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Ogmios begins searching around for the creature vanishing into the smoke, his eyes unable to pierce whatever magics it was using to conceal it from sight. Shifting his footing, the giant Psychopomp focuses on the alleyway, waiting for the foul Siv to re-appear and meet Pharasma's judgement.
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Dimira, having earlier provided light for the group of Pathfinders, casts a cantrips to distract the div. Since the creature is invisible, she isn't sure whether it fell for her ruse. Zephyr looks up and holds her bow at the ready, waiting for a clear shot.
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The smoke dissipates, but the div is nowhere to be seen. Saleem holds and Zandu floods the other half of the alley with light, while Igmios draws back for a mighty punch.
Suddently the div becomes visible, right between Bottles and Zadeem, floating some 15 feet above the ground. It spares a smirk for Dimira, then turns to face the ground and hiss at Bottles, ready to perform some magic.
Zephyr spots her opportunity and lets a cold iron arrow fly. It strikes true, piercing the div from below to exit right between its eyes. The creature lets out a loud shriek, twitches in the air, and then falls to the ground even before its magic could take hold on Bottles. Its body quickly disappears, leaving just the mask on the ground.
--
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(nope!)
As the Div hovers over Bottles, but before Zephyr ends it, Bottles speaks from knee-level, "Wait, why should I trust you? How do I know it is not a trap? And why should I, any way?"
Bottles looks around, taking in the odd looks and eventually the light comes on, "So, none of you heard it talking? It was all in my head-- real talking in my head, not like the fake talking in my head?"
Bottles points. "It wanted me to go over there to the entrance of the alley, and keep strangers out."
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"Wow, what the...Ehm, what happened?" thinks out loud Dimira as she tries to focus on what she has seen, but in the end she's not able to figure it out. That...thing smiled at me... she thinks to herself, a shiver running down her spine.
"Well, it seems like we dispatched our guardian." Dimira takes a long look at Bottles, trusting the gnome istinctively. "There are several enchantment spells that can actually allow their casters to give mental orders to a target, but I always though that actual telepathy was a prerogative of the most powerful creatures in this world."
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Zandu cuts his tale short, the young girl about to be swindled by her first Sczarni Carnie and shrugs, waiting patiently for his magic to fade and for Ogmios to return to his usual size. He pats everyone on the shoulder with a beaming smile and stretches.
"Well done my friends! Never wavered for a moment, truly a tale to be told and rest assured it will! So that is use done with the merchant's tasks then? Shall we get out of this reeking alley and celebrate with a beverage before heading back? "
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Zephyr is pleased with her shut, and gives a little tip of her fancy pirate hat to the downed mask with a smirk. She picks up her wand and re-shoulders her bow with a jaunty whistle.
"Well, that coulda been worse, neh. I've no objections to a drink afore we collect our prize... though I s'pose we ought not tarry too long."
Zandu and Zephyr drag the group of Pathfinders into one of the local taverns for a quick celebration. After one drink (or a few drinks), you finds yourselves back at Margual's establishment.
The merchant is pacing the length of his shop when you arrive, looking worried. When he spots you he throw his hands up in the air. "Abadar be praised! What took you so long? It wasn't the Guardian in the mask, I hope? I would never want to see my favourite group of Pathfinder agents get harmed. Think of all the future dealings we could have?"
He looks genuinely happy to see you back and in good health. The Monadistic Archive still sits in the corner by the table, just as it was when you left with the mask.
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Waving off the disapproving tut resounding in his head from his mental connection eoth Ogmios, Zandu throws his arms around Dimira and Zephyr with a smile and sets off in search of a tavern for a cold (or at least cool) drink to toast a great victory over a foul denizen of hell. Once everyone is settled, Zandu raises his glass in salute.
"To us!"
And swiftly begins to drain his glass heartily.
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Dimira was happy to share a drink or three with her fellow Pathfinders. Too bad we're going to part so soon... she thinks to herself as she enjoys the moment. Her eyes are more fixed on Zandu than anyone else, but Dimira makes a point of avoiding to let the storyteller know about her attaction.
---
When they meet Margual again, Dimira blushes unwittingly as the merchant expresses his concern for them. He looks genuinely worried about us...We simply spent our time in a tavern, however...I'd tell him, if I could, but it wouldn't be wise.
"I think we met our end of the bargain, Master Margual" she says instead. "Now, did we earn your permission to take the Archive to our Lodge?"
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"Indeed, thank you Master Murqual for the entertaining asides, but we should be delivering the Archive. Our mutual friend is very excited about the prospect of delving into the knowledges within. May you be devoured quickly when the Sleeper awakens." Jann bows stiffly and helps to carry the Archive out.
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Zandu makes sure to change his clothes before meeting the merchant, replacing those stained slightly with ale for a fresh dark green silk which matches his eyes. Entering the restraint emporium, the storyteller gives the merchant a formal bow and a wink.
"Your due worry for our well-being touches our hearts i'm sure Master Murqual, alas my friends are correct in their observations, it is best we return to our esteemed venture-captain who i'm sure is worried about our welfare also."
Not likely, he finishes in a telepathic message to Ogmios, who merely sborts softly in reply. Once his companions are ready to leave, the Varisian offers Dimira an arm in the true style of the Taldan gentry before making their way to the Venture captains tower.
Marqual wrings his hands, then points to the chest. "Yes yes, of course. It's all yours." He gives a slight bow as he watches you take up the chest. "It was my deepest pleasure to do business with you. Mr. Magmum, please be sure to let your associates contact me. That sounds like an opportunity that one should not pass up, not in a 1001 nights."
He then coughs as he looks over your group, seeming a bit embarrassed. "Of course, maybe as a courtesy, I would be most appreciative if you could forget about the thing with my assistant earlier. It has been most helpful in conducting business, with those who do not suspect the truth. And not many do... My thankfulness would know no bounds if you could help keep it that way." He smiles knowingly. "I'm sure you'll be willing to oblige." He thanks you all and bows again, more deeply this time, then watches you depart.
--
Back at Farseer Tower, you are ushered into the meeting room on one of the top floors. The room has undergone some changes over the past few hours. The furniture has been pushed aside, and the resulting empty carpet space has cushions laid out in a circle. Unlit candles stand in a silent circle around the cushions. The formerly open windows are shut, perhaps to prevent the candles being snuffed by a stray breeze once lit, not that it makes a difference on this still night.
Wulessa Yuul is eager to see you, and she’s positively ecstatic that you're carrying the archive chest. "Wonderful. Finally." She allows herself a moment to stroke the soft wood, then straightens herself and points briskly, all business. "Please, set it down there against the wall. You did excellent work in procuring the Archive. I shall take a full account of your adventures this night shortly, but for now... I need some more of your assistance. " As she talks, she opens the chest and sifts reverently through the scrolls, unrolling and examining several, holding a few up to her ears, and seeming to listen to them.
"As I said before, these scrolls are relics of the Jistkan Imperium from thousands of years ago. What information I’ve found indicates that the Monadistic Archive recorded the thoughts and minds of some of the greatest thinkers of that empire. Not merely recorded in the written word—supposedly they copied the very minds of these men and women. Some binding entity within the scrolls brings these minds together into a collective of wisdom and lore, where each mind is no longer a discreet part, but melded into a greater whole. The ritual I have prepared should allow me to open the archive, but the effort of doing so prevents much exploration on my part. If I include you in the ritual, you can be my eyes and ears. Of course, this is not a process that can be completed in one night. This could take years. In the long run, a full team will be assigned cataloging duties, but tonight I cannot resist at least one brief expedition. I have sought the archive for so long, and I would be honored if you would help me with this foray into the mind of the past.”
"Good, good," the Venture-Captain says when you accept one by one. Her brows furrow as Bottles ask for more time. "An hour? What preparations would you like to make? The Archive is finally in our hands and I'm eager to get started."
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Her brows furrow as Bottles ask for more time. "An hour? What preparations would you like to make? The Archive is finally in our hands and I'm eager to get started."
"Besides, of course, fire, by best weapon against the unforseen is my alchemical mutagen. But my batch was consumed in aquiring the Archive. I prefer not to dive into the unknown without it prepared."
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"It seems like an exciting task to me. I'm in!" says Dimira, genuinely enthusiast about their new task. I mean, getting inside someone else's head, and not a mere man, but someone from the past, an enlightened individual whose mind might hold any number of secrets!
"I don't need any time for preparation, but I suggest we wait for Bottles to prepare his mutagen. In the meantime, does anyone know a fun game to play or something along that line?"
The Venture-Captain sighs, then gives in. "Very well. I've waited so long, an hour more couldn't hurt." She stays in the room while Bottles prepares his mutagen, looking over more of the scrolls in the Archive, intermitted with impatiently pacing the room.
When Bottles is done, Wulessa sits you on the floor, lights the candles, and snuffs the other lights. She joins the circle, unrolls the scroll before her, and has everyone link hands. She begins a sing-song recitation in Jistkan that takes about ten minutes.
As Wulessa Yuul finishes her invocation, she bows her head over the unfurled scroll, and the room falls silent. The only thing breaking the quiet is the snapping of the curtains, billowing in a heavy wind. Curiously, the breeze does not stir any other fabrics in the room; even the Monadistic Archive’s scroll lies flat on the floor. The door remains closed, and there is no sign the seance achieved its goal.
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Zandu lays back on one of the cushions and takes a swig of tea from the Venture-captains set with a satisfied sigh. With the general agreement to wait for the Alchemist to prepare, the bard winks at Dimira.
"I know plenty of things we can do to pass the time my dear."
The bronze skinned Varisian places a hand into a pouch on his belt and pulls out a battered Harrow deck before shuffling it dexterously. Dealing out to anyone who wishes to play over the course of the next hour and doing fortune tellings for those who desire.
"Yes Captain, how does this work?"
The Venture-Captain doesn't seem to have heard your words. She stays motionless, seated with her head bowed low.
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Zephyr is pleased enough to while away the hour in gambling, and tells Zandu again that he'll have a spot on her ship if he wishes it. When the time rolls around, she puts aside the play to make sure her bow is across her lap, and she holds hands with the others for the ritual.
When it's completed, she looks up and around, curiously.
"Strange, that wind," says the sylph, and disentangles her hands from the others in order to stand. "An' I know somethin' of winds!"
She spares a glance for the motionless VC. "She still breathin'?"
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Zandu stands from his lounging position and stretches, telepathically urging Ogmios to do the same and goes to investigate one of the windows. Looking non-plussed he turns to the room.
"There was no wind before, Katapesh was Silent, yet the curtains billow. I think our Captain has not warned us before starting this ritual."
There's no reply to Bottles' hailing.
Saleem withdraws his hand from the Venture-Captain's. As soon as he does, she stands up, head still low. Once upright she throws her head back, revealing a hideous visage with nightmarish features: bloodshot eyes, a bold nose, warts and wrinkles all over. The woman cackles madly. "You've fallen right into my trap. I shall feast upon your innards!" She cackles once more, then suddenly vanishes.
--
[dice = "Bottles"]1d20 + 2[/dice]
Initiative:
1st: Dimira
2nd: Wulessa Yuul
3rd: Saleem, Jann, Zephyr, Zandu, Bottles
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Where...are we? Still confused, Dimira looks around frantically, trying to understand where she is. When she sees the Venture-Captain's face turning into a hideous visage with nighmarish features, Dimira shivers. "Look out!"
Trap? What trap...Oh, I see...We've been so foolish! But it's not time to think about our mistakes now. We must protect ourselves and find a way out from here!
With a resolute expression on her face, trying to ignore the disturbing cackling, Dimira steps back, pulls out an alchemist's fire from her bag and concentrates on her signature spell. "Kahn Anbrennen!" she cries out in Draconic, releasing a cone of flame from her hands. "Burn!"
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Dimira hears a shriek comes as she releases her cone of flame, followed by a high-pitched curse. "You'll be first to die!" There is silence for a moment, then the woman appears right behind Dimira, raking her across the back with a bony claw. "You'll grovel like a dog before this is done," she spits in anger. The woman's clothing and hair is scorched in places, but she is not on fire.
(Damage dealt to you from the attack is reduced to 1. The Fort save DC is reduced to 14. If you fail, you suffer only 1 Strength damage.)
Initiative:
1st: Dimira
2nd: Wulessa Yuul
3rd: Saleem, Jann, Zephyr, Zandu, Bottles
Status:
Wulessa Yuul: 2 damage
Dimira: 5 damage
Pending:
Dimira: Will save (see spoiler), Fort save vs. Strength damage
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"Hmmm, I pay little attention to faces, but I suspect not. This would seem to be a new development.".
"You are right! Our Venture-Captain wasn't a Green Hag before!"
Then he continues half to himself, "Green Hags are known for their deceptive abilities and are quite completely vile. Burn it with FIRE."
Bottles takes a small step forward, and then with incredibly rapid motions assembles something from his various flasks and tosses it at the hag. Carefully judging angles he excludes Dimira and the Elidon from the blast. (Precise Bombs Discovery).
(against touch AC)
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"Do try not to get scratched anyone, their poison will sap your muscles!"
Wracking his brain for a moment, Zandu slams his flagpole to the ground, causing the Pathfinder banner to flutter in the false wind. After a short pause he begins a tale of a fearless Kellid, a witch having stolen her eldest child, creeping upon the hag's lair with only a long knife and iron fortitude.
He then ateps forwards, seeking to distract the hag from Dimira and sending a mental plea to his eidolon companion.
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Hearing the plea from Zandu to save the maiden in distress, Ogmios rolls his eyes ever the idealist, as if he had stepped into his own tales. Moving swifter than his bulk would indicate possible, the Psychopomp steps opposite the distracting Zandu and, bolstered by flag and tale he swings a fost at the hag.
for
for
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Saleem, Jann, Zephyr, Zandu, Bottles
Saleem ray of fire misses the creature, while Jann taps into her dark side and seems to find plenty of deranged thoughts. While she's still recovering from this assault Ogmios approaches and beats the woman to a pulp, even before Bottles throws his bomb.
As the woman crumples to the ground, her body dissolves. Nothing is left, except the scroll that the Venture-Captain held during the ritual.
Bottles finds that the scroll is empty. The writing that they saw was on there at the start of the ritual, seems to have gone. There is still a dormant magical energy in the scroll, waiting to be tapped.
--
As if triggered by Zephyr's words, the room suddenly lurches. The stone walls of Farseer Tower melt away, replaced by warm blonde wooden wall paneling and a plush, lemon yellow carpet. A canopied bed sits between two windows, through which the spires of an grand city are visible. A small army of dolls is pushed over to a corner, its slumping forms indicating some level of neglect. Instead, the preferred playthings in this child’s room seem to be books. A row of titles line a shelf on one wall, and several opened ones lie on the bed. Opposite the bed are a closed door and an elaborate vanity table. A mirror on the vanity reflects some motion not apparent in the room itself.
The figure in the mirror appears to be none other than Venture-Captain Wulessa Yuul, who looks worried. “You’re here!" she speaks as she notices you looking at her. "I thought, with how things had gone wrong, that perhaps you weren’t trapped in here as well. I... am sorry. I think I erred in my assumptions.”