Roland feels something 'grab' him, similar to whatever had deposited him in this weird structure, or whatever it was. The hallway fades to black, then he finds himself in a new room, lit by the strange smokeless torches that he'd seen in the previous place.
Glancing around he sees that he is alone. There is a portculis on one wall, (I'm going to call the top North, etc) a door to the West and two to the south. Currently all is quiet.
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It was a extremely normal day of the life Pharithstilis had settled into, living amongst a grippli tribe on some unknown island that didn’t exist on any map. He was simply picking fruit, guavas, his favorite, when a sparkling blue light appeared above him. Looking up, he watched it, at first, simply amused, but quickly becoming entranced, he could not take his gaze away. He was frozen in place, and in a place deep in the back of his mind, he understood the magic he was under. Slowly, the light descended on him and consumed him... and then all went dark.
The next thing he knew... or the first thing he knew... he was in a room. It had been many years since he had been in ny sort of constructed structure that wasn’t a hut, and it took a moment for his mind to accept the change. But, as a gnome, accepting change came easily, and Pharithstilis actually let out a giggle at the ironic novelty of things long ago familiar, such as walls.
Pharithstilis is a gnome with wild blue hair decorated with sea shells, bones, and feathers. His skin is bronzed from years of tropical sun, and he wears very little save a grass skirt and some very interesting jewelry fashioned from simple natural materials.
He looks about him, and sees there’s a very nice backpack and some weapons laid out in front of him. Across the room, he sees a man seemingly stuck in a beam of golden light. Trying to make sense, he feels his mind slipping a bit. Names and faces of long time friends begin fading from memory, ideas about himself, things he once knew, and, yes, even spells seem to just vanish from his mind. He feels renewed, younger, but at the same time, as if something important, experience, is now missing.
Gathering up the items before him, he waits for this other person and examines his surroundings.
Examining the room and doors Pharithstilis finds little of interest. The portcullis to the north is stuck in place. It would take significantly more strength than you possess to lift it. You see a broken statue of a gargoyle lying on the floor in the hallway that you can see.
You hear nothing at the door to the west. It is a strong wooden door with a simple latch, no lock.
The door to the south east is quiet and has a simple lock on it. The other south door does not have a lock and Pharithstilis hears some very quiet voices and movement behind it. He thinks that he hears a word or two clearly but doesn't recognize the language.
The golden light around the human fades showing a man holding a gun in one hand....
As the absolute darkness is replaced by a bright light, which fades as well, Roland looks around and realizes he is someplace... else. Gone is the female the dwarf and the brash fellow that reminded him of Cuthbert sometimes. At first the gunslinger believes himself to be alone in this room, but then he blinks and realizes he is not.
The tiny person listening to one of the doors is deeply tanned and has a shock of wild blue hair unlike anything he's seen before. The stranger is also dressed in very strange apparel - a skirt crafted of what appears to be grass fronds or the like and wearing ornaments of seashells, bones and feathers.
Placing one hand on the polished grip of his revolver, Roland speaks in a soft, gravelly voice so as not to unduly startle his new companion. "I hope you have some idea of where we are, friend. Or are you as lost in this place as I am?"
When Pharithstilis turns to regard the speaker, he sees a young human with a battered flat-rimmed hat upon his head. His hair is light brown and cut short, and his eyes are a light blue color that is nearly grey. His own clothing is cut in the manner of a traveler - pants of a durable cloth, well-worn boots, v-necked shirt and a heavy leather duster coat that hangs nearly to the floor. A belt with small loops bearing brass cartridges rings his waist twice around and a strange-looking piece of metal with a wooden handle is holstered on his right hip. It is likely a weapon of some kind, for the stranger has his hand upon it, though it doesn't appear to be held in a threatening manner. At least not yet...
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"Oh hey!" Pharithstilis turns with a start and shouts, then immediately winces and puts a finger to his lips. With a jerk of his head he indicates the door behind him. "There's someone or something in that room," he then whispers as he approaches the man and extends a hand.
"The names Pharithstilis Euduethistle, although that's probably hard for you to say, so you can call me Phari. My friends call me Phari..." He becomes lost in thought for a moment as he tries to recall who his friends, their names and faces becoming mere mists in his mind.
He shakes his head and continues, still whispering, "I guess you can say I'm lost too. Actually I have no idea how I got here. Actually, I'm having trouble remembering things at the moment. I uh... You think whoever's behind that door can help us?"
The two introduce themselves to the other. Then Pharithstilis realizes that she can't hear the voices anymore. Perhaps whatever is behind the door heard something?
The room feels strange and again i get the dizzy feeling of movement and then bright light. When I get my bearings, I look around and see Roland.
"Ah, a friendly face. Do you know where we are."
With a quiet flash of light a female dwarf appears. She glances around the room and calls out to Roland by name.
"Lungs...burning...can't...stop...running!" Rafael knew he finally messed with the wrong person. He glanced over his shoulder. Three or four people were still chasing after him, and gaining. "Aww maaan." Pushing through the pain, the edge of his vision started to go white, and he knew this was it. "Well, it was a nice ride." Over the next few seconds, he began to feel weightless, and his sight continued to obscure until it was pure white.
With a flash, Rafael's eyesight comes back and he's no longer barreling down a street, but through a room...and towards a Dwarf. Before he can stop, he...
...slams into the Dwarf, sending himself tumbling over it. Rafael lands on his back with a thud before sliding to a stop on the far side of the room.
"Ooowwww," he groans as he slowly rolls over and pushes himself to all fours. Blinking rapidly a few times to clear his head, he looks around and takes note of the three strangers around him, realizing they aren't the ones who were chasing him. Rafael exhales in relief as he gets his legs under himself and stands upright, brushing off his patchwork clothes.
Rustling his shaggy black hair to get the cobwebs out, he clears his through. "Uh, hi there, everyone. Are we, um...are we friends?"
"That depends on how often you plan on that little trick." Replies Ingra as she picks herself up, her war hammer in hand.
"But, the little one there just asked for quiet, so maybe we should take a moment and listen for what he has heard that has him upset. And before you ask, we don't know where we are either as we also just arrived."
As Pharithstilis is signalling for quiet from the new dwarf a flash of light heralds another person, a human, appearing at a run right over the lady dwarf. Ingra gets knocked back but is able to stay on her feet. Rafael isn't quite so lucky but quickly rolls to his feet.
Pharithstilis is the only one really paying attention to the door and notices it as it starts to open.
Roland is just returning Ingra's words with a smile when a fourth flash of light brings another into the room, that one slams into the stolid dwarf, knocking himself asprawl on the floor, though he nimbly rises to his feet in the next moment.
The gunslinger's pistol is in his hand in the space of a heartbeat, but he only frowns and aims the barrel up toward the ceiling when he realizes that the collision is only an accident of fate. "Whether we are friends is yet to be known. But it appears we are ka-tet..."
When Roland finally notices the door opening, he levels his gun at the goblins. "Hold there. Tell us where we are." He speaks to the creatures if they are not attacking. If they are of obviously hostile intent, the gunslinger opens fire....
Before Rafael can respond, he sees the man across the room draw what he recognizes to be a pistol and point it at a door. Not seeing what's beyond the door, Rafael follows his lead and draws his crossbow and trains it at the door. "Friends for now, I suppose."
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Pharithstilis is momentarily distracted by all the commotion. As the dwarf lady recognizes his caution, he turns to the door just in time to see two goblins poking their heads through.
“Too late!” He shouts as he turns and wiggles his fingers at the door, readying a spell. Roland’s more diplomatic approach has him hold the spell in time enough to see what the goblins do.
Pharithstilis sees that the goblins are charging in with ready weapons and releases his spell.
Saves: Goblin #5 is around the corner. The other 5 all drop.
Initiative:
(+2 for readied attack)
N/A Unconscious
N/A Unconscious
N/A Unconscious
N/A Unconscious
N/A Unconscious
Ingra was moving towards the Goblins, but will pause when Roland speaks.
After the dwarven group it is nice to be with someone with some sense and who thinks before he acts.
Her war hammer is at the ready. Is the remaining goblin willing to talk or does he run or does he still have fight left in him?
Roland aims his pistol at the surviving goblin's head. "Your friends are down, you will want to think very carefully about what you do next. You can tell us what you know of this place, or I can paint the wall behind you with your brains. Your choice."
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Pharithstilis takes a step back and loads his crossbow, all the while uttering arcane words in Sylvan tongue. He stamps his foot and a shimmer of light surrounds him like an eggshell before vanishing.
"They'll only be sleepin' for a moment," he informs the others, "We can get out that door before they wake up." he points to the door on the western wall.
Rafael lets out a snicker as the goblins rush through the door and instantly fall asleep. "That was a pretty good trick!" Seeing that everyone else pretty well has that door covered, he takes a step towards to western door Phari mentioned.
"How long do we got? I have a cool trick, myself, regarding this door here. Until then, though...” Rafael mutters some words and makes small gestures.
The last remaining goblin watches as the others drop, stares at the party members, and turns to run screaming. He takes one step and disappears in a flash of light. There is a small puddle where he used to be....
"If you all can take care of them and give me a minute or two with this door, we'll know if it's safe."
Rafael inspects the door for anything fishy.
"I am not usually the blood thirsty type, but I would think killing them and seeing what is on their bodies would be the best way to go.. I don't want them coming up behind us as we travel through this unknown place and they may just have something useful on them."
Ingra heads over to the bodies, taking her dagger out, along with her holy symbol.
As Ingra moves in on the unconscious bodies, intent stated as well as in her advance, the bodies disappear leaving the scraps of armor and broken weapons laying where the bodies were. Kicking through the mess they apparently had no food, water or coin.
In the center of the room you see an old, dried up fountain with a small gargoyle statue atop it. The room is dusty.
Rafael stays by the west door, concentrating for a minute or two.
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Pharithstilis blinks once, twice, three times as the goblin bodies just vanish.
"Uh... that wasn't part of MY spell," he says, looking around at the others to see if anyone else had cast anything.
As Rafeal seems busy with the other door, Pharithstilis tentatively taps the goblin armor with his foot then moves into the goblin room to have a looksee.
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"Ohhhh... so these goblins were, uh, summoned here," Pharithstilis explains as soon as it dawns on him. "Hey! kinda like us!" His brow then quickly furrows as he wonders if they can be dismissed as easily.
He then takes the time to introduce himself to the dwarf lady, "The name's Pharithstilis Euduethistle, but you can call me Phari."
Rafael places his hand on the door, closes his eyes, and lowers his head. He is motionless aside from his eyes darting around behind his eyelids. Two minutes later, he inhales sharply as his eyes fly open. Slowly exhaling, he looks around to see his new comrades standing where the goblins used to be.
"No luck with that room. It's pitch black and huge. Bigger than I could see, anyway.". He wipes his hand on his pants and walks over to the rest of the party, noticing the pile of Goblin-sized armor. "Huh, weird. Anyway, I suppose it's time I introduce myself." He extends his hand out for a handshake. "I am Rafael Pallion! I heard you are Phari. What can I call you two?"
Roland frowns as the bodies of the... goblins, apparently... fade away. At least he didn't have to waste any bullets, he figures idly. The gunslinger absently nudges their gear with a booted foot, then shakes his head. "Is this to be our fate then, should we fall in this place? Where do you suppose they went? Some other place? To travel between worlds forever?" Roland considers this possibility for a long moment. What if death in this place was a path to the Dark Tower itself? Though if his gear were left behind and he appeared at the door naked as a babe and without his father's gun, what then? And perhaps this strange phenomenon is only shared by the denizens of this place. After all, how else could these creatures survive without food and water? Apparently held prisoner in this strange and unsettling place?
Shaking his head again, the gunslinger turns away and removes one of the smokeless torches from the wall, holding it in his left hand as he regards the newcomers with a steady gaze, then answers in response to Phari and Rafael. "Call me Roland." Then he moves to the dry fountain, examining it closely before turning his attention to the blank walls. A room with no other exits? Or perhaps there was a cleverly concealed door?
Roland reaches up to take the smokeless torch down only to have it go out and crumble to dust in his hand.
Ingra gives a slight bow to the others in the room.
"My name is Ingra Helvolan, second daughter of Grunyar and Bodill of the Clan Helvolan and cleric of Torag. Not a very strong cleric, but I do have some healing that I can help with. And seeing what happens, maybe we will need all of the healing that I can help with. Well met Phari and Rafeal and Sir Roland. I realize this is the first chance I have had to introduce myself to you."
She looks around at the group and takes measure of them thinking that this will be an interesting group to try and stay alive with.
"So gentlemen, what next?"
OOC: Is there anything of use if this pile of leftover goblin garbage? And is there any way to turn the water on or is the fountain long dried up?
Examining the fountain it appears to be long dry, and there is nothing of use in the trash from the goblins.
Giving a nod and a smile to the group, Rafael notices the interest surrounding the fountain. He walks over to it and around to the far side, facing back toward the group.
"Well, my trick with door was for not, so let's try this." He pulls his right sleeve up, revealing an intricate butterfly tattoo on his forearm. He says some words under his breath, makes some small motions with his left hand, then slaps his hand onto the tattoo.
Rafael moves over to the fountain and casts an orison. A flow of water appears and pours 2 gallons of water into the fountain. It pools in the basin. The fountain does not change.
Rafael stares at the fountain for a few moments, waiting for something to happen. With a sigh, he rolls his sleeve down. "Well, I'm all out of ideas. How about we roll a die and see where we go next?". He pulls a pair of dice out of his pocket and holds them up in his palm.
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For a mere flash of a moment when Rafael conjures up water, Pharithstilis is reminded of something... someone... but the more he tries to grasp the memory, the more it slips away. His heart aches at the memory, or the loss of it, but the emotion too is fleeting. All too quickly he is back in the present. He watches the fountain with expectation, but simply shrugs when nothing happens.
“Uh, there are three doors,” he points out the obvious, interested in the outcome of the die.
Ingra looks at the doors.
"How about that one?" She points to the unlocked heavy wooden door on the west wall.
"It is just a suggestion, any door would be fine, I don't really want to try the portcullis yet though."
Rafael rolls the dice between his fingers as he looks at the various doors. "I did look through that door," pointing to the western door, "and it's darker than I could see." He turns to Ingra. "I know you'd be fine seeing in the dark. I could light up a rock or something and toss it in for the rest of us." He holds the dice still. "Maybe we don't need to leave this to chance. Any other ideas?"
Roland watches with distrust as the man causes water to fill the basin. The gunslinger is reminded of another sorcerer, a fellow named Marten. But that thought leads to a memory of his mother, one too painful to consider at the moment.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, Roland approaches the unlocked door. "I have a lantern in my pack, if it's needed. But if we can save the oil, then that would be better. Light your rock wizard, so that we might see what lies beyond." He suggests, one hand holding his pistol and with the other he grasps the door. When the others signal they are ready, the gunslinger opens it, leveling his gun at the darkness.
Pocketing his dice, Rafael starts looking for a suitable stone. "I mean, actually, I'm a cleric, but like, in the loosest defini...it, it doesn't really matter." He kneels down and picks up a stone about five inches across with his right hand. Displaying the tattoo again, he recites a quick prayer, touches the tattoo with his left hand and, immediately, the stone begins to eminate a warm light. It's not enough to blind anyone, but casts a glow throughout a good portion of the room.
Rafael moves to within a few feet of the door and readies the stone. He waits for everyone to be set, then gives the signal.
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Pharithstilis stands at Rafael's heel, his crossbow still loaded. Somewhere in the back of his mind he has the vague sense of being here before, staring down a dark passage, and something very terrible happening, but he shakes it off. He instead let's the excitement of plunging headlong into a mystery overcome this distant dread.
He gives the others a quick nod to let them know he's ready.
The door is opened and a rock (with magic light on it) tossed through. The room is sufficiently lit up for Roland to see, something. Not exactly sure what it is the thing is something out of his childhood nightmares. It isn't much larger than a cat, but looks like a thin leathery humanoid creature with bat-like wings.... It is hard to see features clearly, but he is certain that it has a much larger mouth, with very sharp teeth, than should be on a head that small.
Looking in at the creature Ingra looks at the others, "OK, someone else can choose next time."
Do we see anything else in the room besides the creature?
Seeing the reaction of Roland and Ingra to whatever is in the room, Rafael musters up the courage to take a look. He quickly peeks through the door and sees a creature unknown to him. He pulls back and pauses for a moment, eyes wide either lost in thought or fear. He blinks a few times and his normal smile comes back to his face as he turns to Ingra. "I never got to apologize for crashing into you during my, well, entrance." He places a hand on her shoulder. "I know we worship different gods, but I think Desna can help all of us right now, so I hope you accept her fortune," and his hand glows briefly before passing into Ingra. Rafael then takes a couple steps back, draws and loads his crossbow.