Varkata cocks her head at Karethas' reaction, That doesn't look promising... Wish I knew what they were saying... I really should have cast comprehend languages or tongues before we came in.
Amir starts bartering with the Efreeti merchant not realizing that no one other than Karethas can understand him. The Efreeti digs through a pile of jewelry and pulls out a brass ring detailed with the finest engraving of geometric flames that seem to dance around the band. Amir shrugs and mops at the sweat on his forehead. He looks at the others with a placating smile, "It will cost all the treasure of the bottle, but this ring will keep me safe from all but the worst inferno, eh?"
Varkata shrugs then smirks, "Wouldn't do to have you collapse from the warm breeze, old man... Besides, I think we rather like having you around, and not crispy."
Kzrira chuckles at Varkata's comment:
Yeh, old and crusty is supposed to be your personality, not your skin tone.
As the Efreeti inspects the wares that have been traded for the ring, Amir questions him in the language of fire.
Then the old rogue leads you out of the shop and back into the blinding light and simmering heat of the great Efreet Capital. Amir beckons his companions to follow. He winks at Karethas, "The Efreet are very vain, but particularly susceptible to flattery, I have learned. Not only did he direct me to a likely place for the arrows that we seek, he even gave me a contact that is certain to have what we need."
Heading out through the endless stalls and pavilions and shops, the heroes eventually arrive near the burning brass walls that separate the Bazaar from the Noble Districts. Here the smell of burning coal and pounding of hammers fills the streets as shop after shop features Azer slaves and other skilled captives forging all varieties of weapon and armor.
Amir looks over the placards hanging above the entrances of the rows of forges and foundries until he finds the one he is looking for in a back corner of the Arms Market. "The Executioner's Edge" Amir reads aloud looking nervously at the array of huge axes of all varieties that would shame even the fearsome thing wielded by the Carrion King. Around the back of the shop is a rather drab looking tent with no distinguishing marks. Amir jabs a thumb at it and whispers, "The House of Nam'Umun." He moves to the entry and clears his throat and speaks a brief phrase in
A tall burkaed form appears, totally hidden within the folds of the crimson costume except for bright green eyes. A purring woman's voice comes from the form speaking Kelshite, "Welcome, far travelers. Enter, refresh yourselves a while, and tell us what brings you to our humble tent."
Karethas squints at the plain looking tent, "Nam'Umun? I am assuming what we are doing is illegal here?"
Amir gives a wry smile and shrugs, "Of course, but illegal for Efreet is probably the right thing for us, no?"
Varkata shakes her head with a wry smile, "I must be sobering up, because the old man's logic seems to hold."
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Amir nods his greeting, and enters the tent smiling. Two things are obvious: that the foyer could fill the entire tent as it appears from the outside though it is evident from the rooms seen beyond that it does not and the broiling heat, still felt through the various protective wards that prevent damage if not discomfort, does not exist within the tent. It is comfortably cool. The entry area is floored with exquisite carpets and a low table is off to one side surrounded with piled pillows. The woman beckons you to have a seat.
Kzrira follows Amir into the tent, hoping to find some arrows that might aid her against the fiery enemies that will have to be faced.
Karethas finds a comfortable spot among the cushions and offers a careful complement "What a luxurious, if unassuming, place of business you have here."
The woman nods in acknowledgement of Karethas' compliment, but says nothing more for the moment as the others are seated. Kzrira looks somewhat impatient with the niceties. As if on cue, four slaves appear to cover the table with dates, pomegranate, grapes and other fruits along with cool drinks. The slaves are strange, hairless human-looking creatures of average height with blue skin and languorous movements.
Amir takes note of the creatures and their movement and assuming he is in a situation where to turn down such an invitation would be rude, he is very...obvious...in his decision to take part in the offered luxuries, A shame that such hospitality and grace surely goes unappreciated by the likes of those who make up most of the city...
Varkata bows her head in thanks as the refreshments are served, then looks to the hostess, building off Amir's statement, "Indeed, you have in mere moments shown more hospitality than most on this place."
Kzrira, not the most skilled in the social disciplines, picks up a date and tries it.
Yes, this is definitely much . . . cooler . . . than the rest of the city.
Diplomacy(aid another): <-- not too insulting
The veiled form's eyes shine with humor. "The Efreet are intolerably arrogant, that is true. And you are very gracious guests. Please, continue to enjoy. Nam'Umun will join us shortly."
In fact, it is only a few minutes more before a richly dressed man enters from one of the side chambers. His face is hidden behind an ornate tiger mask. "Greetings, my guests. It seems that we share a common acquaintance that has made this meeting possible. So tell me, why do you seek Nam'Umun?"
Karethas looks over the rim of his goblet as he takes a deep drink of a refreshingly cool beverage. Seeing that Amir is playing coy, he takes the lead. "You may not be widely known, but in certain, important circles you are quite respected. My friend here has friends who indicated that you have inventory that might be called...taboo. It is said that you might have arrows that are particularly potent against creatures aligned with this plane or who are more devious in nature."
Kzrira nods in agreement at Karethas' statement.
Yes she says, as she takes out a shiny adamantine tipped arrow. This arrow is excellent against creatures with tough hides, say creatures from the Plane of Earth. Kzrira puts the arrow back in her quiver. My bow can make arrows cold. I was hoping for some magic to make them even more damaging to those who claim the City of Brass and the area about home.
The tiger masked man tilts his head in query asking the archer, "But we call the City of Brass our home. Do you seek to harm us with these weapons?"
The veiled woman laughs sensing the jest in Nam'Umun's question. "Ah, I think that they wish to target the Efreet specifically. We have nothing to fear do we? Surely, selling the archer a quiver or two of arrows that harm the Efreet may irk them, but will prove profitable for us?"
The owner of the back-alley tent scratches the chin of the mask and then nods. "Yes, but such items are confiscated by the fiery lords of the city and anyone selling them is exiled or worse. The price will have to reflect the scarcity and danger of dealing in such goods. I can perhaps provide 20 arrows that inflict great harm on the native denizens of this plane in trade for items totaling some 8000 gold coins of your native realm."
Varkata tenses, then relaxes as the veiled woman begins to laugh, Aye, and I suppose this is just another joke for you to enjoy, isn't it? She nods, "One Efreet in particular, in fact. And his minions."
Scarcity and risk are all well and good, and important parts of the calculation to be sure. But if we are to find success in our task, success greatly aided by your supplies and efforts, we will have defeated a foe that has stymied the riches of our kingdom. Our leaders will wonder where we found the tools to defeat our foes and upon whom they might do reliable business with the vast wealth they have retained in a new era of peace. The recommendations and fond salutations of their returning heroes may turn many an eye and coin to the City of Brass and those within it who helped us in our hour of need...
Amir's proposal is met with silence. Finally the tiger-masked figure steeples his fingers and asks, "I do not think that fame is really what I seek, but if you can guarantee markets in your own land, you may have my interest."
I am a man with masters. But masters that trust. I am a man with connections and those connections ALSO trust me. The greatest markets of my lands are known so well to me I fetch discounts and many smile to do business with me. I cannot guarantee a thing, sadly the markets are just not so, but I can offer high praise and as many bent ears as may listen. Would I do anything less for the merchant who aided my very survival? And if discretion is the order of the day...I know that marketplace as well as the others.
Karethas remembers discussions at the dinner table with his merchant father, "With a consistent and economical method to travel between the planes, the devaluation of gold here and the increased demand for magical items here could potentially make for a very profitable trade arrangement." Karethas manages to state what is obvious to the actual merchants at the table, who instantly recognized this potential.
The mask and veil surely conceal the amused smiles resulting from Karethas' awkward business speak. Nam'Umun straightens the ornate collar of his fine jacket which seems to indicate the end of negotiations. "I look forward to future talk of business opportunities with you, but for now, I have other things to attend to so let us conclude our deal and I wish you well on your venture." The tiger-masked merchant nods slightly and disappears through a curtained door. A blue-skinned slave soon appears with a quiver of fine arrows with white rune-carved shafts and pale blue fletching.
Assist Diplomacy:
Kzrira rolls her eyes at Amir's silver tongue.
He once talked a mermaid into buying water. If you want someone to find a buyer, or a seller, for something, Amir is the man.
Varkata nods, "The old man is overly modest. He is owed a number of favours, and would certainly be able to use them in certain corners to ease your goods into the marketplace."
She rises in response to the not-so-subtle dismissal, then nods her head respectfully, "Thank you for your hospitality."
The veiled woman finishes the transaction and her eyes shine with humor as she sees you out of the tent. "I think that you made a favorable impression upon Nam'Umun. Keep the arrows hidden well and count them later. You will find that the quiver holds a few more than expected."
The adventurers make their way out of the arms market and into the wider bazaar where Efreet guards fly overhead and cast a disdainful eye on any lesser beings below. Soon enough, the Heroes have returned to the strange temple shaped like a coiled chained. The Azer priests allow you entrance and lead the way once again to the sanctum where Anwar Alim awaits. "I take it that you have completed your visit to the Bazaar. Nefeshti has left. It was too dangerous for her to remain long within the City. It is best that you quickly conclude your business as well. If you are ready, we shall show you the Path."
Seeing that the Heroes are ready, Anwar Alim leads them back to the Great Shrine. The roar of fire fills the vast hall. In the center are two platforms; a small one with a massive brass gong and iron brazier and a large, lower platform supporting a colossal free-standing archway carved of blood red stone and festooned with black chains. Six Azer priests stand in pairs at three smaller archways around the shrine. Anwar climbs the stairs to the small platform with the gong and gestures that you should pass one at a time through the great arch onto the other platform. "Prepare to enter the Chain of Fire. Be very still and brave. Timing is essential."
Amir will move forward, Well...here it goes...
Karethas pulls up short, ”Wait! What are the priests for? And the gong? Is this some sort of test? I’m just saying can we get some sort of explanation about what’s about to happen so we can prepare?”
Anwar looks at Karethas with distaste. "It is part of the ritual. The Burning One must be called to open the way. All fire is one. Surrender to the Chain." As Amir cautiously steps through the arch, the fire-bearded Azer bangs the GONG and a great burning hole opens through the floor before the platform...
Kzrira, not knowing what is beyond the archway, but also not wanting to leave the old man alone, heads through the arch with her bow in one hand.
As Kzrira steps through the arch, Anwar shouts in alarm, "STOP! ONE AT A TIME, FOOL! JANZIR-AL-NAR COMES!"
The stone floor of the temple trembles and a gigantic burning form rises through the floor: a burning worm that rises to the ceiling of the great shrine. It arcs back down toward Amir revealing a head which consists only of a circular maw of cinder black teeth.
Karethas
Kzrira
Varkata
Chain
Kzrira shakes her head.
Hope I do not need the special arrows for this.
With that, Kzrira begins to fire at the fire worm.
Attack-rapid shot:
Damage: <-- 1d6 is cold damage
Attack-rapid shot:
Damage:
Attack-rapid shot:
Damage:
Some of the shots hit, but the damage is questionable at best
Varkata draws Ebon Flame, willing the black fires within the blade to burst free as she steps toward the massive, burning creature and attacks.
for
Amir moves back and pulls his weapons caught off guard by the sudden arrival of the beast. Was this how they were to travel? His companions seemed so sure, Anwar?!
Kzrira ignores the pleas of the Azer priest and begins firing arrows at the great burning worm. The first arrow hits hard enough to stick in the creature, but the others bounce off the molten skin. As does Varkata's sword after she charges ahead to attack. Karethas remains behind the arch, frozen by the wild scene. Amir steps back, uncertain of what is happening.
"IDIOTS! JANZIR-AL-NAR IS THE WAY! YOU'RE-" Anwar stops short as the great worm drops down on Amir and sucks him into its maw! Anwar shouts desperately. The enormous worm's tail rises from the floor next to the creature ending in a burning stinger twice as long as Kzrira. It jabs with blinding speed, piercing her side and injecting burning venom.
Karethas is aghast as Amir disappears into the great worm’s mouth. He cries out to Kzrira and Varakata, ”Get away from that thing! Get on your griffin and stay away!” He turns to Anwar, ”You fool! Why rush us into this? What can be done?”
Hearing Karethas' warning, Kzrira pulls out her figurine, mounts and attempts to get as far away as possible from the snake. As she does so, she feels the venom from the creature suck some of her strength.
What is this thing?
Fort:
Kzrira will mount the griffon and try to get away.