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"Oh, yeah. Sorry. All this ice has me just thinking blue.." stammers JJ.
"I mean like I knew colour, and knew duke, guess I just got them muddled up."
He then cocks an eyebrow. "But if you are offering...." he adds, holding out a hand for the bottle.
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Before using the Pillars you wisely decide to study Fetor's notes. For that matter you set camp once more and dedicate the rest of the day to study the notes and the remaining clues left at Karran-Kural.
The notes are intricately written, but JJ shows a knack to break the code and read between lines on what Fetor might be referring each time. Along the numerous notes, you find information that reinforces many things you already know about the Cagewrights, but you also find new hints that clarify their intentions.
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It seems the Cagewrights are a mysterious cult associated with the prison plane of Carceri. They are said to worship demodands, and may even be led by these foul fiends.
In fact, the Cagewrights were founded by demodands several centuries ago and charged with discovering a way to link the Material Plane with Carceri, providing the demodands with a near-endless source of prisoners and slaves for their needs.
The Cagewrights maintain their secrecy by using lesser cults to do much of their work for them. The Ebon Triad is one such cult, and rumor holds that they often have ties with more established religious orders, especially those associated with magic or oppression.
According to some of the notes they are searching for individuals called the "Shackleborn." Descended from half-demodands, a Shackleborn's soul is believed to possess a unique link between the Material Plane and Carceri. This link is of particular interest to the Cagewrights, for some reason. But the spare number of these souls along history makes it inviable to hope gathering more than one or two at a given human generation.
Apparently the Cagewrights founder, a demodand named Dyr'ryd, come up with a plan to create these special individuals. His thirteen most fecund demodand minions where unleashed upon the region of Cauldron, where the limits between the Material Plane and Carceri where found weaker due to a tremendous explosion with a dream weaver's planar transport device centuries before. For a month, the thirteen demodands ravaged anything they could find until eventually they were slain, but they left in their wake a horrifying number of unnatural pregnancies in the region.
The Cagewrights observed Dyr'ryd plan developed under the shadow over the decades, because although the resulting spawn were mostly stillborn, a few twisted unfortunates survived. As the generations passed, the fiendish corruption grew ever more diluted. Eventually, all visual traces of demodand ancestry faded entirely. But the taint in the blood and soul remained, just as Dyr'ryd envisioned. Every few generations, an indication of this taint surfaces in the form of an invisible birthmark in the shape of an unholy sigil known as the Carcerian Sign. These are the Shackleborn, a perfect balance between the Material Plane and Carceri, patiently bred through 320 years for sacrifice in a planar junction ritual that can serve as the necessary bridge between the two planes to force a portal open.
Following his notes, it seems Fetor Abradius was obsessed with Carceri time before he was recruited into the ranks of the Cagewrights. Since the time he found an ancient statue of a demon prince called Adimarchus, mad dreams had been hunting him. Time later he had to face a vile man named Nulin "Fish" Wiejorn that had been hired to assassinate him. But when the assassin discovered Fetor had an almost supernatural knowledge of Carceri and Adimarchus, he offered to reverse the terms and kill the jealous sorcerer who had put the contract out on his life if he joined the Cagewrights. If he refused Nulin would kill him and collect the pay. Fetor knew a good offer when he heard it and joined the Cagewrights without hesitation as an apprentice to a wizard known as Xokek.
The Cagewrights feared the portal to Carceri might not be stable enough and last. To that end Fetor was charged to find a way to stabilize the portal once it is opened. According to the notes that was the nature of his works in Karran-Kural. Here, by studying the dream weaver magic and technology through the knowledge stored in the Soul Pillars he designed how to complement the ritual of planar junction to make the portal safe. It would seem this knowledge has been recently transferred to his masters and Fetor congratulates himself for his success.
On recent times Fetor remained in Karran-Kural, convinced that the spell weaver lore offers far more potentail power than the Cagewrights initially estimated. Protected by a few of his servants, the necromancer continued to bargain with the dracolich Vittriss Bale for access to the most powerful Soul Pillars by offering him information about the outside world through the scrying ice.
In the last weeks Fetor has made a great effort of documenting the dream weaver devices, an effort that easily provides a knack to anyone trying to use the Soul Pillars for their own plots.
His last entry details his excitement for having found the last required Shakleborn while casually performing scrying of the Demonskar demons for Vittriss Bale. Apparently he let his master Xokek know about this end and the extraction was a success marking the start to the last phase of the Cagewrights operation.
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After the long day of reading and making sense of the notes, you probably feel fatigued, excited and dreadful. You are ready to rest.
For a long time after reading through the notes Marigold is silent, turning over this new wealth of information in her mind. When she does finally speak, her voice is subdued but not entirely without its' usual strength.
"So th-that's the answer, th-then. A d-d-demodand g-got into the f-family line c-centuries ago. That exp-p-plains...well, a l-lot. And n-now I c-carry the Carcerian S-Sign...j-just like the others."
Marigold rubs at her temples, wincing at the dull ache beginning to flare up there.
"I...I'm g-glad I kn-know, now. B-but...I n-need some t-time to p-process this..."
She sighs heavily.
"I j-just want to s-sleep, right n-now. W-wake me when it's my t-turn for w-watch..."
"Don't worry little sister. Rest." says JJ reassuringly.
"I'll take your watch tonight."
He looks around the group, suddenly aware of how many of the Watchers are not really what they seem,
"Marigold has demodand ancerstry, I have celestial, and Kikinnin... that lich said something about a dragon in yours.."
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Kikinnin hears the heart of what makes a Shackleborn, and sees Marigold rubbing at her temples. "Aye, you should get some rest. Just, uh, don't let it trouble your sleep." Kikinnin holds his breath, shoring up his words against the tides of questions he has for her, now that they know her lineage. There will be time for that, later.
Given what they learned in Abradius's papers, Kikinnin debates what questions they can ask the Pillars, if they're able to receive more than an 'Aye' or an 'Nay'. He bids Maxim hold off of using them this time. "If we put questions to the Pillars, we should be cautious of putting you up to them each time. Let me give it a go, while the magics still boost me."
"Are the Cagewrights close to finishing their ritual?"
"Is the whole of the city of Cauldron in danger, if the Cagewrights succeed in tearing the planes?"
"Are the Shackleborn killed during the ritual?"
"Is Dugobras replacing the Cage we took from Iverson?"
Kikinnin pauses to hear what other questions might be coming from his fellow Watchers...
"Marigold has demodand ancestry, I have celestial, and Kikinnin... that lich said something about a dragon in yours.."
Kikinnin looks askance at JJ. He's heard Juraan make the same accusation, using the words of a different dragon. "Let's say that it's true. That my blood isn't pure." Kikinnin pulls off a glove, and shows the back of his scaled hand. "My parents didn't have rough skin like me, as far as I know. Are you calling me a bastard, then? That Pocca wasn't my Far? That Dhorlot had his way with..." The black beard spits, having uttered the words as far as he did. He glowers at JJ, waiting for a reply.
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"No more than my mother had a dalliance with an angel." replies JJ, unphased for once by the dwarf.
"We know that my crossing was likely two generations back. Marigolds was hundreds of years ago. It could well be that yours was hundreds of years back too."
He ponders for a moment. "Or even longer. Both dwarves and dragons are long lived beings. And I'm sure I've heard stories of dragons taking on human form - so who is to say that one of your ancestors was not a dragon in dwarf form? Nobody." he concludes. "And nobody said they weren't married either." he adds finally.
"I still think we should ask about the Red Duke. He might be a string of the Cagewrights that we can tug at. They can't be happy given this is not the first time we have messed up their plans... or their minions."
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Non hesitant Kikinnin walks the icy platform and extends his hands towards the Soul Pillars and starts to recite the words of the ritual as he heard from Maxim. For a minute, for each word he says, you see the figure of a face in the pillar to take life momentarily and perform a gesture. The words of power are precise, and the clear focus of the dwarf takes control of the pillars.
As the ritual advances you can see Kikinnin's skin becoming paler and colder to the touch, while the dwarf starts to hear tortured voices surrounding his mind.
When he starts posing the group's questions Kikinnin hears the responses in his head, imparting the knowledge of the ancient souls trapped here by the dream weavers, and all they have learnt about the Cagewrights through their interactions with the Pillars. Yet for each response, Kikinnin feels the pain of a cruel death under his own skin.
"Are the Cagewrights close to finishing their ritual?" When cages of metal hold souls of pain the prison shall open
"Is the whole of the city of Cauldron in danger, if the Cagewrights succeed in tearing the planes?" Ruin by fire of a city built in a bowl in the Spire’s Shadow
"Are the Shackleborn killed during the ritual?" Heroes shall rise or souls transcend to new heights of mortalship
"Is Dugobras replacing the Cage we took from Iverson?" On the cuspid of its art a crafter many drafts shall make that shall not be remade
"Who would we recognise the Blue Duke as?" When eyes are placed on nothing else than the disguise recognizance is doomed
"Where can we find Alakasts runes?" On the heart of a new crafter of magic shall the answer be found
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When talk turns to the group's varied heritages, Maxim shakes his head and puffs at a stogie;
"As fir me I got rum an' tabac coursin' through these veins. Who knows what that means..."
When JJ mentions the Red Duke again he quickly retrieves his flask from the young warrior's hand;
"Right. No more fir you lad. Yer noggin's addled at the best o' times..."
The gun-mage keeps a concerned eye on his Bror as the warrior channels the fell knowledge.
His brow furrowing further as he mulls the cryptic answers already received;
"Got a question that's been yankin' at my chain: Are the Jester coins minted in Cauldron?"
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As Kikinnin speaks the pillars words, JJ looks disapointed. "Riddles. I've heard the same from a seer at a travelling circus that came to Cauldron a couple of years ago. "
He looks guiltily at Marigold and Kikinnin. "I sneaked into it and listened outside her tent.." he explains.
"Right. No more fir you lad. Yer noggin's addled at the best o' times..."
Kikinnin's pulse slows, as his bror speaks on the boy's noggin. He catches the color of his hand before he slips his glove back on, checking Maxim's skin color, and comparing. That was a rash thing to do. We're no good to the cause, if we're bled dry from black magics...
The black beard begins to mull over the words given them by the dead, and he's uneasy for their cryptic nature. He doesn't immediately begin to chew on them. He gives them time to settle in, so the voices quiet, and his prickle bumps settle down.
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Marigold smiles; even though she's still feeling out of sorts from the revelation of her heritage it seems that even that hasn't been enough to dampen her spirit entirely.
"I'd ex-p-p-pect nothing less, JJ," she chuckles at her brother's admission. "I th-think most of us have sn-sneaked p-peeks of things we sh-shouldn't have, l-listened at conversations not m-meant for us, or t-taken a nip of s-something we had no b-business t-trying."
Except maybe Kikinnin. Starting to think he popped out of the womb just as he is now.
"R-Remind me to t-tell you about h-how G-Gretchen caught m-me t-trying a smoke under my b-bed covers one n-night. I'm l-lucky I didn't s-set myself on f-fire and b-burn the whole p-place down!"
The halfling's expression grows more somber though as Kikinnin takes a step back from the Pillars, clearly worn by his communion with them. She tries to think of other questions they could pose...and then hits on one.
"All this s-sneaking and s-subterfuge...m-maybe we should ask it who our allies r-really are. I kn-know the answer'll p-probably be as conf-f-fusing as the r-rest but it m-might give us an idea of wh-who we can t-trust."
Then, a second thought occurs to her as she recalls what was seen through yesterday's scrying.
"Wh-what about C-Celeste? Wh-where exactly is she b-being held and c-can we rescue her?"
"Or, if the rest of your doubt her, asking whether she wishes us well in our endeavors." suggests JJ.
"I trust her, I can't describe how or why, but deep down, she just feels right."
"Are the Jester coins minted in Cauldron?" Under the ground you call home the coins of the Jester are minted
"Who our allies really are?" In times of dire need put your trust in your faith and the watching eyes that stride your roof, follow the half-elf dwarf and the light of your path
"How can we rescue Celeste?" Following the elder into oblivion a frame you should shatter before the watching eye
"So, break the picture frame to free Celeste. Not that we know where it even is." sighs JJ.
"The half elves... I guess they might be the brothers who turn up from time to time.. often when we are in trouble." he adds.
After their rest, Kythel casts Endure Elements once more upon the entire group.
Kythel shakes his head at the responses, "Perhaps I have not been with you long enough that I do not understand all of the players in this drama yet or I've no head for riddles but I can make no sense out of these answers.
Should we ask about the Church of Pharasma? Is the Church within Cauldron still against us or did your efforts root out those who are heretical in their support of these demodands?"
Maxim frowns at the cryptic riddle on the coins, but nods in agreement at Kythel's notion;
"Savvy Kythel. We'll know then if your kirk is one to trust or to be kept in the dark. We know the Cudgelites are on side, but more divine favour wouldn't go amiss..."
"Th-that answer referenced f-faith...like M-Maxim said, we kn-know Abadar's f-faithful seem to be on our s-side...and I th-think we can t-trust Kristof, t-too."
For Kythel's benefit Marigold adds, "K-Kristof is h-head of S-Sarenrae's church in C-Cauldron. He's h-helped us out once or twice b-before."
"Is the Church of Pharasma within Cauldron still against us or did your efforts root out those who are heretical in their support of these demodands?" Away from reach Embril Aloustinai a Cagewright apprentice is
As he completes the ritual Kikinnin feels the spirits receding back into the dream weaver pillars. His skin is still cold and will need some time to recover.
Your exposure to the strange energies that suffuse the ruins of Karran-Kural and long hours of near masochistic exposure to extreme cold have left your death-tainted flesh highly resistant to cold. You easily resist the damage caused by even extreme or magical cold.
Prerequisites: Tomb-Tainted Soul, Endurance, must have spent at least 1 day in the ruins of Karran-Kural.
Benefit: Treat all cold damage you suffer as nonlethal damage. Your body constantly feels cold and clammy.
Your soul is tainted by the foul touch of undeath.
Prerequisite: Nongood alignment.
Benefit: You are healed by negative energy and harmed by positive energy as if you were an undead creature. This feat gives no other penalties or benefits of the undead type.
This feat is from Libris Mortis: The Book of Undead.
Your spell-like abilities are more powerful.
Prerequisite: Spellcraft 4 ranks, spell-like abilities.
Benefit: Your caster level for your spell-like abilities increases by +4. This can't increase your caster level for spell-like abilities beyond your Hit Dice. However, even if you can't benefit from the full bonus immediately, if you later gain noncaster-level Hit Diceyou maybe able to apply the rest of the bonus.
If you have spellcasting ability from multiple sources (from gained templates or from a character class) you must choose which set of spell-like abilities gain the feat's effect.
This does not affect how often you can use your spell-like abilities in a day. It only increases your caster level, which would help you penetrate spell resistance, increases the duration and damage of some spells, and so on.
Also remember there was the Death Frost Spell Metamagic that was presented with Fetor's spellbook in discussion
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The time it takes for his thoughts to abate, and Kikinnin suddenly starts. "We've seen the Blue Duke before. His true face, the blue face. His half-orc mercenaries... no wonder the city was full of them, as town guards. It was like JJ stated in his scouting report- the Blue Duke is ogre mage, able to come and go with anyone's face. No wonder the Pillars tell us not to look for him with surface glances. We can't trust we'll know, unless we see the blue face again."
Kikinnin turns his thoughts back on the Pillars' assertion on Cauldron. "The city's in danger, then. The demodands are planning their prison break there, so won't care what kind of devastation is wrought to get what they want." The black beard thinks for another moment. "We need to get back, and figure out how we're going to convince the masses to abandon their homes. Death by fire or enslavement if we fail to put the Cagewrights in their place..." Kikinnin's cheeks look quite sunken in, for the brooding.
"So, Maxim and I have taken our chances with the Pillars. Do we have enough knowledge from them, for now? I don't have any other questions, only the dread that comes with knowing that Cauldron is living on borrowed time. I'd like to return as soon as possible. Pillars or Scrying Mirror, do we have anything else or anyone else we'd like to scry? JJ, you saw the Blue Duke's mug. Maybe you want to try and scry him from the Mirror..? Another shot at spying on Vhalantru? Who else?"
"I could try the mirror if you like. " offers JJ, perking up at the chance to use a nifty magical item.
Just like the Spellmason!
"um... how do you use it? Just look and think?
"It'll take a still mind, a strong representation of the face you're tracing. And it'll take about as much time as it took me in the first three passes. Don't be disappointed if the Mirror fails to find your foe. If you're looking for friends, you might have more success. It felt easy to seek out Gemma. I was surprised that Terrem eluded my search..."
In contrast with JJ's eagerness, Marigold shrinks away at the suggestion that any of the rest of them might want to use the Soul Pillars.
"N-no...I c-can't think of anything *I* w-want to ask," she responds firmly. "B-but if we c-can come up with m-more questions, then...I'll t-take a turn. It isn't f-fair to ask you or M-Maxim to be the only ones t-taking the r-risk. We all n-need to share the l-load."
Your way out of Karran-Kural is as awful as it was your way in, but at least the knowledge of the place and directions maintain your heads with a higher morale all the way. Kythel provides the necessary magics for you to breath the water out of the place.
As you emerge out of the sunken tunnels you find yourselves again at the outskirts of the Demonskar. That day you make night at the midst of the jungle, but thanks at JJ's clear dominance of the land you find a good defensible spot and set yourselves in good direction the next day.
At a certain point in your way through the jungle, you find out all the birds are suddenly silent. The monkeys are not shouting anymore. And then, a sudden ambush by a pack of hungry dire tigers falls upon you. The fast reaction of Kythel's and Marigold's magic, and the thunderous shout of Maxim's gun convince them soon that you are not worth pray.
As you climb up Cauldron's slope you find the gate is buzzing with activity. Two half-orcs guard the place and a government representative collects the silver piece coin usual tax for non citizens.
After a night's rest some of you head off to inform St. Cuthbert about your findings while others try to sell the treasures you have "found" in the ancient dream weaver vault and the Demonskar.
Jenya is happy to see you back. She receives you with Ryan at her office "So you say there is a tomb of dream weavers in Karran-Kural... and these Cagewrights were extracting knowledge there for their own plots... These are certainly troubling news"
You are surprised to find an edict on a new tax, as everyone tells you, a 20% on all sales of weapons, armor, magic items and spells. Other everyday products are not affected by this new tax, which maintains most people not concerned "Let adventurers pay" you hear some to say.
"Hmm. Maxim... who do you know who might have the skill to afix the ends of Alakast back onto her?" he asks.
"I know some regular smiths, but this is not regular work. And I'm not sure that a smith is really the best person to work on a staff.. .even the iron ends of one."
Still somewhat taken aback by the news of the taxation and its implications on his coin purse Maxim wearily eyes the staff, then the lad, then back to the staff;
"Ye need a weapon smith lad. Someone whose got both aptitude an' a degree o' flair. Course fellas such as them ain't too common nor cheap..."
He frowns as his words trail off disappointedly, the breaks into a wry chuckle;
"Lucky fir you Surabar them sootbeards aint a patch on my skill... an' I'll be a darn sight cheaper as its you!"
"Well...." smiles JJ
"If you're offering..." with an even larger grin.
"You are after all the best mage I know, and I've never heard a dwarf pass up a chance to show his skill at a craft..."
"P-please, M-Miss Jenya, do you h-have any other n-news about what's g-going on in the c-city? We l-learned a lot of th-things in K-Karran-Kural, many b-bad but s-some h-helpful. B-before we explain m-more, I'd l-like to know what we've m-missed here..."
______________
"20% t-tax? That's a l-lot," Marigold remarks quietly as the group receives word of the newest changes in the city. "I w-wonder if it's j-just a m-money grab or if it's m-meant to k-keep folks f-from arming themselves, b-but in a more s-subtle way than j-just b-banning their s-sale altog-g-gether..."
Neither of those possibilities seem appealing to the halfling.
"Or a way to keep the nobles in line as well. If they are making private armies, then taxing their weapons and armour could slow that down.." notes JJ.
Jenya listens you then she starts updating you on recent events "Since you left Cauldron a week ago the government has been locked in the Town Hall, and it has passed more than two weeks since the last time I could meet and dispatch with Lord Mayor Severen Navalant. I know nothing from him since Lord Vhalantru was tasked with protecting Cauldron from future disasters. Some people say the Mayor has journeyed to the larger city of Sasserine to petition their aid, others say the Last Laugh has assassinated him. The reality is the government has been utterly secretive for the past two weeks, almost anything we know comes from the militia, now mostly dominated by the half-orc mercenaries contracted by a few family of nobles and his commander Zarn Kyass"
Ryan takes then the initiative with a smile "There has been rumors that the merchant Maavu has escaped prison, but the government and half-orcs have attempted to cover it up"
Jenya nods, then adds "Also, it seems Embril Aloustinai, the high priestess of Pharasma, fled the city in shame after what you found out in the Cathedral of Wee Jass"
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"Perhaps then now is a good time for me to make my way to the Church and introduce myself.
Then I can ascertain what help if any those who remain behind may be or if they intend further harm. If I do not return, you shall all have that answer".
"Um...d-do you think it's s-safe to g-go alone? M-maybe you should t-take one of us w-with you..."
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Kikinnin watches as JJ takes to the Scrying Mirror, waiting intently to see which three individuals the boy hones in on. He imagines a good look at the Blue Duke would do them some good, heading back to Cauldron. Perhaps the boy will take a shot at either Terrem, or Ghelve, or Vhalantru... he's not quite sure JJ will have any more success, but he's intent on using the Mirror before they head back. If JJ won't, Kikinnin will step in and try his luck again.
...
With the report begun, the black beard takes in what Jenya has to say regarding her observations on the even darker changes taking over Cauldron. When he hears mention of half-orcs, and commander with a name, Kikinnin might be a little too quick to make the association, but he does, nonetheless. "So this Zarn Kyass is our Blue Duke. And Navalant is either imprisoned or dead, somewhere, if Vhalantru is an asset of the Cagewrights, unless Navalant is also asset." The black beard quiets down, and listens to Marigold bring a full accounting of their travel to Karran Kural.
Kikinnin's main mission is to impress upon Jenya the dire warning imparted by the Soul Pillars, regarding Cauldron's fate, should they fail to thwart the Cagewrights.
"Perhaps then now is a good time for me to make my way to the Church and introduce myself. Then I can ascertain what help if any those who remain behind may be or if they intend further harm. If I do not return, you shall all have that answer."
"If you go, do you have a quick way of getting out of there? I don't know how long it takes to cleanse a church of the recent corruption. You've shown yourself to be a decent ally in our efforts. Would be a disappointment if you failed to return."
Kikinnin takes time in St. Cuthbert to check in on Gemma, and lay out all of their expedition to Karran Kural. Once he's caught her up, Kikinnin then makes his plea. "The Watchers are going to make their plans for what's likely to come, against these Cagewrights. If you're up to it, I'd ask you to figure out places to point the people of Cauldron, should we need to get them out of the caldera. I'd also like to figure out if Malachite is in structural jeopardy if the fires of the volcano come awake."
...
If the black beard senses that the ship is turning slowly in the waters, regarding the level of crisis, Kikinnin takes time to upgrade his equipment, knowing it's only going to get worse. They're getting closer to laying eyes on a Cagewright, and Kikinnin suspects they're going to be a might more powerful than an imprisoned demodand or drac.
He figures Maxim is their go-point, so waits to hear how much time it might take to magic his shield, armor, and/or Eldgammel. If Maxim's dance card is full, Kikinnin takes himself to Skie's, and engages with the merchant to see her current wares.
Maxim listens to the various snippets of news, chiming in his own thoughts;
"I'll be headed down to Malachite to work the forge. First things first tho' I'll best hock our loot around the usual channels - Skie in the first, then per'happing my Uncle if she ain't able to accommodate our wares."
The gun-mage makes his way to Skie's place, seeking to deal with the canny gnome and as well as bring her news of their adventures.
:
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Before leaving the dream weavers ancient tomb you have another session with the Scrying Ice. Two of your targets seem to resist the power of the device, but in the case of Keygan Ghelve an image is projected in the mirrored ice:
Ghelve looks to the infinite in an absentmindedly fashion. It is dark around him, except for the titling light of some torches. As the view slowly opens you spot a large hall from which you can see at least four pillars. The light comes from torches in serpentine sconces at those pillars which flickering casts sinister shadows upon the walls, ceiling, and floor. Some of the pillars are cracked and crumbling, revealing slick black stone beneath the plaster murals. The murals depict masses of writhing snakes and serpent-like humanoids some of you recognize as serpentfolk, also known as yuan-ti, clad in black robes and golden armor.
From a hole in a lateral of the hall appears a man with shaggy black hair, blood-red tattoo patterns on his face, and the spider unholy symbol of Rovagug, one of the three aspects of the Ebon Triad, displays prominently on his shield. He steps up and pushes the eye carried on the hand of a pure blooded serpentfolk priest depicted in a mural on the stone, and this section of stone descends closing the hole and posing like any other pilar. “The evisceration of the gnome will let me know on how the demodand blood impacts the gnome anatomy...” as the man approaches Keygan Ghelve the image lets you see a few bodies laying opened, and you think to recognize a couple of them as adventurers that were looking for work in Cauldron some weeks ago “Dyr’ryd has been clear on this, the gnome has to be attuned for the planar binding ritual Alurad. The more we delay, the more advantage we give to our enemies” you recognize the voice and figure of Xokek who was nearly indistinguishable from the shadows. Suddenly the wizard stares at you directly “We are being watched!” with a few arcane gestures the scrying sensor is dispelled and your vision is lost!
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As you arrive to the Cathedral you find out the place rather empty. The higher ranks of the religion in Cauldron have been rooted out, and the few acolytes and lower rank priests that remain are lost without direction. As you identify yourself the priests look at you asking if you bring orders from the larger church at Sasserine.
You find out there are empty chambers at the Cathedral, and you could claim either Ike Iverson’s or Embril Aloustinai’s chambers as yours without complains from the remaining priests.
“If that omen is true, then you have to thwart the Cagewright plans before they complete their planar ritual, because the caldera has been safe for centuries, aside of the periodic floodings, and people will not easily accept to relocate. Which bring us to the government. If the planning and orders do not come from the Lord Mayor of Cauldron, people is not going to work together. We have to find out Navalant and convince him of what needs to be done” Jenya seems somber and confused “Although I am not sure of what needs to be done. I still have all my hopes on your ability to stop the Cagewrights before it is too late”
Gemma seems to be happy of her time at St. Cuthbert. She says to be learning a lot about the priests and Abadar’s teachings and she has some ideas on how to improve the life at the Malachite by deepening on the productive and trade bonds between the dwarven home and Cauldron “I will see to identify those safe places Kikinnin. I am happy I can finally help you”
Skie Aldersun is happy to see your return… with bags full of coin. The gnome listens your story about Karran-Kural with interest and seems delighted her advices about the dracolich phylactery came to a resounding success of the Watchers. When talk about the taxes comes up Skie extends her hand over Maxim’s arm “You do not have to ask it twice my good friend. Your fight is also mine. I will open my catalog to you at the fair price. Make sure though that rumor does not extend about this fact. I do not want the half-orcs to come to my shop saying I have a debt to the government”
Skie’s catalog
The gnome also agrees to buy all your stuff, using part of your given coin to buy your loot. A lot of jester coins come up from Skie's wallet though.
Once you reach to the Malachite Fortress you are received like a local celebrity. Many dwarves approach to listen your stories of ancient tombs and dead dragons. At the dwarven city, things seem apparently have improved a lot in recent times. The walls have been renewed with new sculpting, people is dressing in rich linen and eating delicatessens not found at caves, and the forge is fully working melting ore from the mines.
Your friend and master Hackbus Wyrdbore enjoys having a drink with you. He seems very excited and it takes you your more advanced charms to convince him to reveal what is his secret until he opens to tell you he is working in something new and revolutionary. As you approach to his workshop the gnome shows you a blueprint full of annotations “I had an inspiration, what if we place a container that revolves with each shot. This way we will be able to shot many more times before having to reload. Will you work with me to craft one?”
JJ’s wandering becomes erratic, not wishing to put any of his contacts in danger. At least he is able to find Alec Tercival has recovered nearly full, their conversations having made a difference. The paladin is now training again in his armor and blade and he is making guards once more at the doors of St. Cuthbert.
During the nights at Cauldron your dreams hunt you down, perhaps a bit more vividly and insistently than before:
You step from the black flame and into a skull chamber of Occiptus. Turning about you witness the final stage of the test completed.
From your Smoking Eye a great fiery plasm roars and flies directly at the black flame and then disappearing within its midst.
“It is done, Saureya” you hear yourself say and turning to face the angel by your side “The Test of the Smoking Eye has been created and the ascension of the next ruler of Occipitus after me assured. Perhaps that shall be you Saureya?” you finish with a laugh.
“You know I would never rule this evil place Adimarchus and I’m hoping you will soon seek redemption and cease ruling it yourself too,” you hear the angel say.
“Perhaps after Graz’zt is destroyed by our army, Saureya” you say in response.
OUR army Adimarchus…OUR army! He is an enemy not an equal or even an ally! the voice erupts in your head, you are a fool Adimarchus.
Ignoring the Inner Demon has proved increasingly easier the longer you spend conversing with the angel Saureya.
“Lord Adimarchus’ a guttural voice interrupts”
“Yes To’lor” you respond in annoyance at being disturbed.
“Our scouts report that Graz’zt’s forces outnumber ours by three to one” To’lor reports with a tinge of fear betrayed in his voice.
“I have never lost against the six-fingered fiend. Have no fear for I could never lose against one such as him” you speak with utmost confidence.
“Come, we must ready the army for tomorrow’s conquest”
Once again you wake up disturbed and covered in sweat.
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Kythel nods to his peers, "I do.
The time has come to align ourselves with the proper path of Wee Jas. You have been misled by those who would seek to use the power of the Lady for their own twisted devices.
Those who believe that Ike Iverson or Embril Aloustinai follow the proper path, I bid you seek them out and join with them. Those who remain tomorrow I shall meet with individually".
Kythel claims the larger chamber and thinks to himself, This seems the perfect opportunity to recruit these Acolytes and Lesser clerics to the cause of aiding this city".
---
The cleric wakes up and shakes off the dream. He prays for the morning and contacts via a Sending, "I believe that I can turn the clergy left here to our cause. Did you have a nightmare again last night?"
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St. Cuthbert's courtyard in the evening is a pleasant change from the icy halls of Karran Kural. Even without his armor, without Eldgammel, Kikinnin takes faith in the walls of the church to protect him, while Maxim bears his gear away to Malachite. He takes in several deep breaths of Cauldron night air, and centers himself, stops the pendulum of wild thoughts from swinging to and fro.
We saw him. JJ managed to connect with Ghelve, and we saw him again. Xokek is having his way, out there. He's allied with someone called Alurad, and we have his face now. Not the first time we heard the name Dyr'ryd, leader of them all. We need more than names. We need places.
The black beard pulls a beard comb from his pocket, and sits himself down on a bench, and begins grooming the length, slowly. For their time away, he knows what a knotty nest his chin hairs have become.
Jenya speaks on Navalant, and what we truly need to mobilize the city. She has steered us true, as much as I can remember. So we have our first lead, now that we're back. A name, and a place. Kikinnin winces as he pulls through a snag. The pain is a welcome one, for its mildness. No smashed ribs, no deep gouges. His facial skin complaining of a little tug is nothing but a mundane reminder of what should come at the end of all this. The small inconveniences of routine life.
When he's done with his grooming, Kikinnin departs from the courtyard, and seeks out Jenya, simply to ask where they might find Navalant. He assumes she'll point them in the direction of the Mayor's Office, but she's been local the whole time, and might know differently.
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On the back of the transactions with Skie, Maxim meets up with the remainder of the group allowing them to each take their share of the loot, as well as procuring him in whatever capacity to craft items and enchant items.
The gun-mage warns that he does not know how long he'll be away from the group, but cites that his own work, as well as the forge work already requested will keep him in the Malachite for at least a week, if not longer.
Upon arrival Maxim allows himself a night of reconnecting with the dwarves folk, telling of their adventures and extolling the virtues of Kikkinin as next Lord Thane of the Malachite to any beards that would listen.
Later with Hackbus, the gun-mage marvels at his old mentor's concept;
"Hell's Teeth that's a weapon an' a half! Course I'll work with ye Ol' timer... Would be a pleasure to work the forge an' tools with you again like in my whiskered youth! We'll start on the morrow..."
After retiring to his chambers, Maxim lays out his tools and the captured Spellbook for his evening studies.
The group of clerics look at each other wondering what they shall do in this moment of confusion.
Whatever their thoughts, the next day 8 acolytes and 3 priests remain at the temple with you and ask you what are the plans to rebuild the faith, and the temple, on thes dire times.
In fact Jenya points you in the same direction you were pointing yourself "He is not in Navalant's Manor, at least as far as I know. The Mayor's Office has been closed for the past two weeks, but officially he is in there"
Hackbus is happy of your reaction and eager to start your common task.
You find good place to focus on your craftings through the week, able to produce the orders you have in mind.
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"Our Faith will be tested.
The citizens of Cauldron will be tested.
A great evil seeks to seize the chaos of this city and bend the fear of the citizenry to its own twisted ends. If we are to convince the citizens of this city that we stand with them, we must stand with them.
We must spread the word that citizens must prepare themselves. The time for idleness has passed. Their ancestors have built this place and they must maintain it, defend it, and if necessary, flee from it.
I know, this may come as a shock but that which we face is an evil that no mere Mortal can stand against with a pitchfork and torch.
We. Not I. Not you", Kythel points to one of the three Priests who seems to be the nominal leader.
"No one man can do this. No one man should. Our Faith must be in Wee Jas, we are to be her instruments through which her will flows.
That is how the Faith will be re-built, by making ourselves selfless to the will of the flock in need in these dire times".
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Maxim sets to the task at hand, after breaking fast each day he sets about working the forge and crafting before a supper and evening study , then slumber to begin the day anew.
It is a monastic and disciplined approach, one that does not come easy to the blonde beard. However he draws upon his Bror's tireless example with a hard smile and shake of his head and lets the sweat of his brow be his reward...
Kikinnin's Shield from +1 to +2 (Rush Job)
Day 1: :
Day 2: :
Kikinnin’s Shield from +2 to +3 (Rush Job)
Day 3: :
Day 4: :
Day 5: :
JJ’s Elvin Chain to +2 (Rush Job)
Day 6: :
Day 7: :
JJ’s Elven Chain from +2 to +3 (Rush Job)
Day 8: :
Day 9: :
Day 10: :
After the first 10 days passes Maxim is able to send back Kikinnin his bulwark and JJ his elven chain. With each he sends a note to the owner...
Greetings Bror. Working hard and living sober down here. Trust you'll find yer skjold to air liking. Kept some of the scars it bears, but its more fortified than before. Speaking' o' sober and fortified. Can you procure me a bottle or tre' o' Sasserine Rum and send it down... Your Bror. M.
Greetings Surabar. Trust this finds ye in good health. Yer Elvin chain came up fine an' pretty in the forge. Reinforced them links with some Malachite mithril - make it a might stronger. Need you to procure me a scroll from the Bluecrater. Spell by the name o' Summon Monster I. Simple enough enchantment, but need it fir the priest's spear. Send it back when you can. Stay out o' trouble! Your Friend - Maxim.
Revolver (DC20, 2000gp raw materials)
Day 11: :
Day 12: :
Kikinnin’s Axe from +2 to +3 (Rush job 6 days)
Day 13: : Lost Day
Day 14: : Lost Day
Day 15: :
Day 16: :
Day 17: :
Day 18: : Lost Day
Day 19: :
Day 20: :
Day 21: :
Alakast from +1 to +2 (Rush Job 3 days)
Day 22: :
Day 23: :
Day 24: :
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JJ goes down to the Bluecrater academy. At least they can look after themselves
"I'm looking to buy a scroll.." he says. "A magic scroll" he emphasizes.
After being shuffled between desks for what seems like an inordinate length of time, he acquires a scroll of Summon monster (I).
Rather than looking for a courier, JJ decides it has been a long time since he visited the dwarven citidel. As such he makes his was to Ghelves, and retraces the steps the group first took, so many months ago.
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Though Marigold does her best to put on a brave and cheery face as she slowly begins making the rounds to see her friends and to check in on Anafa, it's...hard. Not just for the worry she carries on her heart about the city itself but the fear that the enemies they've made are watching. Waiting. Ready to deliver revenge on the innocent or to embroil them in their schemes, to use them as leverage against her and the others.
She can't risk it. Can't risk them.
After her initial check-ins, she stays away. But she also knows that she can't sit idle, not while the others are keeping busy.
If I can't be of use here in the city right now...then maybe I can work some sort of good in Occipitus. Start trying to change it back to the place of beauty and light that it used to be.
And so Marigold returns to Occipitus, though she's thankfully now grown enough in power to be able to shift herself back and forth between it and Cauldron as she wills.
"It'll b-be a s-slow thing, b-but...I want to rest-st-store this p-place. And if I have to b-be here to d-do it, then s-so be it..." she speaks aloud, more to herself than to the proctor that waits to carry out her will - as much as it can, anyway.
Still, even with a goal to strive for and keep her occupied, her dreams continue to be restless...except now she isn't alone in this. When she receives Kythel's sending, she can't help but feel the tiniest bit of relief and thanks that she's got someone to talk to about her continued dreams.
'I did. We know much about the Cagewrights' plan but I still feel like we're missing a piece of the puzzle, somehow.
The priests nods but they seem quite confused "W-what is going to happen? H-how do you know?"
Some others take it that they have to follow what is being said "Pharasma wants for each soul to complete its destiny. If this has been revealed it must be that the destiny of Cauldron is to be saved. We shall bring the word to all the faithful in town"
Maxim works industriously and creatively, making little mistakes in his way forward. Soon his bag is fool of weapons and armors ready for the Cauldron Watchers.
After a week of working, JJ makes his way down to the fortress. Being recognized as one of the heroes that got the Malachite's freedom from Kazmojen's claws, he is well received in and invited to dwarven hospitality.
Back at the plane Marigold is received by the proctor with questions about many decisions that are to be taken. The few remaining inhabitants from Heaven that still survive in the plane have become bolder in recent times upon discovering there is a new ruler in the plane. The fights, once half-forgotten, have intensified and the proctor wants to know how to deal with this topic.
A few days after the group’s reentry into Cauldron, you are contacted by Juraan with urgency “I have an urgent message. My patron needs your help urgently. Please, gather the Watchers and meet me at the Drunken Morkoth Inn. I am moving up there just now”
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When JJ arrives Maxim also meets with him, looking for any news of the City and of his friend Keygen.
:
Overnight he studies the new spell, the upon the morrow begins his labours anew;
Kythel - improving his +1 Spear of Frost, to a +1 Demonbane Spear of Frost (Rush Job - 6 days)
Day 1: :
Day 2: :
Day 3: :
Day 4: :
Day 5: :
Day 6: :
Maxim - +1 Double Barreled Pistol to +2 Double Barreled Pistol DC16 (Rush Job)
Day 7: :
Day 8: :
Day 9: :
Maxim - +1 Mithril Shirt to +2 Mithril Shirt (Rush Job)
Day 10: :
Day 11: :
Maxim - improving Revolver to MW (spell), then enchanting it to +1. Rush Job (1 Day)
Day 12: :
"Visions sent to me by the Lady and investigations to the Planes have led me to this conclusion. I wish I could be more specific but at this time I cannot. Forewarned is forearmed.
Yes, spread the word, let them know that their destinies are in their own hands but that idle hands are destined to have their fate dictated to them.
I will need all of you that can craft, to begin crafting. Scrolls, potions, wands of healing and restoration as well as the curing of disease. Having these things on hand will be good. Without them, we will be ill prepared for what is to come. If we cannot make them, seek out friends with the skills to do so. If we have none, let us purchase them for our stocks should the faithful need them".
---
Kythel casts Sending once again, "Agreed. Should we meet with all of the Watchers and discuss these dreams or wait until our next gathering to do so?"
---
Kythel arrives in similar robes of station but better in quality than the last time the group saw him. Kythel also has with him in tow, a young Acolyte of Wee Jas. He bids the Acolyte sit at the bar of the Inn while he takes a saet at the table with the Watchers. Kythel nods in greetings to his allies but does not initiate small talk.
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"He is not in Navalant's Manor, at least as far as I know. The Mayor's Office has been closed for the past two weeks, but officially he is in there."
"Two weeks, you say? That's plenty of time for a trail to grow cold. But it's a start. Revered Jenya, I have no doubt of Cauldron's burning, if we fail to stop the Cagewrights. The dead spoke, and I have no reason to believe they answered with the purpose to deceive." The black beard pauses, a slight look that mixes grief and longing crosses his face.
"There is knowledge there, in those Pillars. It drove Fetor Abradius mad. But between the Scrying Mirror, and the Pillars, one might be able to learn more." A quick glimpse at his paler forearm, and Kikinnin speaks a final thought. "If the need is dire, call up us Watchers, and we'll return to pull more intelligence from them. But only if the need is truly dire."
Kikinnin does his best to bow respectfully before excusing himself. It is coming more easily to him, this interaction with those in authority. With those who rightfully deserve the office...
...
"I have an urgent message. My patron needs your help urgently. Please, gather the Watchers and meet me at the Drunken Morkoth Inn. I am moving up there just now.”
Of course you do. When Maxim's got my goods... alright, then...
Kikinnin doesn't delay in traveling to the Drunken Morkoth, though he's a turtle deprived of his shell, an eagle deprived of his beak. He takes the edge off his discomfort with a dark draught, locating Juraan, and taking a seat at the table. The dwarf is much quieter for his lack of armor. He sports a plain tunic, with his belt, throwing axe tucked behind it.
"You called, and we answered. Feels like the last time we got pulled into a public place like this, we were ambushed, Juraan. I suggest you get on with it, patron or no."
...
"Greetings Bror. Working hard and living sober down here. Trust you'll find yer skjold to air liking. Kept some of the scars it bears, but its more fortified than before. Speaking' o' sober and fortified. Can you procure me a bottle or tre' o' Sasserine Rum and send it down... Your Bror. M."
A small cask finds its way to the Malachite Forge, either by the boy, or by Gemma, or possibly another runner. It's obvious that the cask itself has been split in two, and hinged and clasped to serve as a small piece of wooden luggage.
Opening it requires a single flick of a finger, revealing the contents to be three bottles of Sasserine Rum, individually wrapped in cloth. In addition, a small leather case contains two tightly-rolled cigars with a sheen, and dark leaf color. The scent of cedar and white pepper hits the nostrils almost immediately.
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Ten days of mooching around Cauldron leaves JJ with time on his hands. Perhaps too much time.
There are only so many ways in which a young man can occupy himself. Walking the streets. Lunch, liquid lunch. A bit of staff practice. Checking in on his uncle. A bar. The bathhouse.
Each place has memories. Especially the bathhouse.
JJ even spends an afternoon at the Bluecrater, delving even further into demonic lore, and some of the Really Old(tm) books that nobody has opened in years.
Perhaps it is that which leads him astray. But soon he finds himself falling into old habits, watching shops, checking out exit routes, and then stopping himself just before an apple or sweetmeat relocates itself into his pockets.
You're not a street urchin any more JJ. You are a man of wealth. You can do better than this. - He can almost hear Alek's words, although he is sure any words spoken in the flesh would be sterner than those.
Kicking a pebble down the road, he hangs around in the shadier streets, almost looking forward to the idea of someone trying something on him.
The priests and acolytes nod and take the coin, they obediently look for the materials required to start producing healing materials for the city.
Jenya Urikas and Ryan Taskerhill receive you with interest. Knowing you already from your earlier visit, they are willing to give you support to rebuild the faith in Pharasma in Cauldron upon a non-heretical leadership.
The High Priest of Gorum in Cauldron is a half-orc cleric called Asfelkir Hranleurt. He is attended by a hand of clerics and a few acolytes. Asfelkir is interested to collaborate on the promotion of sportive events and demonstrations of fighting prowess. He is willing to perform fighting training between the two churches.
Kristof Jurgensen is the only cleric tending the needs of Sarenrae's faithfuls at Cauldron. The man receives you with reprove and skepticism "I know you killed my three superiors because they were putting their nostrils in your dark business. And you raised that tower in your chathedral in purpose to stop the sun from touching our church. Whom dares to block the light from the Cathedral of the goddess of the Sun?"
Once reunited at the Drunken Morkoth Inn you take a time to discuss your last days and your way forward. By then, a nervous Juraan descends from the upper floor and sits among you "A dwarf friend of mine, Tyro Amberhelm, is in dire need. I would like you to meet him and judge if you can help"
Assuming you all accept, you make your way upstairs with Juraan, only leaving Kythel's acolyte downstairs to let you know if there are problems. Opening one of the inn's rooms you are greeted by a stern dwarf behind a desk. By his side there is Fellian Shard and Shensen Tesseril. The room is a cozy, well-appointed chamber with a bed in addition to the desk, and walls hung with mounted hunting trophies. Tyro Amberhelm wears a rich vest and a golden circlet sits in a padded leather chair facing the door, his hands clasped tightly under his chin in a contemplative manner.
"Welcome friends. Now that we are alone, there is no reason to maintain the cover" the dwarf removes his headband and all of a sudden his appearance suddenly changes revealing his true form, that of a cloaked, 45-year-old half-elf with hazel eyes and a small butterfly tattoo under his right eye and the headband is in fact a hat of disguise "My real name is Meerthan Eliothlorn. I am sorry for the deceit, but as leader of the Striders of Fharlanghn I have to take extra steps to protect myself. We devote ourselves to protect those who must travel the wildlands of frontier lands as Cauldron, while at the same time ensuring that evil does not gain a foothold in the far corners of the world. We patrol the places no one else dares, and keep safe the remote paths and roadways of the frontier. Juraan became a Strider a while ago before you descended into the Darklands. He kept me informed of all your steps in real-time, but do not blame him for this intrigue, as this allowed us to send help when it was more direly needed. Fario and Fellian kept an eye from Cauldron roofs since the day of your first encounter with the Last Laugh. Time has given us reason to protect you, as you have grown into a force to behold in recent times"
"We have kept our help coming from the shadows, even without you noticing sometimes. That said, it is now us who need your help, if you are open to at least listen my plea..." the half-elf looks at you with a clearly worried look.
Meerthan looks truthful in his statements.
You do recognize the butterfly as the holy symbol of Desna, Goddess of the North Star, the divinity of Dreams, Luck, Stars and Travelers.