This is for the players selected for table two.
"Well met.
Well Helloooooo
Tall tales and stories have lead you to an inn called "Crossroads." An inn in the middle of now where. This is the place were the stories start, and you hope to find answers here. The place itself is unimpressive, a small hut. Hardly the stuff of legend, but as you approach you begin to smell roast pork and onions. When you open the door the sound of a busy tavern assails your ears. Upon entering you see an impossibly large tavern hall. The interior is easily five times the size of the hut and it is filled with strange people. A blond haired human girl carrying a tray spots you and approaches. "By your expression you must be new here. Mail said here would be some new blood. Your table is that one near the fire. Mail will explain everything when he comes down. First drink is free. So... what will you have."
"Nothing for me, thank you." Umraeas says, making his way to the table.
This place is strange, it is unlike any magic I have ever seen.
Stomping on the ground as he enters to make a scene and to show his amazement at the sight, Narvolo replies "Narvolo will have mead. Sinz firs drink free, make id a big one." Narvolo wanders over to the table.
What the heck is this place? This isn't anything like what I've seen before. Maybe I'm still under the poison that sent me here and it's a dream. Better enjoy it while I can.
Khrome glides into the hut, his hair whirling about him in a smoky wispy manner, just faintly, you hear a choir of voices emanate from no particular area "Khrooooome", there is a slight metallic tone to the sound. Nodding at the barmaid, "A flagon of mead please."
His robes brushing the floor, Khrome glides to a seat near the fire, and takes in the room, noting each person, examining, searching..
Anaca glides into the open room, her ice blue eyes shine with wonder as well as judgement. A slight frown on her lips at the mixing of classes but it was to be expected in a place of fables. Her pale skin shows thin spidery capillaries in a powder blue color underneath.
"This should be the right place. So much larger inside." , she thinks.
No matter the class of the people around her she was of The Blood and looking down at her clothes she made sure every stitch was in place. One must always present an ideal for others to follow.
Her frown deepened, she was displeased at the lost of her jewels but since starting this quest sacrifices had to be made.
When the young Human girl spoke Anaca's face went neutral. Who was this Mali? How did he know her? How did he know she was coming? Was he gifted by the Harrow as well?
With an imperious nod of her head she followed the assembled to the table. Snippets skittered up on to her shoulder, a snow white rat with blue-white eyes of it's own, watching ....always watching.
"Bring me a tea. Place no more than four bits of ice in it. Six sugars." , the order was not mean but it rang as a command.
Narvolo pulls up the chair, spins it backwards and sits with the back of his chair against his chest. He sits next to him but within easy reach.
Narvolo looks at the people joining him at his table. "Whad is dis place? Dis a dream? Funny dream. Narvolo dream of smashing wid da Doom Bringa, but neva in a strange place like dis." The barbarian extends his hand to anyone at the table. "Narvolo's name is Narvolo. You may call me Narvolo. Narvolo is pleased da mead ya."
"Greetings Narvolo, I am named Khrome. Khrome takes Narvolo's hand and shakes it firmly, although Khrome has nowhere near the barbarian's strength. A wisp or two of smoke seems to pour from Khrome, and a brief metallic shimmer ripples across his entire person. As he stands and calls for more drinks, his elaborate cloak fans out almost resembling angelic wings. A somewhat impractical costume, but somewhere on the scale of slightly novel to impressive depending on ones background. A totally black very heavy crossbow is propped against the side of the table. You notice Khrome keeps a close eye on it.
"Magic, my friend. Magic." Umraeas says, "The names Umraeas, and magic happens to be my specialty."
Anaca pauses to listen to each, she is placing them into roles already in her mind. Ordering the disordered. "Lady Anaca Zoratovah.", her voice even and crisp, a little hard to read. Her hands stay in her lap.
A well crafted eyebrow perks, "We all arrive at the same time and we are all expected. This is the working of The Spheres, of Fate, yet I feel our ....host? Will have more than a slight hand in it as well."
Anaca's chin lifts up with a slight sniff still unsure of the people at the table or this place.
With promptness the young women returns to the table with your drinks. "Lets see two halfling meads, one ice ice tea four ice and six sugars, and here is a pitcher of ice water and some glasses. Anything to eat folks? We have nearly anything you could want."
Looking over the table Anaca reminded herself that out in the world Chaos ruled. She would have to remember that Class meant little to those who did not have the right to it. Out her she was...folks.
"Assuming your meat is fresh I require two slices of roast, lamb, with carrots and raisins. Bread with sweet butter. Lastly a rice pudding that should hit the table when I am nearly done with the meal, chilled."
With that she turned from the young woman and reclined in her seat. Her hand drifted up nearly on it's own and stroke under Snippets chin. The rat was still and nearly unblinking.
"What form of... magic ...Umraeas, was it?", again her tone held in the manner that one known to power or command would use. Her words were spoken in short crisp syllables.
"I walk in realms of Arcane as well. Old and primal paths for me."
Khrome takes mead and sets it on the table near him, but does not imbibe immediately. At the mention of food, he ponders a moment. "A large plate of smoked salmon, sliced, with capers. Cheesecake with a strawberry rhubarb glaze. Also a plate of various cheeses and fresh fruit. Thank you maiden."
Khrome takes interest in the conversation regarding magic. His silvery eyes smolder with a faint dark orange flame briefly.
"Indeed."
Looking to the young girl he speaks, "Again I'll have to decline, thank you for the fine offer though."
Umraeas turns back to the group, "All forms of magic, from the arcane to the divine. Nethys grants me magical knowledge beyond imagination."
A small laugh, it's full and a bit musical, "A bold claim. My imagination is vast I assure you. Still, confidence is a useful trait in one that seeks to touch the power of Gods I suppose."
Anaca gives the slightest grin before sipping at her tea. Taken aback for a moment it strikes her that it's...perfect. Just how she always had it in the castle. This would be worthy of a small amount of praise for the girl. Doing your job was mandatory. Doing it well, expected. This however was an achievement in her eyes worthy of note.
Now fully smiling she set it down.
"Nethys, a cleric then? I knew of a fellow with your leanings, hardly as well mannered as you seem to be. He was... destructive and chaotic. Caused all manner of troubles."
"Unfortunately there are those among us unworthy of the magical powers they have been granted. Nethys is the only being truly capable of granting magical power, all others seem to give to those who are unworthy." Umraeas says, his voice seemingly raising mid sentence, then lowering again as he contains himself.
She throws her head back and now truly laughs. It's a strong sound this time, a voice use to being used to command. As it rises once more and then slowly fades she clasp her hands slowly, "Bravo, bra-vo indeed! No not simply confident but zealous. A man convinced of his growing superiority and more so the unworthiness of others!"
Anaca gives a sultry and openly dramatic shudder, "Oooohhhh, yes I do indeed enjoy your view. Well I assure you Nethys has no use for me and I in turn place my faith in a much older and....never mortal source of power. If a King wishes water would it be better to drink deeply from a chalice or suck it from a rag?", she gives a little wink.
Narvolo's head spins at all this fancy talk. "Narvolo no use for fancy magic. Wands, whispers, mumbo-jumbo. Da Doom Bringa magically solves Narvolo's problems." Narvolo goes back to drinking, as he's not the greatest conversationalist.
"A place for all things and all thing in it's place, Narvolo. Few Ladies or Lords have enforced their might without the tools of war. You would fetch a fine price in my lands with the way you hold yourself I am sure.", the inclination of her head would tell some that her words are some sort of dark compliment.
Khrome listens politely, now sipping his mead slightly. After a bit he speaks "Nethys indeed has the right way of it, his focused sphere is one which I too follow, however there are so many powers, the trick is to determine which are the ones that will provide what you truly need. I have many years of study into magic, both arcane and divine. There are plans I have, carefully laid which will soon come to fruition; a path that I walk that shall finally reveal the truth."
Khromes bizarre wing cloak unfurls and furls again, and you seem to notice Khrome often utters things under his breath, and his eyes seem to focus on seemingly random points where you see nothing of importance.
"I never heard of him as being described as a focused God. None the less I can see how adoration of your chosen God King can be a source of power and , I assume faith? I've lunched with Diabolist and I hear much of the same from them. Mind you this is no slight, they were well and ordered people and that is all that mattered to me.", taking another drink Anaca crosses her long legs.
Gesturing with an elegant hand, "That is to say.... While I do not agree with your Adoration and assertion of Nethys as "The Way" I can see a relentless drive in both of you. Not unlike the simple but strong sense of will in Narvolo here. I put forward this idea, maybe we should share our time as we seek our way."
For a moment Khrome appears as if his mind is a million miles away. He turns back to the conversation, as if perhaps he had never participated in it, was merely listening to some nearby chatter. "Adoration is a curious way to characterize it, but ultimately it does not matter what words you use to describe the complex arrangement that exists between the powers and those who serve them. They serve us back, the arrangement being mutual if you examine it closely. Never equal, the power dynamic is always in flux. Strip away the myth, the songs, the prayer and you realize it is a conscious choice, a path to power for both. In reality everything serves consciously or unconsciously. At any time everything in existence is engaging in a relationship with everything else. To be able to understand and perceive these relationships in a useful way is a path to altering reality in a significant manner, perhaps only personally, but in time on a larger scale." Khrome trails off at the end, the rest incoherent gibberish. His babble will occasionally manifest as verbal components to cantrips, paired with a gesture or two. The quick words of magic may guide an unseen hand to feed himself so as not to sully his own hands with actually touching the food or drink. Or perhaps it fuels some minor prestidigitation, augmenting his peculiar nature.
For the first time he smiles, at nothing or no one in particular, and although he appears to be looking at you he appears to be gazing right through you at the same time. His smile seems unnatural and contains no mirth, although it appears to be a genuine attempt to seem friendly.
"I am looking forward to the dynamics that develop, the secrets we unlock have great potential. We start with this."
For whatever reasons she holds the words of the Wizard Khrome are just what she wanted to hear.
"Good. Very good indeed. I see no opposition here, between you and I."
This appears to be a large feast hall lined with trophies. Animal heads, strange weapons, and armor are but a few of the decorations. The people themselves add to the unusual decor. A centaur and satyr are discussing the virtues of nymphs. An angel and a devil play a game of chess. A even stranger creatures carry on strange discussions., but all hush as a lone figure descends down the stairs. He appears to be elven dressed in a white robe with many Ioun stones circling his head. He moves toward your table and sits without saying a word. "Welcome, I'm sure you have many questions. Now is the time to ask them."
Khrome peers at Mailhain. "Thank you. My research and interests have led me here. Stories and songs, all hint at a truth that I wish to reveal for myself. The nature of reality is a compelx puzzle I wish to assemble and solve. I would have you tell me what you know of the nature of our realm. My path will follow. Do you know why it exists in this manner?" Khrome's words seems to spill from his mouth in a strange cadence, his sentences, slightly awkward unable to summarize the thousands of questions swirling in his mind. His eyes blaze fiercely as Mailhain promises answers. Smoke seems to wisp faintly from his robes and hair and his cloak wings flex upward as Khrome leans forward intently.
Anaca eyes the Elf trying to peel away his layers, trying to see where he fits into the order of the Universe. He is plainly the host they have been waiting for but at the same time that does not explain who he is, or should they be asking what he is? Either way this "Elf" carries itself in such a way that she feels she is in the presence of a being of power, terrestrial power or more than that, she is unaware.
One should always know what one faces.
"What are you exactly? How did you know I was coming? Why do I feel I am being lied to, not by you but by....life? I can her it in Deceptions' words to me, feel it in her ways, Deception mocks me through The Harrow, mocks that I am being denied even greater power."
"My name is Mailhain Starfall." He paused for a moment and tilted his head as if listening to something. Then he continued "You are and have always been in a prison. It exists outside of your perception but I assure you it is there. There are entities that make even the gods tremble, and this prison was designed to hold them. Not by force, but by trickery.
These beings, if they could be called beings, sleep. In their sleep they dream. The worlds inside the prison were meant to keep them dreaming. This world was made to emulate a world outside of the prison.
As for what I am. I once was a mortal like you. An elven conjurer but my time here changed that. Now, I am a quasi-deity. More god than man. A path I hope you will walk someday"
"Narvolo is sleeping? Hmmm." Narvolo pinches himself, rather hard. "I like being Narvolo. Kwazi deidy sounds weird."
"I knew something was off about our world, I can feel the powerful magic surging around us. Is there something that can be done to free us from this prison? "
Yes as a matter of fact. I must leave this place for a time. But I have unfinished business here. Preform the deeds put before you and not only will you be freed from this prison, but you will be near to godhood.
And Narvolo if you do as I ask you will be nearly immortal.
Khrome nods sagely and this time smiles a true smile, as if his suspicious and theories are confirmed. "Excellent."
"Pardon me Mail, One smoked salmon, and two slices of roast lamb, you didn't specify how thick you wanted them cut. I assumed you wanted thick cuts. Your deserts will be out shortly. Anything else I can get you?"
Anaca stays silent, her eyes narrow. Trapped? A prison? Denied divine power? It sounds insane...lies... or is it? The Great Deception had spoken to her, laughed that she was being deceived herself. This may be what it meant.
Sliding her hand into her pouch she feels the shape of The Harrow and it gives her comfort. A prison? Her prison?
"Wait......"
She looks up from her thoughts.
"..why? Why would you tell us this? Why do you care about us? What do you gain from us?"
A quick glance at the girl.
"Y-yes. I mean no. No this is fine. As was the tea. Your service does your master honor.", Anaca places a silver coin for the girl.
"Mailhaim, is there more you can tell us regarding the nature of our prison. Perhaps some treatises I can review, or ...Oh splendid the food has arrived. Those cuts are fine."
Khrome telekinetically begins to feed himself.
"Please explain more, you have my full attention. Can you reveal the deeds that you wish for us to perform?"
Mailhain Looks at Anaca. "I care because, I could not live with myself knowing that your souls will be trapped inside this prison for all eternity, while I know of an escape. You could just forget about this and go back to your life. But your eternal soul will never reach its resting place. This I cannot do. I would see you free, as I will be soon."
His words strike her.
At first they make her angry, was that pity in his voice? She needed no one's pity!
Then she listened deeper.
Was it concern? Compassion?
Weakness! Obligation... He knew what other's did not. He had power over mortal kine and that gave him a sense of obligation. This she understood.
She grit her teeth and could not fight the feeling of being humbled.
With a sigh she spoke low and soft, "I... I thank you then. Your efforts shall not be wasted. What need do you have of me?"
"First, I will guide you on creating a spacial city. It will start small but over time it will increase in size. This city will house the multitudes of "souled people", as well as being your base of operations. As you increase in power you will enjoy the benefits of your fame, and I am sure, your fortune."
Narvolo's ears perk up when he hears that word and stops eating. "Fordune and fame? Narvolo like gold, wild women, and, uh, gold! Dunno aboud soul people, bud okay."
Khrome nods at Mailhain, "This I can do." Turning to his newly met aquaintances, Khrome asks "Shall we pool our talents, and see that Mailhain's goals for us become reality?" Khrome all but ignores his food and drink now, as the topic of conversation has cemented his interest.
Anaca simply nods and then raps on the table nine times to show her support for Khrome's words.
"You speak wid big words; Narvolo will use Da Doom Bringa and escape dis prison wid all of ya. If id need smashin, Narvolo smash id." Narvolo picks up his giant hammer and stomps it on the ground, a sign of approval back in his tribal meetings.
"The first thing you need to do is decide where you would like to build a city. This will be your base of operations, as well as a center for your power. Would you like it in the mountains, in a valley, maybe underground, even a cloud could be place for your city. Well maybe not a cloud, but a city in the clouds. The choice is yours"
"Narvolo likes moundains. Feet on da ground and see far and wide. Can we do id on top of a big, tall moundain?" Narvolo stomps the on the ground.
Khrome head swims with possibilities. He cycles through logistics and a myriad of possibilities, problems and potential situations. A valley sounded nice, a cloud fortress even better, but ultimately a mountain sounded just fine to him. After all, studying at the Storm Mountain Order of Magic for years left him with a fondness for mountains. "I don't see why not. Do we get to name it?"
"Narvolo know good name: Da Cidadel of Wonderland. Cidadel cause id a fordress of powah, and Wonderland cause you can do magic."