GM Tyranius Tyrant's Grasp (Inactive)

Game Master Tyranius

Vinas slashes across the ooze with his sword as he splits it apart. The ooze releases a sickening, putrid smell as it is injured.

@Vinas- DC 13 Fort save or sickened. This is a poison effect.

The stinking gasses flare as Vanyan's flame splatters across it. Tessenarin aids Vinas as another of his arrows finds turf in the ooze.

Round 2
Aishe (24/28; 3 str dam; 2 wis dam)
Vanyan (27/27; 1 NL; 1 wis dam)
Atium (33/50; Raging 41/58)
Tessenarin (27/27)
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Ooze (Red -8) (Yellow -21)
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Vinas (43/43)

Fort: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29 "Gah! How revolting!"

Round: 2

Aishe tries to focus, and takes another shot at yellow. He prays to Abadar to guide his hand!
Crossbow: 1d20 + 8 - 3 ⇒ (20) + 8 - 3 = 25 (point blank, cover) damage: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 1 = 6 (point blank)
critthreat Crossbow: 1d20 + 8 - 3 ⇒ (13) + 8 - 3 = 18 (point blank, cover) damage: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 4 + 1 = 7 (point blank)

Sadly, I doubt you can crit these. :-(

(Yeah, no doubt, but I'm throwing it up there just in case they're, you know, not oozes.)

Atium sees the slimy things advance. He takes a couple steps forward and tries to put a pounding on the one attacking Vinas.

Power attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
damage: 1d8 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

This is going to be bad for us -isn't it Vinas?

Fort Save if I hit: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11 DC 13 Fort Save or sickened.

Both ooze's shudder as they fall apart into small puddles from the combined attacks against them. After a couple of moments the putrid smell dissipates and Atium gets his stomach contents to stay down.

"well, that was not as bad as I feared. Shall we proceed? Vinas, Atium, would you like to lead the way?"

Vinas takes some time to try and clean himself off. He gives extra attention to his blade. "Yeah. Let's."

With a check of his shield's sit, he pushes forward Can't update map.

Pleased they vanquished this foe so easily, Aishe smiles easily and follows the others to the last place of darkness on the map...

Vanyan waits for others to get ready even as the flame goes out in his palm.

”Well, that was good while it lasted, let’s hope the next fight goes as well,” Vanyan quips, unused to having too many fights where Atium doesn’t bleed everywhere.

He follows others forward.

The path ends at the far side of Deathbower. This wide garden shows clear signs of damage; entire flower beds are rotting and the hedges have gaps and fissures. A wooden gazebo stands at the eastern end, its wood discolored and warped. A wide wrought-iron gate stands to the west, reading "Deathbower" in backward script from this direction. Beneath this archway is a thick iron gate, shut tight.

Mictena stands in the gazebo, her skeletal face a mask of cold fury. "Mijitos, the time has come to accept your fates. For the good of the multiverse, I cannot let you leave this place alive."

Reedreaper steps forward. "Mictena, please. You have to let them go. Can you not see what is happening? Deathbower is rotting all around you. Your obsession is destroying your own realm."

There is a flash of light as Aydie appears beside the shabti. "These mortals are men and women of honor. They are victims of circumstance, not malevolent entities. Please let them go."

Mictena curses in a foreign tongue. "No! They must not be permitted to escape! The Boneyard was built on carefully orchestrated processes that the dead must follow. If I let them go, then everything that the Lady has built here will unravel in an instant!"

You have a single chance to convince Mictena to let you pass peacefully. You gain a +7 circumstance bonus to your check because of Reedreaper and Aydie standing with you.

"Mictena, look around you. What Reedreaper says is true, and is obvious. Things are dying around you. Is this how it should be? Is that what you want in the Boneyard? "
"We are mortals, Micenta. Whatever this shard we have in us is shoudl be allowed to grow and flourish, and we should be allowed like so many other mortals throughout history who have had significant choices, like Aroden, Iomedae, and other less celestial beings, to decide what to do with whatever is within us. History has shown that mortals are often faced with such choices and have been allowed to explore and grow."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21

"Oh honored lord, we are here not at the Lady's call, but rather some other agency. We are not dead, as we would surely be if She called us here. Is that not obvious? Yes, we are 'wrong' here, but we are not dead, and so we should not follow their path. Give us the final stamp, and let us leave this realm - until it is our proper time."

He begs, "Please... let us go."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (20) + 0 = 20 vs DC 10 to aid Tessenarin

“Micenta.” Vanyan makes his best attempt at what he believes to be a respectful bow. He senses this is important, and not the time for snark for once. Their very lives may depend on the next few moments and what happens afterward.

”We have traveled far, and faced many challenges and adversaries. We are not seeking glory or acting out of malice, but a sincere desire just to return home. We all agree we shouldn’t be here – so let us work together and correct this regrettable… mishap.” He hesitates to place any blame or point out any mistakes to be fixed in hasty manners.

”It is not too late to simply let us to go back to our homes, where we came from… and allow us to return to the boneyard once more when it truly is our time, according to the natural order of things. Now is not that time.” In a sincere attempt to flatter her, he adds: ”And just imagine the stories that will be told about your mercy and compassion for the generations to come.”

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1 Diplo to aid

You stupidhead. You bloody stupidhead. You dingusberry on a goblin's ass. Let. Us. Go. Vanyan face accidentally contorts with a sneer.

"My companions speak truly. I'll say this to you as I've said it to the others, my living heart is an open book. If you possess the ability to see the contents and intent there, please do. My friends do speak true.
There is a chance for all to be well here for the good of the Multiverse."

Aiding Tess: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

So we're at 32 before Atium, yes?

Atium Diplomacy Aid Another: 1d20 ⇒ 17

Atium grunts and shows the several wounds on his body. "We fought like hell to make it this far. We are alive and will not be stopped this close to home."

Each and every one of your words of wisdom causes Mictena to hesitate, her face clouded with consternation. It seems your words are having an effect. "No! Your existence goes against everything I stand for. Everything I was created for. I am an agent of creation. I must fulfill my responsibilities, no matter the cost. mistake or not you do not belong here and it must be made right..."

You can attempt another Diplomacy check with the same bonuses.

Vanyan bites his tongue, resisting the urge to argue with Mictena especially since she is wrong about everything.

You’re not an agent of creation if you’re destroying the living. Which we are.
You were created to serve Pharasma’s will, not your own.
To kill us would be pulling us too soon from life, a choice *YOU* do not get to make.

But by staying silent...

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17 Diplomacy to aid Tess (or Vinas if he has bottlecap)

...Vanyan is not jumping on another’s toes, letting them speak freely and forcefully.

"Think about the greater good of the universe, Mictena. Are you so wise and knowledgeable about all things that you can make the final decision about this? And you are an agent of creation. We are not destruction. In fact, maybe this thing we carry inside of us is a seed of creation. Would you not be acting counter to your own purpose if you were to destroy such a thing?"
"and yes, we do not belong in the Boneyard. We belong Home, on Golarian. And that is where we wish to go."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

Aishe continues Tessenarin's pleas, though it feels like the wheels are coming off the wagon.

"Yes, yes, please, I'm praying to you! Look in your heart!"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2 vs DC 10 to aid

I have a plan to name my first born girl after Aydie. I pledged it, and it will not be by your hand that my solemn oath might not go unfulfilled! Stand aside and let us leave this world under the world.
You can keep your own responsibilities and oaths by letting us return to where we came.

Atium puts some force behind his words.
diplomacy: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (12) - 2 = 10 Aid. I just looked and those missing teeth and aging have had an effect.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

"I too am an agent of creation. Is that not how life works? Look about you. It is not too late to return to the path. Not to late to see the garden regrow."

Mictena's demeanor seems a bit indifferent, but yet you hold off her assault for a few more moments as you plead your case. "A seed you say? Seeds also grow weeds in your garden." She nestles one of her dying plants as you notice a look on her. One of realization of what is happening within Deathbower. "Or a beautiful flower."

Mictena looks around, as if seeing the devastation of the garden for the first time. She lets out a heavy sigh. "You're right. This is not the way. I let pride cloud my judgment, and the results were nearly disastrous. I cannot believe I was so wrong in my asssessment of the situation. You may pass, mijitos. I hope this is the right decision." She looks to Reedreaper. "You wish to leave as well, si? You are a free soul. You may do as you please. I hope you find what it is you are looking for, amigo."

The catrina gestures, and the gates exiting Deathbower swing open.

You each earn one bottlecap for successfully talking your way past the Catrina witch to allow you past to the world of the living. A very difficult feat considering the DC.

Vanyan relaxes. His entire body was ready for combat, ready to *die* at the chance to fully live again if they had to sacrifice Aishe or Tess so they could get through, he was willing to take that...but there was to be no combat as Vinas' words rang true.

They influenced the heart of an eternal being...and that is no easy feat.

He glances at Vinas, then at the others to be sure others heard as he did.

He slumps, relaxing even more. He has few words other than those of gratitude.

"Mictena, thank you. I...I wish you and your garden well. I never wish to see it flourish again, but I hope it grows again to bring you joy," Vanyan offers a weak, but sincere smile. "And you, Reedy, you are welcome to come with us and travel with us as long as you see fit. I am unsure what we will find when we return to our home so our path is unclear, but, for your aid, I will guide you to the living lands. Such is my word."

With that, Vanyan begins again to walk to the land of the living.

”Oh praise Abadar!” Aishe cries reflexively, before looking down embarrassed. He quickly adds, ”Praise Pharasma too!” Though he tries, it’s clear it’s not as heartfelt as his prior exclamation, but he tries.

”Ah, thank you for letting us go.”

Aishe quickly follows Vanyan out of the bower, happy to be moving out of that weird garden.

Tessenarin looks more shocked than anyone has seen him before. It takes him a moment to compose himself.

"Not that I believe you care, but I am sure history will show you the wisdom of your decision, Mictena. We thank you for letting us go and aiding us in returning to our world so that we may return to ..... Whatever awaits us."

With that, Tessenarin composes himself again and joins Vanyan and Aishe in leaving the garden.

Atium nods. Seeing that truth and might have made right.
Mictena - I find your garden to be beautiful. I was amazed at it's craftsmanship and hope you can get Deathbower to return to it's full and splendid glory.

He then moves his necklaces around to properly grab and hold up the medallion of Easivra. He shows the Golden Eagle side up. Still talking with Mictena.
The Eagle flies higher than any other bird. It stands for freedom and courage and is associated with truthful principles.
Most importantly to this conversation- the Eagle's eyes are extremely powerful. Able to see with clarity at heights and distances that other creatures can not possibly view.
He gives a tug and the cord of the medallion snaps off his neck.
I choose to no longer tap into the Eagle Chakra as you have shown me that Mictena is more of an eagle than I can and should be. Take this totem as my acknowledgement that you are the ultimate Oro Aguila.
He puts the Easivral totem into Mictena's skeletal hand, walking through the gateway.

"Iomedae rewards keeping the treasure in the pocket." He bows to Mictena. [b]"I am humbled by your ability to change with the information. Replying to Vanyan's nod, he also strides forth.

As you prepare to depart, Reedreaper bows to Mictena. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I hope you will be well in my absence." Mictena nods silently and you exit before she has an opportunity tp change her mind.

Aydie inclines her head as you exit the garden and step back onto the Dead Roads. The air wavers behind you, and when you look back, Deathbower has vanished as suddenly as it appeared.

As the last obstacle fades behind and the Dead Roads continue ahead, a shimmer ripples through the sturdy ground. Cobbles and dust roil and twist together into a tall, thin figure swathed in a patchwork traveling cloak. Beneath the cloak’s hood, the figure’s raven-like head, obsidian feathers, and eyes that gleam like pale marbles are visible. The figure extends a taloned hand, and all at once, details of the journey past—the way stations, the garden, the Boneyard itself—all seem reflected in the mirrorlike surface of the creature’s eyes.

An androgynous voice echoes from within your own chest. "Hail and well met, travelers. Your journey has been a wearying one, but it ends now. I will usher you to the home you seek." The figure extends a hand, and the road seems to slide along quietly underfoot at an effortless pace.

Religion: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

The figure before Vinas exudes a powerful comportment. "Thank you whoever you are. I grow eager for natural sun."

Vinas advances with with the figure.

1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11 Know (Plane/Rel)

Vanyan just looks for the speaker, too shocked to know what to make of it. And he surrenders himself to allow for the passage home. A way forward. A way to live again.

"Thank you whoever you are. I grow eager for natural sun."

“I am the Passage. Your unpleasant fate these past ages has been a failing of my own hospitality, and for that I apologize.” the voice echoes. "A place. A purpose. A servant of Our Lady of Fortunes and Graves. You walk my veins.”

Aishe smiles with more warmth than he feels. He wants to trust this creature, but everyone they've met has had their own agenda.

"Er, thanks for the apology. So you can get us home? What must we do for you to make this happen? I think we're ready to leave as soon as possible."

What? Huh. Walk veins?

"We thank you for your assistance. How did you fail? And what is your purpose?"

"Dying has missed you once, and the understanding of that failure is far more pressing now than an attempt to repeat it. Mictena fears for creation. She is young and feels all the world’s fate upon her shoulders. She has not accepted that the making of destiny is a craft for mortal hands. Your souls are closer to you than they are to me; I cannot answer. That is a fate for you to find."

"I am speeding your journey back to whence you came. Roslar's Coffer on Golarion. Though you may find it much changed from the home you remember." The figure turns to regard Reedreaper. "And I shall guide you to the destination of your choice."

"Osirion," breathes the shabti.

*****

The first beams of sunlight in what seems a lifetime arc from the horizon. The Dead Roads ahead begins to shift out of focus in contrast to the morning sun. The masked figure turns back but pauses. "What has been done to you has never before been done in this creation. I can sense more of these deep wounds in the Boneyard and will seek them out. Perhaps I will send these same confused souls to you. But what you are and why you are I cannot answer. I make this request: learn this thing, that I may know it, too. Safe journeys, travelers. Take these with my blessings."

Each of you finds a cloak of fine raven feathers draped over your shoulders.

They are cloaks of resistance +2.

Reedereaper bows to you. "This is where we part ways. Our time together was brief, but I am grateful to have shared it with you. Perhaps we will meet again."

You are all now Level 5!

Vanyan takes one last look back into the direction of the Dead Roads. They have traveled for so long, and faced so many enemies...but in the end, the eternal beings governing that in-between place were swayed by their pleas for mercy...and the implied promise that they will be worthy of the life that now lies ahead of you. There's much more living yet to be done, he thinks to himself.

Then he turns, facing the Shabti: "Thank you, Reedreaper, for your allegiance and your support. I hope you find what you are looking for. I will never forget what you have done for us."

He's almost moved to tears, though he'd never show it. He knows the road ahead might be grim, and difficult to walk, but he is eager to walk amongst the living once more. He feels strangely buoyed by companions, as their aid over the past days has been of incalculable value.

Aishe follows the speech as best he can, though he knows little of such matters. He knows they've been blessed somehow, and that's enough for him, "We'll try." he says to the creature even has he drapes raven feathers over his shoulders.

He looks to the others, and at the surrounding area. "Are we home?"

Survival: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

Nothing seems familiar to him, and for a moment, he wonders if they were returned at all. Could they still be in the boneyard? Could all this be a trick? His eyes dart to the eyes of the others, looking for the truth.

"My parents felt the weight of the world on their shoulders. I didn't understand it then. I do now. Thank you. I accept this burden as an honor. I hope that I can make the world a better place through my experience."

"Farewell ReedReaper. I hope history is kind to you."

Tessenarin looks at the others "Be prepared for what we might see when we return home. I fear what we might find."

Taking a final look back at the Boneyard you feel stronger and better than you have in some time.

Anybody with injuries or ability damage will find them cured.

Chapter 2: Eulogy for Roslar's Coffer
05 Pharast, 4719 AR

After an entire week traveling the Dead Roads the first beams of morning sunlight warm your faces. You feel renewed and refreshed, as though awakening from a long and peaceful slumber, but the color of the sunlight--an eerie yellowish-green--indicates that something is amiss here.

The sunlight streams in through the dirty windows of a wooden stable. The same stable that Atium worked in several days ago, catching the lovestruck guard and his girl fooling around in. The smell of rotting hay—and strangely, decomposing fish—lingers among a handful of stalls, their wood splintered in many places. Several discarded saddles and harnesses lie scattered beneath broken pegs and shelves. The large double door that would be the livery’s entrance hangs limply on hinges barely affixed to cracked wood.

The succor of return is soured by the stench of decay. The smile melts, and his countenance hardens.

"Maybe there are others. Keep an eye out for the undead. Let's look around."

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21 (Extra +1 for tracks.)

"Wise advice. We should look for survivors and supplies. Aishe and I both could use more ammunition if any is to be found here."

Week of travel, huh?

1d20 + 10 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 10 + 4 + 2 = 28 Spellcraft - rod vs. DC 32
1d20 + 10 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 10 + 4 + 2 = 32 Spellcraft - rod vs. DC 32

On the second day of travel back to the land of the living, Vanyan finally figures out the rod and what powers it has. He chirps happily with this success and will keep the rod for himself unless others need to borrow it.

* * *

Vanyan looks around, bewildered. He's wrinkling his nose at the smell of rotten... seafood? He doesn't recognize this place, but he trusts they truly have returned to the town of his parents. He carefully glances around, trying to gather more clues about his whereabouts and anything of interest in the nearby area.

1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27 Perception

”Are we in the stables? Which stables? Where are we?” He's eager to step outside, but prefers to do so in the safety of the group. ”And what is that smell?”

(Vanyan, I think the DM was referring to the last harrowing week we’ve had. I think travel is nearly instantaneous, but healing somehow. I could be wrong however…)

It’s true, Aishe feels stronger and wiser than he has in days, and his crossbow dances in his hands. For all that, the smell of rotting fish doesn’t bring him down as much as it might do.

”Ah, Oh. Tessenarin is right, I’m down to a quiver, and it’s not full at that. I think I remember this livery though. Had a wheel redone here not too long ago for my wagon. I think we’re home, such as it is. I say we go house to house just in case we’re not alone here. As we likely are alone, it should be quick.”

He'll help search for tracks, aiding Vinas if he can as he keeps his eyes open.
Survival: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16 vs DC 10 to aid

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17

Travel was instantaneous. You spent a week in the Dead Roads trying to figure out what was going on, getting the stamps and avoiding Mictena.

The door opens to reveal a weed-choked yard surrounded by a high fence. Both Aishe and Vanyan spot the danger here--four large, blue, fleshy bulbs are buried in the ground among the tall weeds. They seem to be the source of the stench.

You can avoid them entirely by climbing out or pushing through the splintered rear end of the Stables. Climb or Strength check.

knowledge nature: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

"it would be best if we avoid these things. Let us try to go out the other way."

strength: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

Ack. Ok. The first roll was a spellcraft was for hitting level 5, the second is for tomorrow morning.

”What do you see, Tess?” Vanyan moves over to look out at what is alerting the local.

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26 Know (Nature)

”Weedwhips, huh?” he murmurs. ”We used to have them on my farm, once in a while. Not too tough, as long as you don’t get wrapped up in them. Not too poisonous either, just kinda-sorta.” Vanyan looks sad as if remembering things he’d almost forgot.

”Hey...if we’re back, then my da’s farm must be around here. And their graves too. Hey...hey...Aishe, were did you say the graves were? I’d still...I’d still like to pay my respects. I know we just escaped from the Boneyard, but I plum forgot to ask about them. Heck, they might have still been in line there. Huh, I could have gone and checked, maybe. Or at least asked Thoot about them.” Vanyan snaps his fingers for the missed opportunity. He just didn’t think of it at the time.

”I figure we could take them whips, but probably smarter to keep quiet as we what else might be around. If nothing else, having them guard our front door as we move out the back might be a good thing. Heck, we might need to come back here to hole, who knows?”

He waits for Atium (via GMPC?) or Vinas to open up the back.

Vinas sighs. "This is... not the storybook I had hoped to walk back into." What he lacks in conversation, he makes up for in inner monologue, we've come back to the land of the living only to be surrounded by death. A tragedy and a mystery. I wonder if these men will follow with me to the end of this tale...

STR: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17