Volcano's Land - A New Beginning

Game Master Miner Cotren

After several minutes, you finally make it to the top, or at least as close to the top as citizens are allowed; the Embern Apartments are accessible by invitation only, and barred by a group of frowning guards. Walking towards the edge of the second-highest tier, Eo grins and gestures toward the view. "And...ecco!"

The southern vista of Hearth opens up in front of you. Almost directly beneath you, River flows out of the city, spanned by long bridges every mile or so. Steam from River hangs low and moves sluggishly, obscuring acres of buildings from sight. The constant motion of the mist seems to create fanciful illusions of dancing figures and battling armies. The brown-yellow temple-roads radiate from the Temple in all directions, spreading the grasping fingers of the clergy far and wide.

To your left, rows of squat and ramshackle homes and shops huddle around the steam, as if gathering warmth from it. In marked contrast, to your right you see stately obsidian houses rise proudly, each surrounded by walls, fences, or hedges. Farther out, the tents and stalls of the Marketplace shrink and disappear in the distance, stopping at the tall stone walls that surround the city.

And everywhere, flickering lights. Torches. Ovens. Hearths. It seems that every ifrit in the city is using Volcano's gift of fire, worshiping Him in action if not in words. A cold wind gusts, and a thousand fires flare in response, as if they are part of a living thing, shuddering in the chill morning air.

Limping in the cold, windless morning light, he shows you to the northwest corner of the Great Temple. In the shadow of the Temple is a long, three-story building made of large, perfectly-cut granite blocks. The insignia of the Temple Guard, a pyramid vertically pierced by a flaming sword, graces the tall double-doors.

"Were you just sight-seein', son, or did you want to go in and make some friends? These ain't the friendliest men in the land, truth be told, but I'm not one to tell an elen what to do. Credi agli anni, as they say." (take or leave the advice)

In response to your query, one guard, seemingly younger than the others, half-smiles for a moment. "We are not paid to smile, signora. We are paid to intimidate those foolish enough the think of bring harm to the Ember. Suffice it to say I at least enjoy the view, and thank Volcano for it."

let me know if you want to talk with Eo or the guard a bit more here, or move on to another place in the Temple.

As his fifth or sixth story winds down, he cocks his head to the side. "You asked somethin', didn't yeh? Oh, market's not too far now. Really depends on which part you want to get to. Closest is the spices, perfumes, that kind of fancy stuff. Can't have it too far away from the mansion-folk or they wouldn't get any business, see?"

Eo grins, and holds out his arm for you once more. "I've got just the thing. Let's head back to the ground floor - we should be just in time for the eleventh candle worship in the public sanctuary. Thousands of elen voices raised in praise of Volcano... He shakes his head, at a loss for words.

As you descend, an undine inquisitor ascends past you. At first glance, you mistake him for So Khong, but his skin tone is a much lighter blue, and he wears large glasses that distort his eyes to grotesque proportions. He smiles, showing far too many teeth, but says nothing as he leaves you behind and approaches the Embern Apartments.

As Vecc promised, your noses are assaulted by a hundred different smells, none of which whet your appetite. Every fifty yards, a new miasma of scents hangs in the cold, still morning. Overly sweet perfumes collide with peppery smoke; body odor competes with styling oils; and ashy incense combines with eye-watering spices. The languages of all four races skip, dance, and stomp across the pungent air.

Vecc hardly seems to notice. Do the elderly become hard of smelling? "Lemme know if there's anythin' catches your fancy, otherwise there's a cozy little spot not too far from here for a bite to eat and a place to sit. Glassblowers'll be right around the corner after that."

He seems to lose the thread of his second story, rambling for a few minutes and drops it entirely as he suddenly points across the crowded street. "Ah, here we are! Alfredo's!" There is an odd implement--what appears to be a pitchfork--hanging above the entrance to the small restaurant. The building, crammed between a moneylender's and a tailor's, glows with fresh daisy-yellow paint. Two round windows flank the rough wooden door.

The low-ceilinged restaurant contains far too many tables and chairs, and navigating through them is a tricky proposition. Vecc takes his time, patting elens on the back and giving effusive apologies when he accidentally bumps into them. Near the back, he finds a table with four chairs. Borrowing a fifth chair from an adjacent table without asking, he sits down with a grunt. A dozen low conversations swim around you, and the artificial smells of perfume and incense are replaced with the more natural scents of cooking meat and vegetables.

Vecc rubs his right leg. "Nothing like some pain to make you appreciate the absence of it, eh? Don't drink the water here. Get the beer instead."

The vast room hardly seems man-made - the echoing acoustics and unfathomable size are unearthly. You see a colossal pipe organ set into the far wall, several large drums flanking the chamber, and the supreme altar front and center, adorned only with a red triangle. Other details are obscured by distance and the crowd.

Without warning, the pipe organ and drums begin a slow, pounding rhythm. An instant later, a thousand voices fill the air with bass, tenor, and soprano joy. Complex, layered chords linger and bounce off the walls as one and all sing their praise to Volcano and lend the strength of their faith to the constant battle against the Dark. Indeed, the candles and torches that line the walls and surround the columns seem that much brighter in response to the exaltations. Your ears are overwhelmed; it is a sound that is felt, not heard.

Time loses meaning as a procession of priests go through a multitude of rituals, including food offerings, sanctified prayers, and animal sacrifices. These are all punctuated with more music and singing.

When the worship is over, you are suddenly outside. Your ears are ringing, and it takes you a moment to catch your breath at the abrupt transition from the hot, crowded room to the cold day outside.

Vecc raises his eyebrows at Ibinu. "Generous, eh? Well, you've been humoring an old elen, at least doing a good job of pretending to listen, maybe even listening for real. Least I can do is pay for lunch." He takes a handful of silver from your pouch (let's say one gold) and winks. "You can cover the tip though. Who knows? Pretty young server, maybe she'll throw a smile my way. Worse ways to spend money, eh?"

A few minutes later, a steaming bowl of peppery pogona soup is placed in front of each of you, along with a tall glass of brown beer. The soup is hearty, and the bland meat is made up for by the spices and plethora of vegetables. The beer is remarkably good, especially considering Vecc's comment on its cheapness.

Inside, stretching across the entire length of the temple are row upon row of long tables made of rough wood. The refectory is silent, save for the occasional dull clatter of a plate. The only food in sight is piles of ash-bread. The smell of the bread is nearly overwhelming, and you suddenly realize how hungry you are.

Taking a seat near the entrance, Eo bows his head in silent prayer for a few minutes before breaking bread. You catch a few glances and friendly nods in your direction, but no one seems to take particular note of you.

From the second tier, he takes you back to the ground floor, around to the northern side, opposite the main staircase. Still outside, the young elen stops at a featureless shallow alcove, reaches under his shirt for his necklace, and presses the red triangle of Volcano against the wall. A door silently, seamlessly glides to the left, revealing a narrow staircase going down. The door slides back into place only a few seconds after you begin your descent.

Voice echoing, Eo explains the structure of the Temple. "I don't know all the parts, but there's a whole other Temple below ground, except, you know, upside-down. First floor down is where these minor heretics are. I guess the guys who did worse things, like murder, would be farther down, but the embezzlers and thieves are all Inquisitor So Khong has shown me. I guess he would probably say they're evil, since they interfered with Volcano's work."

At the end of the staircase, there is a thick iron door. Eo reaches up to knock, but the door squeals open on unoiled hinges. "Weird, never seen the guard forget to close it before." Opening the door a little more, he calls out, "Hello?"

A second later, you hear the girl's squeal of surprise as someone else grabs the girl from behind you. A second ifrit, tall and skinny as a sylph, dashes toward a nearby window with a wild look in his eye.

Pretty much in combat at this point, so everyone roll initiative and declare Round 1 actions. Ibinu, you are close enough to charge the tall, skinny ifrit. Kallik, if you make a move toward the tall, skinny ifrit, the scowling ifrit will get an AoO on you. I'll have a map up tomorrow - hopefully that will be enough info to go on for now.

The thing slashes at you with a tentacle mid-leap, cutting you across the cheek (3 damage, Fort Save DC 13 vs poison; fail = 1 str damage)

Combat, roll init and declare Round 1 Action. This thing registers as Evil.

Eo looks at you with wide eyes. "Mio Vulco! Your face! Uh, it's okay! Just, uh...!" Before you can react, Eo grabs you by the head. You feel a curious, warm sensation, and then hear Eo spitting and retching. You realize he just sucked out the burning poison. From your face.

Fort save DC 13, but take a +2 circumstance bonus for face-sucking

There is no sound coming from the open door.

Combat Suspended

Unknowingly, Kallik, Ibinu, and Brinn all have the exact same idea and nearly the same time. Kallik swings low with her guisarme, but the ifrit hops over it; taking advantage, Ibinu knocks him slightly off-balance with a gust of wind; which distracts him just enough for the butt of Brinn's spear to catch his foot and bring him tumbling down. He loses his grip on the girl, who rolls away and hides under a table.

The undine smiles. "I swear I'll remember which end to use one of these days..."

Kallik, the scowling ifrit stabbed you in the back as you ran toward the elen with the girl. (5 damage)

By now, enough weapons have been swung to draw some attention. Elen nearby are running away, or at least watching from a safe distance. The scowling ifrit is nowhere to be seen. The tall ifrit is groaning on the ground at your feet. The sylph girl is hiding under a nearby table.

Round 2 - declare actions.

"Umm, I've never seen one up close, but Inquisitor So Khong has shown my enough drawings. That's," he takes a deep breath, "a darkspawn. Seems like a pretty weak one, but still..." He shakes his head in disbelief.

You do not see or hear anything to indicate more enemies in the area. The only thing you do see beyond the door is a single, guttering candle on the floor, out of the range of your darkvision. You think there is an elen's body next to it, unconscious or dead, but the candle's weak illumination plays tricks on your eyes.

Agreed that there is no mention of an obvious gesture or need to yell WIND ATTACK! The crowd was distracted enough to ignore Kallik yelling for help, so no one notices Ibinu's involvement.

Voice strangled under the pressure of Kallik's blade, the tall ifrit chokes out, "Merda! Merda!" His eyes, wide with fear, scan the room as best he can, with an angry oread looming over him. "Non lo so! Non lo so!" Though Kallik does not speak Ifrit, the way he is frantically shaking his head makes it clear - he does not know where his companion is.

In the silence that follows Eo's departure, it is difficult to say how much time passes. The candle on the floor flickers, making spidery shadows dance across the walls and columns of the hallway. The weak light finally gutters out, leaving you alone with your darkvision.

Slowly, a...presence, invisible to the eye, invades the room. The cold room becomes, by degrees, freezing. Something just beyond the edge of your vision seems to be pressing into your mind...

Will save DC 14 vs fear, otherwise become shaken

AoO if you want it. Being prone, he is at an effective 10 AC right now.

A hissing sound, like tortured water quenching an angry piece of hot metal in the forge, erupts from all sides. It has a strange quality, as if you are hearing it with your ears and your mind.

"SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS"

Another DC 14 Will Save, this time vs Frightened. Etram, unshaken, comforts you, so don't count the shaken condition for this roll.

As the manic ifrit awkwardly tries to rise, Kallik puts him down, hard. Her blade jabs through the meat of his left thigh, and pins him to the floor. He gives a high-pitched shriek, and passes out. The wound is bleeding profusely.

Brinn's voice, jarringly jovial amidst the sight of blood, rings out. "I'll have to put this to a song later - bravery for saving the girl," he indicates the young sylph with a sweep of his arm, "but on top of that, benevolent mercy for the man who would kidnap her - why, he's hardly even dead!" Pulling out his flute, Brinn plays an upbeat tune that seems to freeze the blood coming out of the ifrit's leg, preventing any more from leaking out.

Brinn succeeded in a general diplomacy check to improve the attitude of the room, so they are now slightly confused rather than angry at the outburst.

In the quiet moment that follows, one sound can be heard - a faint snoring coming from your table.