to talk and fight at the same time! Anyways, I want you to make sure that party stays as badass as ever! So I'm gonna give you, uh..."
He looks around, then reaches back and draws an enormous greatsword from his back. He considers it a moment. The Brawler reaches up and, as if it were made of balsa wood, snaps off a thin splinter. He stares at it intently.
Suddenly, there is a normal-sized greatsword in his hand. The hilt is beautifully ornate. He holds it up to Cuetzpalli, but doesn't give it to him yet. "Alright, that's more like it! Rager upgrade, on the house!"
"I mean, real talks, not 'copy random words spoken around it' like my dragon head talks."
"...wow...okay...horrible behirhide suit..."
Cuetzpalli lets out a low whistle as he tentatively reaches for the blade. He looks Kord in the eyes for a moment, knowing what this gift will mean for him. After taking a deep breath he reaches out and grasps the hilt of the blade in the god's hands. As soon as he does, Cuetzpalli feels as if he were being electrocuted. His back arches, and multicolored, chaotic light starts streaming from his eyes. Glowing bands of characters written in a stylized runic version of celestial scrip emanate from the sword's guard, and rise up the blade, multiplying as they go. After a moment the blade of the sword is surrounded by half a dozen rotating rings of glowing celestial script. Cuetzpalli falls to his knees as he feels his body changing. His skin is suddenly smooth and blemish free, his long hair as silky and shiny as an angel's. He can feel the divine spark burning in his blood, driving him to rage at the coming evil of the Age of Worms.
he roars at the top of his lungs, causing the rafters of the great hall to vibrate with his fury. "What was I thinking!? How could I have abandoned my friends and the innocents who need me!? Send me back! SEND ME F&*$ING BACK!" he demands angrily, pointing the blade at the god who just gave it to him. The olman's eyes blaze with his celestial rage and he thinks nothing of the consequences of his actions.
"You got it, little man!" he yells with glee. He draws back his own sword, suddenly seeming bigger than Cuetzpalli's whole frame. "Sending you back, Kord-style!"
He lunges forward, skewering Cuetzpalli through the chest. The white fire returns, and this time it consumes Cuetzpalli fully, tearing his soul apart at the very essence as it relocates to...
...someplace very different.
Cuetzpalli finds himself lying in the grass in a peaceful little forested glade. Insects buzz and click, and the tweeting of a songbird reaches his ears from above. The sounds almost remind him of home—but no. These are evergreens, not the leafy giants of the Isle of Dread. And the forest is too small—he can make out buildings through the foliage.
He hears singing from further into the grove. It's in a language he doesn't recognize.
Cuetzpalli stops for a moment, looks to the sky and pounds his chest. Thank you, Brawler! he prays. His shock fading, he continues on into the trees...
Cuetzpalli clears his throat loudly. "Excuse me, Anlathi? Do you remember me?" He keeps his distance from the druid, and stands where she can see him, not wanting to startle her.
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"No, really! It talks, out loud!" Eben starts shaking the string up and down, trying to 'activate' it. His motions grown quite frantic, until...
He comes to a stop and looks up, glassy eyed. "Actually." He says, his voice rather hollow. "I think I'll just string this on my bow and stop talking for a while." He proceeds to do so. Once on the bow proper, the string does glisten rather attractively. As Eben's hands gently strum across it, the sound of its reverberations is actually quite musical. "And also I think I shall endeavor to learn a more refined form of entertainment than telling jokes involving people on opposite sides of doors..."
Anlathi gives a start. She looks up, and it seems to take a moment for her to register what she's seeing.
"Aah!" The druid leaps to her feet. "Ghost! Vampire! Dead!" She clutches at a small pouch at her belt and grabs a handful of pebbles from the ground. They glow with mystical green light. "Not in my shrine! O, cachu, why did I go with this spell? This is my worst, worst spell..."
Carina's skeptical look is replaced by a worried one when Eben's demeanour abruptly changes.
"Er... Eben, are you okay?"
"I think the string is controlling him!" Farrukh says, and whips out the sword of Aaqa.
He holds the sword up to the string.
"Let him loose or I'll slice you in half."
A wistful arpeggio runs down the length of the string; it sounds almost like a musical sigh. "Really, I was doing you all a favor. And I wasn't going to control him permanently, just til he had a chance to calm down a little. But very well." The reverberating voice, not quite masculine or feminine in timbre, emanates from the air around the string, almost dancing up and down the length of it along with a play or iridescence.
Eben looks confused, then down at the bow in his hands. "Huh, when did I string it? Yeah, anyway, it told me inside that it can play music while shooting arrows and that it can use that music to power some of the tricks I've picked up performing. But I swear, it really can talk..."
Another sigh chord comes from the bowstring. "Not 'it'. 'It' is what you call things that don't have brains. I am male. And I have a name. Forzamele."
Cymria rolls her eyes. "Calm down, Al'Khatel. It's just—sorry, he's just Forzamele. And you don't have a brain, Forzamele. You're a piece of string."
With the threat of a second dopple-eben passed, Tanith reflects on the fact that the party's down a member. "Has anyone seen Rodrigo? He'd get a kick out of this stuff."
Farrukh sheathes his sword.
"All right. But I have my eye on you, string."
"Hmm, no. We should grab him something just in case." Astraden picks up a not-at-all-phallic length of metal from a table and examines it. "Giant extending rod. I bet he'll like this."
Astraden takes the letter from the nervous-looking youth and nods that they can leave the keep. She quickly reads the letter's contents. "What . . . What the heck? Rodrigo just left!" She hands it off to one of the others.
"What?"
Carina takes the letter and looks it over. "...huh. Well, at least he's left us with some way of contacting him..."
Then she sighs in frustration. "...great. Now we're down a man. I don't suppose we can find some bored adventurer in town who'll fill in for him?"
Hurt by the summoners abrupt departure, Tanith frowns. "I thought he was part of the team. I got him a present and everything."
"I thought so too." Carina looks down and hands the letter off. "...but, well, with everything that's been going on, part of me can't really blame him for taking off."
"This whole thing can be one hell of a lot to take in..."
"I hope he's alright. But damn, now we're out a mage. I hope this doesn't mean we have to bring on Allustan."
Astraden shows off her cool robe to Manzorian. "It turns people insane!"
"Er... what's wrong with Allustan? Sure, he could be kinda surly at times, but I never got the impression he was that bad..." Carina scratches her head in confusion.
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"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend. I'm sure Allustan is good for something. But as an adventurer? No. He'd constantly be giving us long-winded lectures and telling us about all the magical properties of items. Plus, he's more than a little klutzy. What kind of idiot gets chased by a dragon and traps himself in a magic globe? And let's not forget propping up his corrupt whoreson of a brother, may he rest in peace. Nor his complacency with the state of Diamond Lake. Given the choice between Allustan and, say, a gnome who's been kicked out of half a dozen adventuring parties, you know who I'd pick? The gnome. That's how bad a fit Allustan is."
Astraden delivers this entire diatribe only a few paces away from Manzorian, still holding up the robe for him to see. She looks back at him and smiles.
"Well, the 'telling us magical properties' thing isn't bad. You guys kinda struggle with that."
"But yeah, Allustan is...not world-saving material."
"...oh."
Carina looks even more disheartened now.
"Hey, chin up. Rodrigo's still alive, which is more than we can say for some folk. We'll see him again."
Eben, still a bit confused about the whole missing minute of time he can't account for, at least takes pleasure in Forzamele proving him right by speaking. The string, for his part, keeps muttering in the background about how Cymria knows what he means, and he wouldn't want an actual brain, they're messy and people can poke things into it, no, he's quite happy with his fifth-dimensional etheric construct of thought patters, thank you...
Eben is, however, noticeably crestfallen that Rodrigo has flown the coop. And not just because there goes his easy transport to and from Greyhawk City. "I wish he'd talked it over with us first, I mean, yeah, I know he could be a bit of a coward, but it's the end of the world here, he'd have come around if he gave us a chance..." He scratches his head in thought. "Magic... well, I can do some of the same stuff he could, and I had some ideas about learning how to summon things too, so maybe we won't be too bad off..."
"Hey, chin up. Rodrigo's still alive, which is more than we can say for some folk. We'll see him again."
"I know, it's just..." Carina sighs. "...I just wish I remembered those things about Allustan at first. I really need to start paying more attention to other people..."
"Magic... well, I can do some of the same stuff he could, and I had some ideas about learning how to summon things too, so maybe we won't be too bad off..."
"And I'll do my best to fill in for him too." The alchemist nods resolutely, her eyes filled with determination.
Manzorian's lip curls as Astraden goes on her diatribe. He is silent for a moment.
"Ms. Limhaare, is it?" The archmage leans over in his desk, adjusting one of the dragonchess pieces. "Allustan, being, as you so succinctly surmised, rather weak-minded, might have tolerated this infantile behavior in his home." He looks up at the smiling half-orc, his expression cool and blank. "I don't have to. You may come back when you're ready to leave through the painting. In the meantime, take that robe, take whatever else you've already elected to steal while here, and ."
Farrukh leans over and whispers in her ear.
"I think he's a little defensive about his apprentice not living up to expectations."
Anlathi gives a start. She looks up, and it seems to take a moment for her to register what she's seeing.
"Aah!" The druid leaps to her feet. "Ghost! Vampire! Dead!" She clutches at a small pouch at her belt and grabs a handful of pebbles from the ground. They glow with mystical green light. "Not in my shrine! O, cachu, why did I go with this spell? This is my worst, worst spell..."
"Woah now! It's me Cuetzpalli, I'm alive again. Kord sent me back to help my friends," the bloodrager says. He holds his hands up, palms out in a non-threatening gesture. "You don't happen to know where they are do you? What about Spiny?"
Carina visibly flinches and takes a step away from Astraden.
Oh boy, you REALLY stepped in it now.
Anlathi pauses, about to throw the rock. She stares at Cuetzpalli intently. "Cuetzpalli? What...Huh. Wow. Okay. Shit. Gotta...gotta..." She tugs at her hair with a hand. "Your friends are in Magepoint. Spiny is...out in the wild. We've gotta get you to your friends. I can...I've got it!" She grabs onto Cuetzpalli's arm.
"Cuetzpalli," the druid says, "A little bird just told me your friends lost their summoner. We need to get you to Magepoint before they leave. I can—ugh, no, tree stride can only affect me. Why don't I have any good travel spells?"
She takes off running towards Ph'rexis's home, dragging Cuetzpalli behind her. "Come on! The wizard will know what to do!"
Astraden keeps smiling as Farrukh whispers in her ear. She slowly walks backwards, still smiling, until about 20 paces away from the wizard, at which point she pivots and walks briskly to the exit. Once outside she breaks out laughing. "Whew! Nothing like offending an archmage to get your heart racing. Though really, him getting so sensitive probably means he agrees with me."
Astraden plods back to mainland, taking in the deep blue of the lake. "So we need to get a replacement for Rodrigo. And I mean, a real replacement, not a wizard. How about someone from Magepoint? We could set up a little booth with a sign, have people fill out paperwork to apply. 'Champions of the Free City Games! Slayers of Dragons! Join Spiny's Six!'" she shouts in a bad imitation of a crier's voice.
Carina follows after Astraden, her demeanour not even remotely as chipper as the priestess'. "Astraden, why'd you make him that angry?" She asks, her mood a mix of irritated and fearful. "You do realize he can make your head explode with a thought, right? Then we'd be down two people."
“The wild? Magepoint, what’s that? What wizard?” Cuetzpalli asks as he’s dragged along behind Anlathi. I guess it makes sense that Spiny would leave after I died...poor guy. Bet he’s huge by now!
"Well, yeah, I didn't realize he was going to be so touchy about a f*!&up of a student. Thought Cymria was exaggerating, to be honest."
Cymria follows Astraden out, making sure she finds the exit okay. "Yeah, um, I told you that stuff so you wouldn't stumble on that and put him on edge. Not so you could deliberately try to piss him off. He doesn't like being toyed with. I should have mentioned that." She seems a bit irritated as well. "And as long as I'm being all reprimandish—Allustan's a bad judge of character. You're just an ass. And that's from one ass to another."
Cuetzpalli is taken to a strange naked man's house. Ph'rexis is in the process of adding an entire fifth floor to his bizarre mansion, and since this construction has blocked him from entering his study anyways, he's relatively willing to take Cuetzpalli off east. Especially after Anlathi pays him a lot of gold. She seems very guilty about something.
As Ph'rexis goes to fetch some 'traveling hat' he bought recently, Anlathi pauses to explain. "He went out," she says regretfully. "Spiny, I mean. Ran off. Maybe he's heading home. Or he's just roaming. Your friends can fill you in when you get to Magepoint."
"Never been to Magepoint," Ph'rexis remarks as he returns, now wearing a large conical wizard's hat. "I wonder what their dress code is? Always sort of wanted to see if they have any experts on the Far Realm there."
When Cuetzpalli is ready, Ph'rexis grabs his wrist in his sweaty hand and takes off into the Plane of Shadow.
The journey takes roughly three hours before they arrive at the edge of town. Ph'rexis waves and heads off into town, still entirely unclad aside from the hat.
Cymria follows Astraden out, making sure she finds the exit okay. "Yeah, um, I told you that stuff so you wouldn't stumble on that and put him on edge. Not so you could deliberately try to piss him off. He doesn't like being toyed with. I should have mentioned that." She seems a bit irritated as well. "And as long as I'm being all reprimandish—Allustan's a bad judge of character. You're just an ass. And that's from one ass to another."
Cuetzpalli is taken to a strange naked man's house. Ph'rexis is in the process of adding an entire fifth floor to his bizarre mansion, and since this construction has blocked him from entering his study anyways, he's relatively willing to take Cuetzpalli off east. Especially after Anlathi pays him a lot of gold. She seems very guilty about something.
As Ph'rexis goes to fetch some 'traveling hat' he bought recently, Anlathi pauses to explain. "He went out," she says regretfully. "Spiny, I mean. Ran off. Maybe he's heading home. Or he's just roaming. Your friends can fill you in when you get to Magepoint."
"Never been to Magepoint," Ph'rexis remarks as he returns, now wearing a large conical wizard's hat. "I wonder what their dress code is? Always sort of wanted to see if they have any experts on the Far Realm there."
When Cuetzpalli is ready, Ph'rexis grabs his wrist in his sweaty hand and takes off into the Plane of Shadow.
The journey takes roughly three hours before they arrive at the edge of town. Ph'rexis waves and heads off into town, still entirely unclad aside from the hat.
Cuetzpalli seems extremely suspicious of the druid, but is whisked off by the mad nudist before he can inquire further. Whatever, I shouldn't worry. Spiny can handle himself. It was always him who took care of me anyway.
He takes in Magepoint with a low whistle. Didn't think to see a place like this on Oerth. Reminds me a bit of the afterlife. He begins to approach anyone friendly looking, greeting them politely and giving descriptions of his friends, asking after their location.
To Cuetzpalli's still-somewhat-befuddled fortune, the group known as Spiny's Six is the talk of the town right now. Not so much for who they are—this town seems to be chock-full of oddities—as for who they've been with. Apparently, they're off at the mage Manzorian's home right now. They were the first people he wanted to see upon his return.
Cymria follows Astraden out, making sure she finds the exit okay. "Yeah, um, I told you that stuff so you wouldn't stumble on that and put him on edge. Not so you could deliberately try to piss him off. He doesn't like being toyed with. I should have mentioned that." She seems a bit irritated as well. "And as long as I'm being all reprimandish—Allustan's a bad judge of character. You're just an ass. And that's from one ass to another."