Silfr will go downstairs and check on Ghelve, patting Undzo on the way.
"Fear not, Gnomish Grandee Ghelve, we have vanquished the silver-sheened man in you room. Please, come forward, and tell us more what has transpired. Can you tell us more of those strange people who have invaded your life?"
The spike?
Glimmil gulps, his eyes quickly darting to his bag.
He'll probably make me go hammer it in and then.. and then...
Glimmil thought hard for a moment.
... and then Finneas wouldn't have a chance to beat one of them back down in glorious combat!
Glimmil knew what he must do.
"Tuigim", he nodded, the Gnomish words rolling off his tongue.
He did understand - the half-orc needed a fight to redeem himself!
Never having a gnome PC before, I tried to think about which real world language to draw inspiration from for Gnomish.
Irish Gaelic seemed like the most appropriate.
In a little research, apparently there is no direct translation for "yes" or "no" but instead you answer "I understand" or "I agree" - with a verb.
That seems appropriate, that Glimmil would never give a straight answer when speaking Gnomish.
"Tuigim" = "I understand"
"Who are you and why did you try to kill me? What are you doing in Ghelve's shop?"
"Not the bird's feathers. Just river stones. Keep people out. No need to kill the cloud. He'll blow away in the breeze not to be seen again."
Silfr will go downstairs and check on Ghelve, patting Undzo on the way.
"Fear not, Gnomish Grandee Ghelve, we have vanquished the silver-sheened man in you room. Please, come forward, and tell us more what has transpired. Can you tell us more of those strange people who have invaded your life?"
"They came up through the door, the door to Jzadirune. I haven't visited it in decades, not since the vanishing. They, they said they'd kill me. They took Starbrow, said they'd kill him and me if I didn't cooperate. There are the silver ones and shorter ones that look like us but in a sinister way with pallid skin, large noses and soft black hooves for feet. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Male voice: You should kill him for lying to you.
"It's ok Gimmil, it probably doesn't matter now. I'll want my spike back of course."
Shaking his head.
"I can't make any sense of this one. What is Jzadirune and the vanishing? Who is Starbrow? Your familiar?
By us I assume he means gnomes
"Soft black hooves for feet? Does that sound like anything anybody knows about?"
1d20
He appears truthful.
Male voice: You should kill him for lying to you.
Images of people being boiled alive, drawn and quartered, beheaded, evicerated, and chopped to pieces flood your mind.
"I can't make any sense of this one. What is Jzadirune and the vanishing? Who is Starbrow? Your familiar?
By us I assume he means gnomes
"They came up through the door, the door to Jzadirune. I haven't visited it in decades, not since the vanishing. They, they said they'd kill me. They took Starbrow, said they'd kill him and me if I didn't cooperate. There are the silver ones and shorter ones that look like us but in a sinister way with pallid skin, large noses and soft black hooves for feet. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Atol awakens from his slumber and walks over to poor Ghelve. He speaks in a soothing tone, "Ghelve, it's OK. What you did you did out of love for your Starbrow. We understand. But please expand on what you said, for some of it is unclear to us. What is Jzadirune?"
My head is spinning, I must keep all of this clear lest I lose control! Atol eyes the silver man and tries not to think of the gears spinning in the clock.
"And where is this door?"
Dyrant wants to see the door.
"Ghelve, it's OK. What you did you did out of love for your Starbrow. We understand. But please expand on what you said, for some of it is unclear to us. What is Jzadirune?"
"I gave them keys, keys to my locks, to all of them. They came up from Jzadrune, the former gnome enclave. It was abandoned decades ago after people started vanishing, literally, just fading away."
"In the wall next to the large puddle of my blood."
"In the wall next to the large puddle of my blood."
Damnation, did I miss more bloodshed?!
"Right. Before we proceed, is anyone else still injured?"
"Really? People just vanished in this enclave? People would just disappear?" Dyrant looks at the Ghelve, then at Atol, eyes squinting.
1+1=2
"It might be that we need to explore that place. Atol, you should definitely come."
As Glimmil's grin remained, he dug around through his bags and produced the door spike.
This one doesn't have a sense of humor either, something else we'll need to work on! Bravery, humor and his warrior skills too!
With his hand out-stretched, he offered the metal item back to the half-orc.
"I couldn't bring myself to hammer it in... I thought, even if there are more of the silver-men behind the door, that, that..."
The gnome tried to come up with rousing words to inspire the half-orc.
"That it meant an opportunity for you to show your valor and redeem yourself, Sir Finneas! And why would we delay such a thing!"
The Cuthbert would reward bravery wouldn't he? Or she? Oh, I wonder if the Saint of the Cuthbert is a woman....
Glimmil gestures at the arrow wound Finneas recently took, "That wound is healed, isn't it?"
"Not the bird's feathers. Just river stones. Keep people out. No need to kill the cloud. He'll blow away in the breeze not to be seen again."
After his exchange with Finneas, Glimmil finally comes to realize the talking rug is actually the silver man.
"Oh?" the gnome says, looking into the silver-man's eyes.
"How many feathers does the bird have?"
"Where do clouds go to gather on a day like this?"
"It might be that we need to explore that place. Atol, you should definitely come."
With serious conviction, "I shall be honored, HONORED, sir, to follow you there. Anything else I may do to help?" He likes me!
Know (History) on Jzadrune
Dyrant wracks his mind to try to remember what he knows of Jzadrune.
As Atol speaks, Dyrant just nods as if he is not really listening to the answer.
"They came up through the door, the door to Jzadirune. I haven't visited it in decades, not since the vanishing. They, they said they'd kill me. They took Starbrow, said they'd kill him and me if I didn't cooperate. There are the silver ones and shorter ones that look like us but in a sinister way with pallid skin, large noses and soft black hooves for feet. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Silfr will attempt to calm the troubled gnome.
Diplomacy
"Listen Ghelve, here is what we are going to do:
My companions and I will explore the area through that portal to Jzadirune. With caution we will come up with a plan to rescue the taken.
You will stay and secure this door behind us, using your most cunning locks and keys which have not been appropriated by the silver suffused scoundrels.
And with great caution we shall devise a way for us to escape without taking the key into the earth. I defer to your crafting skill, but suggest the following: You place the keys on a table within 25 feet of the door, perhaps obscured amongst other objects, and leave a hole just wide enough in the door for their passage. Should we need egress when you are not at hand, I will use the arcane cantrip Mage Hand to pull the keys through the air and thread them through the opening, so we may unlock the door from the Jzadirune side. What do you say?
Together we will rescue Starbrow, and secure the town!
Upon hearing Silfr's proclamation.
"I suggest we get underway then. Dyrant, do you want me to grab any more drapes in case there are others to be detained? And what are we going to do with this fellow while we're at it? As Kord says 'Leave not an enemy at your back, lest the bugger gut you while you're not looking'."
"Kill him. He shows no intelligence, no remorse, no intent to help us rectify what he has done. He shows no interest in rebirth nor turning to the light. He will not help us find the missing and undo his evil. He shows no regret for his actions against you, Finneas, he will not be redeemed. Kill him and let us move on to those who might be redeemed. He is remorseless for his attempted murder."
A man cannot find forgiveness in silence.
Dyrant considers bringing yet more curtains, but realizes they will not be bringing prisoners out of the dark if they are like this one.
"We will not need more curtains, Finneas, not where we are going."
"Let us at least not kill him here then. I'm sure Ghelve has enough worries without disposing of a body and cleaning up more blood than mine."
Ghelve regains a bit of composure. "Yes, people would just vanish. We didn't find out if it was a curse, or a disease, or magic gone wrong. We abandoned Jzadirune 75 yeras ago. Are you really going to go down there? If so, I have an old map in a drawer upstairs. It might not be complete, but should help."
Turning to Silfir, "I can do what you ask. Anything to make amends."
The silver rug responds to Glimmil, "The number of feathers is the bird's business and only for the bird to know. The clouds do not gather. They disperse with the winds of change to reveal a new sky."
As the silver-rug-man is swept up by Finneas, Glimmil stands on his toes, attempting to divine one last answer from it before it's head is bumped into a wall.
"The bird! Surely it does not fear the worm! What is the bird's name?"
As the silver-rug-man is swept up by Finneas, Glimmil stands on his toes, attempting to divine one last answer from it before it's head is bumped into a wall.
"You cannot bottle a cloud! You cannot bottle a cloud!"
Through the secret door are steps down to a platform. There are no lights. Who will have a light source?
"If we have no torches I can cause light to project from some object. Are we all ready for this?"
Female voice: Have fun dear, try not to get shot again!
Passing by the open passageway, Glimmil's attention is torn from the man-in-the-rug.
"Oooh, a passage into the dark." he beams with eagerness.
Looking about at the others, he holds his shiny shield aloft and proudly proclaims, "I shall lead us into the dungeons below - fear not, your safety is assured as companions of Glimmil Cobwaddle!"
"Before we begin, I shall take a moment to prepare a spell of my own devising. Ghelve, I assume you will be untroubled if I use your upstairs room for the sake of privacy and reduction of distraction? I can ensure no arcane damage will result."
Undzo was able to dine on "Sonnets for Serious Smiths and other Non-believers."
"Before we begin, I shall take a moment to prepare a spell of my own devising. Ghelve, I assume you will be untroubled if I use your upstairs room for the sake of privacy and reduction of distraction? I can ensure no arcane damage will result."
"Yes. Yes. Please feel free to use any room."
Atol happily casts Light and follow s Glimmil closely to renew it every 10 minutes. He also examines the creatures crossbow and compares it with his own... and assuming it's no better, loads his own and continues on.
I am an important part of the team.
"Here Atol, why don't you carry this."
Finneas hands Atol the crossbow.
"You'll be far more effective with it and could use a backup."
Falling in place behind Gimmil.
"Lead on my short friend, I'll behind you."
Remember to watch out when he gets distracted by shiny things. Like his shield.
A stone staircase, its steps shrouded with cobwebs and dust, descends twenty feet to a ten-foot-square landing, then bends to the right and plunges into darkness.The landing itself is bare save for an empty iron torch sconce mounted on the south wall. You can hear strange sounds emanating from around the corner, specifically chirping birds, rustling leaves, and cheery giggles.
Silfr had gone upstairs and after a minute or two, returns a changed man. Surrounding his familiar form and clothing glimmers a magical, partially translucent suit of golden full-plate armor as would befit a paladin of some significance.
Silfr seems quicker, and more energized, rejoining the party.
Combat Stats with Synthesis:
Darkvision 60'
Str 16, Dex 12, Con 13, Int 14, Wis 14, Cha 20
AC 15 (10 + 4 natural armor +1 dex), touch 11, flat footed 14
CMB +4, CMD 15 (10 + 1 bab + 3 str + 1 dex + 0 size)
Initiative +1
HP 9 + 7 temporary
Fortitude +1 (con +1, class 0)
Reflex +1 (dex +1, class 0)
Will +4 (wis +2, class 2)
+4 hit, d8 +4 damage, optional free CMB +4 to push 5 feet directly away
Eidolon
Glowing holy armor and weaponry from the great beyond.
Biped, +2 natural armor, size medium, move 30 feet
HD 1, Bab +1, Armor Bonus +0, Str/Dex bonus +0, evo pool 3, max attacks 3
Str 16, Dex 12, Con 13
Free Evolutions
0 claws (replaced)
0 limbs (arms)
0 limbs (legs)
Evolution points: 3 (+ .25 from favored class)
1 Slam (replaces claws, d8 primary attack, 1.5 str mod damage as sole natural attack)
1 Improved natural armor (+2 NA)
1 Push (on hit free CMB to push 5 feet away, no provoke)
Upon Silfr's entrance, Glim can only stand, mouth ajar.
He looks... so much more valorous! Is this a trick?
Rubbing his gnomish eyes, Glimmil squints again at the summoner, marveling in the ethereal armor that surrounds his companion.
"Well! What are we waiting for?"
Glimmil hops down the steps with the eagerness of a child at a carnival, holding his glowing shield aloft, his gnomish hook-hammer waving to and fro as if he were already battling armies of silver-skinned men.
Dyrant will stare at the old man in new mail for several moments, gathering all his thoughts into the one word that sums up his entire thought process: "wha?"
Dyrant will pull out his crossbow, load it, and stand directly behind Atol as they march.
I hope my finger doesn't slip. Would they believe me if it did?
Dyrant tries to break himself out of his thoughts of vengeance with a distraction: "Who has the map? May I hold it?"
Gazing at Silfr in awe
"So the stories from my youth were right!"
You now stand on the landing with the empty iron torch sconce mounted on the south wall. You can see a room ahead of you, but the source of the sounds is still a mystery.
As the light of his shield reflects off the empty, iron torch sconce, Glimmil briefly wonders if it's worth adding to his collection.
Looking back to ensure his companions aren't far behind, Glimmil continues to descend the steps, holding his glowing shield ahead of him.
This place sounds happy - strange for somewhere dark!
The staircase ends at a forty-foot-square room with a ten-foot-high ceiling. A slight draft blows into the room from a ten-foot-wide open passage in the far wall, directly across from the stairs. Two four-foot-diameter circular doors are set into the middle of the south wall. Each door is made of wood and framed with a ring of mortared stones. The westernmost door is closed and inscribed with a strange glyph. The easternmost door bears a different glyph but rests half-open. The half-open door reveals an iron rim of gearlike teeth, and a dim light spills from the chamber beyond. Mounted to the walls of the room are twelve tarnished copper masks. The masks are two feet tall and cling four feet above the floor. Each one depicts a smiling gnome's visage. The soft giggling, chirping, and rustling noises seem to pour from the very walls. As Glimmil enters, one of the masks announces,
"Welcome to Jzadirune - behold the wonder!
But beware, ye who seek to plunder.
Traps abound and guardians peer
Beyond every portal, behind every gear."
"This is not what I expected."
Watch the open tooth door.
Glimmil beholds the wonder.
He stands speechless for several moments, mouth agape, his head and eyes taking in the detail of every mask.
Should I respond?
Puffing his chest out, and throwing his shoulders back, he bows at the room and announces himself.
"I am Glimmil Cobwaddle the Third!
I wish no plunder, but a Silver-skinned Bird
Remember my name, it's Glimmil Cobwaddle,
Seeker of dispersing clouds to bottle!"
He proudly looks around at the others, as if his proclamation was somehow an answer to an invisible sphinx's riddle and an essential part of their progression through Jzadirune.
Garl will be so proud of me!
Puffing his chest out, and throwing his shoulders back, he bows at the room and announces himself.
There is no answer. Glimmil will be able to read runes on the doors in gnomish. The closed door has a 'J' on it. The partially open door has an 'A' on it.
Shrugging, the gnome turns to the others.
"I guess they weren't expecting me."
"That one," he says, hand outstretched to point to the closed door, "has a 'J' on in from the gnomish alphabet. The other there," he says, sweeping his finger across the room to point at the opened door, "has an 'A'".
He looks up to Silfr and Dryant expectantly, as if those two particular two men should know what this all means.
Moving up to G3, Dyrant takes out the map and begins to place the stairs with the confines of the room.
"Where are here," Dyrant points to the map and asserts with confidence, "and through those doors there," Dyrant points to the double doors, "are two equal sized rooms with no other exits."
"I'd suggest going through the first door on the left, then the one next to it."
"I am Glimmil Cobwaddle the Third!
I wish no plunder, but a Silver-skinned Bird
Remember my name, it's Glimmil Cobwaddle,
Seeker of dispersing clouds to bottle!"
Dyrant facepalms with the map, giving it a solid crinkle down the center.
Ah, he picked the 'A' door. I should have known he'd pick it .. 'A' is for Atol, his fellow Cuthbertite and his bestest friend in Cauldron.
Glimmil stands a few feet away from the partially closed door and concentrates on sensing the presence of any evil do-badders within.
"Do you feel the breeze from the far corridor?"
Silfr strides past Glimmil's position and goes to far hallway, looking for anything that may suggest what lies beyond and smelling the air breezing down the corridor.
"Dryant, what does your map say of the area? Should we investigate these doors guarded by the gnomish gear gauntlet, or continue down the hallway?"
"Do you feel the breeze from the far corridor? Perhaps there is another secret way into the city that the silversheen foes are using. I suggest we investigate, and seal it before facing the gnomish gear gauntlet that leads to Jzadirune."
Silfr strides past Glimmil's position and goes to far hallway, looking for anything that may suggest what lies beyond the doors and smelling the air breezing down the corridor.
These doors may open up to a neighboring shop. We needn't barge in, but still should find what they guard before spiking them shut.
He then proceeds to the double doors, listens at them, and should he hear nothing, will slowly open them.
Dyrant points to the partially open door on the left, and repeats himself politely, "I'd suggest going through the first door on the left, then the one next to it."