*Stuff about Athas's history that happened while he slept*"I know Rajaat," Ri'Kli'Klek responds, in the tone of voice one might use to discuss the presence of a particularly large and unpleasant rat in the room. "His servants also turned against him? So it is that madness always turns on itself in the end. But these servants still wake? Do they still drain the land of its life to feed their ambitions? From thy words this Abalach-Re hardly deserves a title of leadership."
"Yes, in fact it is Abalach-Re's magic that has in part led to the devastation of Raam's crops. If you know some means to depose her from the throne, than, friend, you have discovered a power that has eluded the people of my fair city for more than a millennia."
[dice=Per]1d20+22
Cae hears nothing out of the ordinary.
After listening in on some of the conversation above them, Jimbli looks to those still with him below.
"Hmm... Shall we rise to the chamber above? Who would like to ascend under my power?"
-- 'Ayin'jára --
The dray priestess unhurriedly collected her voluminous robes about her as she strode confidently into the small assembly. Her entire shape was set in a constant motion. The rippling sheets of violet fabric swelled like a velvet tide in a sort of reverent mimicry of 'Ayin'jára's rhythmically undulating body. To the small group of onlookers, the effect was disconcerting, like a cobra perpetually prepared to strike.
'Ayin'jára virtually hissed her first words her audience, noticeably absent any dilatory expressions of affection or greeting,
"Well, here I am -- what is it?"
Akash began his reply hesitantly,
"First, let me express the gratitude of our assembly that you have deigned..."
The dray viciously cut off his words,
"That's not an answer! Begin again, and be sure that this is your last opportunity to do so."
'Ayin'jára hissed at the frightened man -- the piercing emission of breath cut the air like a sharpened knife.
Akash swallowed audibly before continuing,
"Kashmyla returned sooner than we had expected from Kalidnay, and wants to deliver a message to you personally, great one, if you would follow me..."
The reptilian priestess followed Akash to a reclining bench upon which was laid the body of an injured woman. Her condition had no discernible affect on the dray, who immediately began to question Kashmyla pointedly,
"So, what happened? I thought we had come to an agreement with the fiendling? Or was it the Exile?"
The almost comatose woman struggled to reply,
"No mistress, it was not the so-called 'Master', nor was it Faalcuun, though we believe he lurks nearby. The creatures that activated the gate -- they are more powerful than we could have imagined. And there are other parties as well, more than was previously thought."
"Such as?"
"There is a compound that blocks the way to the Great Temple where a group of Balicans appears to have taken refuge, at least so far as we can tell by their dress and speech."
"Balicans, really? And for what reason?"
"They appear to have an alliance with the creatures who opened the gate. One of our scouting parties disturbed a meeting between the two factions and were defeated. The Balicans have among their number several powerful spell weavers who employ a strange form of magic which we have not heretofore encountered, but which somehow combines both the preserving and defiling arts."{/b]
[b]"Remarkable indeed. The Great One will be most interested to learn of this intelligence," 'Ayin'jára's tone then assumed a far colder note, "despite it following on the heels of failure."
The injured woman gasped,
"Come Akash, it is time for your fellow to serve the Great One in another capacity,"
Akash nodded to two attendants, who reflexively unsheathed long knives,
Kashmyla whimpered,
The dray spoke to her one last time before they began, almost cooing,
"Oh child, it is only through great suffering that we may know great peace."
** spoiler omitted **More texts about Ymeri. I think they mixed some fungii here.
What?
Amunet-Ra looks up and as Hamza vanishes in the shadow, she leaps up into the air, her robes rustling softly, only to vanish in midair to the normal eye, her motion carrying her upward through the pyramid chimney.
[dice=Jump]1d20+59
[dice=Stealth, going invisible]1d20+23+20
Amunet hears the strange lute-playing half-elf mutter the following words:
"Child, I'm not certain what you mean by living with me. Are your parents not here with you? This is a particularly dangerous place to be alone in."
"Oh, child, what magics have they wrought upon your poor body?"
"Well, child, I am not unused to the company of spirits, but I must ask before I agree--Are you okay with merely residing with me? I can come up with a way to let you express yourself once we've left this place, but I need full control of my faculties."
"Very well, child. Come with me, you may share my warmth."
"Child, if ever you recognize the ones who did this to you, be sure to tell me. I assure you, they shan't live to see another day. Similarly, if you recognize the faces of any of those who had their skins taken...Tell me."
"Indeed. Anyone with a conscience would never have performed such a rite, child--For those who are knowledgeable in the afterlife know that only suffering awaits in the grey."
After listening in on some of the conversation above them, Jimbli looks to those still with him below.
"Hmm... Shall we rise to the chamber above? Who would like to ascend under my power?"
"I have my own means of locomotion, but I'm quite content to stay down here while you fools go traipsing around in the darkness."
Do tell me what you find though. Especially if it's something interesting, or dangerous, or, particularly, if your discovery possesses both of those qualities."
"And probably try not to die in the process. It will be more difficult, though by no means impossible, to extract information from your corpse. And I prefer things to be easy."
Amunet-Ra invisibly lowers a rope down the chimney and secures it, so the others can climb up, after what she let's her invisibility fade, counting on Hamza to back her up if necessary, looking around and wondering where he might lurk.
Then she takes a step forward.
You there, half-breed! Who are you talking too? Did you fall down here on your head or have you been in the sun too long? You're trespassing on the sacred lands of the Serpent Singers! What is your purpose here and how did you even get here? And who are you? Do not try to use any magic or other abominable powers, you would regrett it instantly.
With a commanding gesture she folds her arms in front of her, her face and figure mainly concealed by her flowing robe, seemingly unarmed and unarmored.
"Alas, no discovery yet to the benighted queen's downfall. I had hoped to find artifacts here that might be of assistance." Devapala says, looking up to the vault, frowning before she nods to Jimbli "Aye, bring me up as well."
"Alas, no discovery yet to the benighted queen's downfall. I had hoped to find artifacts here that might be of assistance." Devapala says, looking up to the vault, frowning before she nods to Jimbli "Aye, bring me up as well."
"I suppose it's clear by now that you're going to need to do a lot better than that to convince these two Raamite natives that you're actually from their city."
"The little druid Taalik especially isn't a fool."
"In fact, I rather suspect that he already surmises something is odd about your amusing little elven disguise -- especially with these concealed dray running around in Kalidnay, his guard is already up, so to speak."
"By any chance, have you ever acutally been to Raam? Because I have, and I can tell you that it's a quite remarkable city that will be difficult to pretend a convincing knowledge of to natives. You might need to lean on my expertise to maintain your facade."
"I'd start with probing your knowledge of the elven tribes native to the city. Do you even know anything about the Tiger Eyes, the Golden Tusk, or the Diamond Blade Tribes? You might want to brush up on that first, just my suggestion."
"As for hope... she laughs, and in that laugh is no small degree of pain. "My tribe was destroyed. We were few to begin with, for the most part hiding among some more amenable parts of the Diamond Blades. I was the repository of knowledge, speaker of the ancients for them. So no, hope is not something I would call it. Stubbornness perhaps? she says, laughing.
"As for hope... she laughs, and in that laugh is no small degree of pain. "My tribe was destroyed. We were few to begin with, for the most part hiding among some more amenable parts of the Diamond Blades. I was the repository of knowledge, speaker of the ancients for them. So no, hope is not something I would call it. Stubbornness perhaps? she says, laughing.
** spoiler omitted **
The druid nods sagaciously,
"Ah, so your people are fellow travelers of the Diamond Blades? They are a remarkable tribe. It is said that the psi crystals of their dedicated 'Metacognizants', the Prabhāsvaracitta contain a reservoir of psychic power millions of years in age, and drawn from as many minds, and their their crysknife warriors, the Sphaṭapāradarśaśastradhāraṇajīvaka are beyond parallel in their cunning and skill. Their sages are close confidants of my order, whom we consult when studying matters dealing with the ancient history of the great city."
"As for hope... she laughs, and in that laugh is no small degree of pain. "My tribe was destroyed. We were few to begin with, for the most part hiding among some more amenable parts of the Diamond Blades. I was the repository of knowledge, speaker of the ancients for them. So no, hope is not something I would call it. Stubbornness perhaps? she says, laughing.
** spoiler omitted **
"Ah, a bold move on your part, I must say! If the Diamond Blades of whom you claimed friendship ever learn of your deceit, well... let's just say I've observed them exacting their vengeance, and it isn't pretty."
"I rather hope you will have the opportunity to meet one of their 'crystalline arms bearers', the Sphaṭapāradarśaśastradhāraṇajīvaka of which the druid spoke. They are shrouded in armor made of a ghastly mythal and bear crystal blades that can dispel magic."
Jimbli points at Devapala Ra'at.. a faint smell of electrically charged air rises as he traces a line with his finger up toward the portal.
"I can fly under my own power when I wish," Ri'Kli'Klek states, "Even were it not for that rope."
However, he makes no move towards said rope, instead continuing his questions.
"How long has it been since these... Cleansing Wars?" he asks the halfling. "I am not certain they had started before I slept, though I suspected..."
He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Amunet-Ra invisibly lowers a rope down the chimney and secures it, so the others can climb up, after what she let's her invisibility fade, counting on Hamza to back her up if necessary, looking around and wondering where he might lurk.
Then she takes a step forward.You there, half-breed! Who are you talking too? Did you fall down here on your head or have you been in the sun too long? You're trespassing on the sacred lands of the Serpent Singers! What is your purpose here and how did you even get here? And who are you? Do not try to use any magic or other abominable powers, you would regrett it instantly.
With a commanding gesture she folds her arms in front of her, her face and figure mainly concealed by her flowing robe, seemingly unarmed and unarmored.
Tyren gave the stranger a frank, appraising look. He gave her a quick once-over, looked around at the temple, and then nodded to himself, as though he were trying to assess how, exactly, Amunet-Ra fit into the grander picture of these lands. "Well," Tyren started, "I was conversing with what appears to be one of the victims of one of the various rituals that has taken place in this general area. Given that you must have listened to my conversations for some time, you must have realized that attempting to come off as a Temple Guardian would likely have backfired, and yet here you are, doing just that. Fortunately for you and my conscience, if you were a temple guardian, you'd likely know how I got here, since it certainly wasn't under my own power, so I can't help but imagine that you're as much of an intruder as you accuse me of being. So how about we start this again, but with a little more courtesy, this time?
Having listened to everything going on, Ehawee was starting to figure out that her tribes small petty vendetta may just have to lay by the wayside. She didn't just find a group of people with power, they were talking about power that could fix the issues that all suffered, or at least that is what it sounded like to her. Upon the offer to follow Amunet-Ra, she speaks up somewhat, having really watched and listened to the other fellows of their now large party.
" I believe we all seem to hunt a common goal to bring the waters back to levels that will provide for our people, and perhaps we can find a way to do so for all. This however means we must continue forward together, otherwise you may be lost to the sands of the times. I for one will continue forward with Amunet-Ra."
The initial back and forth between Amunet and whoever this half breed was, turned semi hostile almost immediately. Stepping around the two to set up a possible flank, he taps his elven companions shoulder, letting her know he's there.
Still unseen, he says from behind Tyren, "Now, now, no need for hostilities, yes?"
Yes, no need for hostilities, yet. So you admit using magic? Did you practice this ritual? On this one here? What did you do to him?
She looks at the stranger and points at the elf on the floor.
Did your defile him?
You see, I carry no weapons, I would love for this staying peacefully. The one you just heard though is a thirsty being from the shadows. It might be better off you tell us who you are and the whole story. You never know what he's up to. Let's say I believe your so far.
Rokan ignores the banter for now, observing the phenomena he initially beheld in this chamber. He privately sends a missive to the half-elf.
What are those four lights surrounding you? An energy source, protections?
Tyren put a hand to his forehead and sighed. "To the first question, in an academic sense, yes, I understand the theories of magic. A cursory glance, however, should tell you that I haven't used any sort of ritual for making a ghost, as the fellow there is still quite alive. Which should also answer your question as to whether I've defiled him." He pointed upward, toward the fungus. "The other answer to that question, of course, being the fungus surrounding you. As you may have noted, this fungus glows--It'd be very obvious if I were to be defiling the area, as everything around us would have deadened."
After having provided his brief explanation on the manner of concluding whether someone was a defiler or not, his eyes raised at the message sent his way. A mental inquiry of an academic sense? To that, Tyren was more than happy to reply. He responded with a missive of his own, choosing the floating fellow behind the overly accusatory stranger as the target.
A remnant of the Feywild. A parlor trick for light.
Tyren turned his attention back to the conversation at hand afterward, however, now addressing the aggressive one's threat for information. "You see, I think you've mistaken how interrogations are supposed to go. When you establish your initial roles, you should stick to them. For instance," he jabbed a thumb toward his back, where the voice came from, "Even if what you're saying is true, and the one behind me is a blood-crazed being of the night, his immediate response to the situation was to encourage non-violence." He gestured, now, before him, "Whereas you have thus far have accused me of being insane, trespassing, possessing magic and...I dare not consider what 'abominable powers' might be referring to, but regardless, you've accused me of having them, accused me of using the ritual performed by the very cultists I just vowed to exact vengeance upon, accused me of being a defiler, and then had the nerve to finish it off by threatening me with violence should I not answer your questions, which you insinuated I hadn't answered truthfully. I have to question why you'd do that if you wanted an honest answer, as right now I actually doubt anything
I say to you matters. If you've already concluded I must have murdered this man and be some form of evil interloper, and are of the opinion that you must threaten me to get answers, what could I say that you could reasonably believe to be the truth?"
There's a moment of silence as Amunet-Ra just stands there watching Tyren. The moment stretches.
Finally she seems to relax a bit and opens her arms taking another step toward him.
Allright, you passed the test. Good, good. I knew all that. Of course. You have to see, there's every reason to mistrust down here. The tomb is a dangerous place which should be sealed off, but wax to many fractions are wandering about, all in the hope to get a spice of power from something which could destroy our world, some just want to destroy it. Forgive me if I seemed harsh.
My name is Amunet-Ra of the serpent singers. What is your name? We took along several others we met here, I'm willing to take you along as well, if you tell us some more about yourself, those cultists and that ghost. And do you know the sleeping one?
She then holds her hand up, signaling to wait for a moment, turns and shouts down.
It's clear, no hostile sheet, just more... Wanderers. Come up everyone!
Cae waits beside the Thri-kreen, curious about the Before creature's reaction to the state of the world.
Tyren keeps his eyes level, matching Amunet for intensity until finally she steps forward with arms out. Tyren smiles and nods. Truly, they are largely from very similar backgrounds, then, if the Serpent Speakers claim this as their territory. "Well, I certainly understand the merit of that. I work around a lot of crypts, actually...The organization I belong to tends the graves of the Free City of Tyr." He looked around, "And...Well, this might be mere conjecture, but I get the impression that, whatever your predecessors titled this place, there's a possibility it wasn't intended to be a tomb." He pointed again toward the glowing fungus, "This is magically produced. If it were meant to be adornments, then this cavern should be more similar to the floor here. I believe it might be an attempt at creating a self-sustaining food source, or worse...Magic source."
The scholar paused a moment, then seemed to remember his manners and shook his head. "Oh, my apologies. I'm rambling. My name is Tyren Lourofesh, and I'd tell you how I arrived, only I don't particularly remember." He paused, "Nor am I certain whom this other fellow is. I've companions who may know more than I, but I haven't sighted them since I've awoken, and can only hope that they yet remain within this...Tomb. As for these cultists, they appear to be the Cult of the Endless Grey. They are...Or were, I had thought...Fools who believed that the Grey was a benevolent place, and that by merely ritually skinning oneself, you could achieve eternal peace."
Tyren sighed, "Which is a falsehood, of course. The Grey is not a kind place, as the child with me learned. As it turns out, there appears to be some lizardlike creature behind this cult, using it as an opportunity to gather the identities of key members of various organizations. I have three already that the child helped me identify. The child is a spirit of one of the countless victims of this cult, but I know little more--While I likely should have gathered more information, my conscience simply sung out too much to her. I...Identify with her plight."
"What is up there?" Ri'Kli'Klek yells back up to Amunet'Ra, suspiciously.
Rokan sense a light-hearted missive to Amunet.
Hehe, nice recovery there.
He then looks back at the newcomer. Ah, Tyr! I hail from there as well. I took my training in The Way there, until the demise of my master. I am Rokan.
Tyren winced at the mention of 'demise.' It was a word those of Tyr were all too familiar with, in light of their Sorcerer-King's recent dethronement, and one which had brought with it much turmoil. "Well met, Rokan. I'm sorry to hear about your master--Tyr's suffered many tragedies of late. With any hope, the council will be an improvement over the previous lord."
He nods at the half-elf, but shrugs in resign.
I hope so too, for the sake of those who remain. But frankly, it is no more my home than this place anymore. My life there did not consist of solid anchors. What I had, it was only fleeting. I'm thankful to have escaped the city-state with material skills for self-preservation. From one wilderness to another, I suppose.
Rokan ignores the banter for now, observing the phenomena he initially beheld in this chamber. He privately sends a missive to the half-elf.
What are those four lights surrounding you? An energy source, protections?
"I can fly under my own power when I wish," Ri'Kli'Klek states, "Even were it not for that rope."
However, he makes no move towards said rope, instead continuing his questions.
"How long has it been since these... Cleansing Wars?" he asks the halfling. "I am not certain they had started before I slept, though I suspected..."
He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
The druid replies, seemingly hesitant to divulge this information, lest it frighten his audience,
The Cleansing Wars were well over a thousand years in the past of the Tablelands, sleeper."
Rokan ignores the banter for now, observing the phenomena he initially beheld in this chamber. He privately sends a missive to the half-elf.
What are those four lights surrounding you? An energy source, protections?
** spoiler omitted **
Tyren chuckled. "Wilderness is an apt term as any, I'd suppose. I suppose it would be appropriate to ask--You spoke of other parties within this tomb. To what end? Tombs have never fascinated the people before. Surely, they have more interesting things to do than pillage the homes of the dead."
"Not quite. We had our own traditions, the Akashamarga, but linked to the Prabhāsvaracitta in a fashion - we focused and mediated to commune with the soul of the world, wherein all knowledge is kept. she sighs, shaking her head slightly at the memory. "Forgive me, the memory is painful, and we have things to do." she says, and rises up to meet the others, landing softly and looking towards Tyren with a curious expression. "You seem to pick up new people at quite the breakneck pace. I feel almost usurped!" she quips, half-laughing.
Why are those other parties in this tomb of interest to you? Are you missing some comrades? I thought you were here alone, Tyren from Tyr?
You should know not everyone in this tomb is dead. Quite the opposite. The ancient inhabitants are only sleeping and sealed off and should stay that way, undisturbed. Unfortunately too many others seemingly took habitation here, disturbing the peace, searching for powers they should never acquire, threatening to destroy our world.
She looks around, then yells down back to Ri'Kli'Klek:
There are even more strangers and wanderers up here, who don't know how they came to be here or are sleeping. That's what they say at least.
I suggest we gather everyone and then go back to the Serpent Singers camp, presenting to the elders what we already learned and the newcomers.
This will certainly interest them and they may have additional information or requests.
Also we can safely rest there and sort some things out.
She goes over to the sleeping elf, prodding him to see if he wakes up.
You two come with us. You will get food and water and be our guests.
Tyren shook his head, "I know I'm here alone, but I actually was traveling with two others prior to my awakening here. Neither of them appear to be present, however."
When she made mention of powers that threatened to destroy the world, however, Tyren sighed in exasperation. Becoming a Dragon-God already destroyed so much of their world. Will others ever cease pursuing power, and simply pursue healing our world? "I've no objections. Perhaps, on the way back, we'll run into my companions."
Touching the ring om his chest, Cae practically growls out his protest at returning to the Serpent-Singers' camp.
"Is your nerve and resolve so brittle,
When the knowledge gained is so little?
The Seer's interest was for the quest,
Not entertaining yet another guest."
Tyren keeps his eyes level, matching Amunet for intensity until finally she steps forward with arms out. Tyren smiles and nods. Truly, they are largely from very similar backgrounds, then, if the Serpent Speakers claim this as their territory. "Well, I certainly understand the merit of that. I work around a lot of crypts, actually...The organization I belong to tends the graves of the Free City of Tyr." He looked around, "And...Well, this might be mere conjecture, but I get the impression that, whatever your predecessors titled this place, there's a possibility it wasn't intended to be a tomb." He pointed again toward the glowing fungus, "This is magically produced. If it were meant to be adornments, then this cavern should be more similar to the floor here. I believe it might be an attempt at creating a self-sustaining food source, or worse...Magic source."
The scholar paused a moment, then seemed to remember his manners and shook his head. "Oh, my apologies. I'm rambling. My name is Tyren Lourofesh, and I'd tell you how I arrived, only I don't particularly remember." He paused, "Nor am I certain whom this other fellow is. I've companions who may know more than I, but I haven't sighted them since I've awoken, and can only hope that they yet remain within this...Tomb. As for these cultists, they appear to be the Cult of the Endless Grey. They are...Or were, I had thought...Fools who believed that the Grey was a benevolent place, and that by merely ritually skinning oneself, you could achieve eternal peace."
Tyren sighed, "Which is a falsehood, of course. The Grey is not a kind place, as the child with me learned. As it turns out, there appears to be some lizardlike creature behind this cult, using it as an opportunity to gather the identities of key members of various organizations. I have three already that the child helped me identify. The child is a spirit of one of the countless victims of this cult, but I know little more--While I likely should have gathered more information, my conscience...
The diminutive druid gasps slightly,
"These followers of the Endless Gray -- they are also active in Raam. And I believe I can enlighten you somewhat on the nature of the reptilian entities you witnessed in your vision. These must be the dray, the same mysterious draconic entities that kidnapped Jimbli and me. We witnessed them flaying one of the caravan guards with which we journeyed into the desert. Your report uncovers the reasons behind the atrocious ritual. These beings are servants of the sorcerer-king Dregoth, who was long thought to have been defeated many centuries past by Abalach-Re and several of her compatriots among the rulers of the Seven Cities. He has, somehow, it would seem, returned... cells of this cult are also active in Raam, and the dray are infiltrating the ruins of Kalidnay as well. It was to uncover the means to divine their strange auras that we entered these ruins on behalf of the Serpent Singer Dreadseer Anubisemonekh, who promised such knowledge if we should recover certain artifacts of her people from the premises."
Tyren's eyebrows came close to meeting as he frowned, thinking through the possible implications of this new information. These...Dray, being used as serpents. The Deep Grey. The Sorcerer-King Dregoth, presumed to have been dead...Or perhaps, only ceasing to be dead very recently? "I was planning on hunting them down myself. Their ritual is cruel and threatens to spread through all of Tyr. But what you say leads me to believe I should offer my services to you. This threat seems to extend well beyond my personal plans, and regardless, my research will be waiting for me at home."
The druid replies, seemingly hesitant to divulge this information, lest it frighten his audience,
The Cleansing Wars were well over a thousand years in the past of the Tablelands, sleeper."
Ri'Kli'Klek is silent for a long moment, the other conversation not penetrating his thoughts as he takes this in. If the Cleansing Wars had been over for more than a thousand years, and had possibly not even begun when he slept...
...he had expected to awake and find all he had known gone. That did not make the mental adjustment of realizing just how true that was easier, though he had already suspected. Already known, really. The names, the ways of speech, the people, all were too different. Still, having the number somehow made it more real.
At last, he speaks. "At least I have not needed to be wakened for so long," he states, stoically.
Stillness was not just lack of motion, but clarity of thought, calmness of mind... His old teacher would have been pleased with his lack of reaction, he thought. He hoped.
"Though given the nature of my sleep and what I find on waking, I cannot but think I slept overlong. There are yet more here within these halls? I fear the risk of awakening what must not rise is great."
If you're willing to join the fight for freedom and our world, we accept your services. It is a deal now. Perhaps the elders can help with your ghost and determine how you might have come here.
She then turns to Cae
How dare you? Some of us might need a rest by now. We were joined by a lot of newcomers, some who haven't seen the light of the world for ages. Some others bear riddles with them. We also gained quite a lot of knowledge down here. Don't forget, this tomb was supposed to be closed. We even know more about the Dray. And don't worry, we will find your mistress eventually.
Jin En Mok stirs on the slab, closed eyes scrunching tighter to shut out the sudden, unwelcome brightness.
"mmmnph."
Her fingers grope for a blanket to throw over her head, something to shut out the light and irritating voices. A blanket is not forthcoming, and her hand encounters something hard and rough.
The tiny portion of her brain that has been fully roused from sleep considers this. On the one hand, it is strange. On the other hand,
Gu is a good watchdog. Nothing too threatening could possibly have happened, and another five more minutes can't hurt. Yes. That makes sense. Snuggle into the mattress for just another...
"mmmnwhaddafaaa?"
No mattress. Cold rock on her cheekbone. Something is seriously wrong.
Jin En Mok slowly sits up on the and tries alternately to shake the cobwebs out of her head and force her eyes to focus. No amount of blind fumbling to the right can successfully locate her customary cup of water- or, indeed, the bedside table they're supposed to be on. Once it occurs to her to rub the grit out of her eyes, though, things go reasonably well, and a bit more coaxing finally persuades her peepers to focus on the opposite wall.
"...What?"
No bed, no bedside table, no cup, no room, no explanation, and a roomful of strangers. Cold terror jolts through her veins, and Jin en Mok is fully awake, upright, and in a defensive stance almost instantaneously. She stares at her surroundings, looking at each person in turn, before finally relaxing just a fraction.
"...I suppose if you were entirely hostile you'd simply have killed me in my sleep. Good...morning? Is it morning?"
Is it? There's not much in the way of environmental cues, and Jin can't remember...anything about how she got here. That's alarming.
Have I suffered some kind of serious head injury?
Jin carefully and swiftly inspects her scalp with his fingertips, nervously conscious of how odd she must look to these strangers.
No bumps, no gashes, no headache. No peripheral sensation of tingling, pain or numbness, no dizziness or physical disorientation, no cardiac symptoms not attributable to understandable anxiety, no difficulty with language. No symptoms of any of the mind-affecting poisons that I can remember, then.
A telepath, then, or an enchanter?
Jin suppresses another shudder of dread at that cheery thought. The next step is fairly obvious. It's also so blatant a show of weakness that she dreads to make this her first impression on this group...but then again, if they are hostile, there are ways to make such an impression useful.
"...do any of you have any better idea of how I came to be here than I do? This is Tyr, yes?"
Tyren turned from the newcomers--Or perhaps Tyren and the stranger would be more apt as the newcomers?--And turned toward Jin. He gave her a quick lookover before nodding. Looks attentive. I suppose he's simply a deeper sleeper than I am. "Well, as a matter of fact, no. To both questions. No clue how we got here--When I woke up, you were asleep in this chamber with me. As for 'here,' I believe it's an accurate assessment to say we are very, very far from Tyr." He pulled out one of his bullets, giving a quick taste to one of the discolored regions that pattern the shell. "And judging by the potency of my bullets, I'd say it's likely been less than twelve hours since we were last in Tyr. That, or I've lost memory of the last few days."
Cae gives Ri'Kli'Klek a sympathetic look as he responds to the she-elf.
"Sleeping through an age, now restored,
The red sun's light is not much reward.
Losing time is what we should fear,
If rest is needed, then find it here.
Better than going through danger twice,
Only to come again and make it thrice."
Still hidden from view Hamza chimes in "I agree with the rhyming one. This cavern is large enough to accommodate us the night. Let's make sure we can not be ambushed while we sleep, and camp here. "
Wait, since 'we' were in Tyr? What does he mean by-
Jin blinks.
Ah. I remember him now. Name sounded like the city- what was it? Tyro? Tyren, that's it.
"Well, don't just hold *that* over my head. How far is 'very far?' Be a shame if I don't get to taste the salty mulled broy at the Obstinate Baazrag for a while. Stuff's addicting."
This seemingly trivial complaint is actually a coded Veiled Alliance recognition signal- an invitation to introduce yourself as an Alliance agent and speak freely if circumstances permit, or for a response containing the phrase 'stubborn baazrag' if there are those present who would make that inadvisable.
Tyren winced. He couldn't decipher the exact meaning of what Jin was saying--Tyren wasn't a formal member of the Alliance, after all. He'd merely been caught up in the crossfire. Strange, that wasn't the name of the Tavern we went to at all.
Nor is that the name of a tavern worth noting, so far as I'm aware. It was some strange gibberish, so far as he was concerned. Still,
Tyren suspected that Jin's original question--About how far away they were--Had to do with those strange winged ones with whom they'd been travelling initially.
So Tyren shook his head. "I...Don't know what you experienced back in Tyr, but the misty nights are far away from us now, I think," A reference to the last mission Jin had been on, as Tyren recalled, "But that said, I believe these fine folk work for someone who might know something or other about your Obstinate Baazrag."
There. That should clue Jin in that the leader of these folk seemed like the sort to work with the Alliance, maybe that would give him the knowledge necessary to complete his mission.
So the two of you - Tyren from Tyr and i don't remember you giving your name yet - think it is a good idea and time to reminisce about Tyrian food specialties right here and now? Not suspicious at all. Unfortunately we don't have the time to give you the chance to participate in traditional rituals where you could prove yourselves, so we're stuck with black or white here untill further notice. I suggest you open up a bit more and abstain from suspicious behavior.
Oh and you're deep under the ruins of Kalidnay here.
I suppose we could rest here, or even carry on if wished for. We might give our new entrants here some time to recover and catch up though.
She looks at the 3 newcomers.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20 + 21
So the two of you - Tyren from Tyr and i don't remember you giving your name yet - think it is a good idea and time to reminisce about Tyrian food specialties right here and now? Not suspicious at all. Unfortunately we don't have the time to give you the chance to participate in traditional rituals where you could prove yourselves, so we're stuck with black or white here untill further notice. I suggest you open up a bit more and abstain from suspicious behavior.
Oh and you're deep under the ruins of Kalidnay here.
I suppose we could rest here, or even carry on if wished for. We might give our new entrants here some time to recover and catch up though.
She looks at the 3 newcomers.
The elf can discern nothing of their hidden message, if it existed, which is by no means clear.