Testing. Is this thing on? Players call.
Looks good at first glance Boram.
Reporting in
Formally reporting in.
I am showing him in the character list.
Once the Oil of Iseleine is recovered, Jernigan Chimel proceeds
with the Anointing of Perfection ceremony.
During the blessing, the scepter must “rest” in Iseleine’s gardens
for three days, preferably on one of the many altars or shrines located
within the Gardens Below. During this time, the scepter must not
be moved so that it can “absorb” inner peace. After the required
three days, the scepter becomes attuned to death and tranquility. It
senses those near death and can hone in on nearby restless spirits.
The scepter gains deathwatch and detect undead (30-ft. radius), and
is able to locate creature (Akruel) with no range limits as long as
the wielder and Akruel are on the same plane. The scepter bestows
empathy on its wielder to travel toward Akruel. The feelings and
location becomes more intense as the distance decreases.
The Scepter of Faiths campaign continues in Splinters of Faith 5:
Eclipse of the Hearth, when the PCs venture into the Kanderi Desert
to fi nd a pyramid temple overrun by a band of gnolls and demons
from the past.
At this point in the campaign, the relic – called the Scepter of
Faiths – is equivalent to a +1 adamantine masterwork heavy
mace, with the ability to cast bless 3 times per day. It also has
deathwatch and detect undead (30-ft. radius) and is able to
locate creature (the death-priest Akruel) with no range limits as
long as the wielder and Akruel are on the same plane.
The Doors of Piety
Each of the stone doors (rooms H2 through H9) is
inscribed with a description of the temple that helped
defeat the dread Akruel, the required ceremony, plus a
snippet of verse showing the order in which each ritual
must be performed. The priests feared that one day
Akruel might escape and that the knowledge would once
again be needed.
The full instructions written on the eight doors for
restoring the Scepter of Faiths read as follows, with a
line-by-line breakdown immediately afterward:
“Forge first in Dargath’s fires,
Two kisses bestow by Ayianna’s daughter.
Bathe three drops of beauty on Iseleine’s spire,
Then shall Arden’s midday suns pour forth like water.
In the fifth hour of mourning, Voard’s humble tear
tempers,
With the sixth strike of Muir’s grindstone, virtue is
proffered.
Seven nights burn in Ninevah’s pool-like embers,
In the halls of eight disciplines, perfection freely
offered.
You have been travelling to the shrines to receive these blessings.
Úrtnechech would have joined the group just on the prospect of good (i.e. heroic) fights on offer.
As Boram made his pitch, Bharaz sat at the table. The Dwarven paladin of Dwefatur was covered from head to toe in full plate that itself had prayers inscribed all over it. Following the dwarf was a small stone elemental, about the size of a halfling. It too was covered in armor, only it had prayer runes inscribed all over it’s stone form. It carried a spear, which had prayer beads dangling from it. The elemental looked very much like a statue of a dwarf. If a statue could move, of course.
The dwarf raised an eyebrow at the halfling.
”Temple sent me to join ye. The elemental’s bound to me, don’t mind it. I call it Karak. Whose the halfling? Temple didn’t say nothing about another halfling. He’s with ye?”
"Finally! Something worth doing! I was afraid my joints would start to atrophy in this sand-cursed village. Gentlemen, I may offer my assistance. I am Cayugo Silverspear, unworthy servant of the Bringer of the Four Winds, Dame Torren."
"I am Úrtnechech and I have magic in my blood when I fight.
"I have no idea where that came from, but was exiled for it.
"Now I want to prove myself as capable as any warrior."
The stocky half-orc then sips on a pint of local rot-gut between large mouthfuls of his copious meal as he watches Boram trying to play his game.
"I'll give it a miss. How about a game of 'see if your breath burns'?
says Úrtnechech with a wink as he sips more of his pint mug full of rot-gut.
The priests at the Hanging Gardens assemble you all and explain to the rest of the party the details of the mission. You will proceed north from here across the mountains into the center of the Kanderi Desert to locate the Ziggurat of Arden. It lies some 300 miles to the north.They will provide you with provisions and pack mules. The trip will take about three weeks. Your first destination is the shield basilica this side of the mountains where you will resupply which lies 100 miles to the north.
Cayugo bows before the priests of the gardens. Piety was lost on so many young folk, especially in the cities, and it's given him a sense of peace beyond words to see them living this, a nearly cloistered life. The beauty of the temple and the gardens alone would have been enough to make him want to stay.
"But, best to spread one's wings, isn't it?" He asks enthusiastically as they pack their bags. "Isn't that right, Tikati?" The roc, as big as a man, perches nearby on a stone archway and caws loudly, as though in agreement. A small man himself, Cayugo is barely five and a half feet tall, and so it's quite the jump for him to haul himself and his armor up onto the animal. So situated, he is a regal sight. His mail is the shimmering blue of tropical waters, catching the light and rippling with a cloud pattern that seems to move on its own. His helm is crowned with small wings that crest his cascading golden beard. And from his back extends his silver spear, the weapon of his namesake, its sharpened silver tip gleaming in the sun.
"You quiet down!" He scolds Tikati, as the bird chirps questioningly at its master's dependence on another animal. "Soon you'll be strong enough to carry me on your own. Until then, shush!"
The dwarf sighed. The Cleric seemed alright, but the halfling and half-orc both looked like trouble. Still, the churches had deigned to assign him to this mission, and he wasn’t one to break his word.
”When do we leave?”
”When do we leave?”
Your mules are packed and ready to go.
Cayugo will "spur" his mule and set out, leading their little caravan for the time being. Tikati takes to the air, circling overhead to hunt, but never roaming too far from his master.
Tobold gathers his things after the priests give them their instructions. He looks to the new members and says, "My name is Tobold Cotton, jeweler. I was rescued by these fine people and will continue on with them. Let's see what we can accomplish."
Please give me a new order of march and spacing.
Bharaz will insist on being up front with his elemental guardian.
"Thanks. It will make the trip easier."
Then as he starts putting his gear on his mule, Úrtnechech starts talking to his new mule:
"Hmph. 'Mule' is a boring name. I'll call you 'Patches'. instead"
Once he has Patches loaded with his backpack and extra arrows, Úrtnechech will walk up in front, beside Bharaz.
He'll lead Patches with one hand and keep his longbow in the other, ready to to use at a moment's notice.
You set upon the trail to the north following the trail that leads away from the Hanging Gardens. It is worn well enough to follow for at least a few days without risk of getting lost. There is a light undergrowth on the fields around that often crosses the path.
A gentle breeze blows in from the field. Everyone make a DC 12 Fort Save vs Ragweed. Those that succeed on the initial save are immune to ragweed allergen for 1 year.
"What's wrong, boy?" Cayugo asks Tikati as the roc begins sneezing. Cayugo snorts and spits onto the ground. "Just a little dust, s'all!"
Those affected by this irritant must endure several days of the
classic symptoms associated with hay fever — watery eyes, runny nose,
sneezing, itching and a sore throat. minutes.
Take 1 point of CON and roll again tomorrow.
The mule is unaffected.
Tolbold looks around, "What dust is that Boram?"
Also he takes a –2 circumstance penalty to Perception and Stealth
checks and has a 20% chance of spell failure when casting spells with verbal components because of his watery eyes and frequent sneezing.
Úrtnechech just shrugs at Boram's misfortune.
"Does that happen often?"
Bharaz and his elemental Karak marched through the dust. Seeing the halfling fall prey to it, he shook his head. He felt for the lad, but there was little he could do. And he didn’t know the thief well enough to tell if words of sympathy would be taken as an insult or not. Many a dwarf would take it as fighting words if construed as an accusation of weakness. So the two marched along in stoic silence.