"Wow Ms.Quitat, you look like you could use a pedicure." Frackit says as Frackit.
Frackit Let's the hammer loose again seeking to hit the creature.
Paritosh keeps attacking...
Nura strikes again with intent to kill.
Paritosh looks like he hit but does no damage but Nura and Zairiah's blows miss. However Frackit's attack puts Qittat down.
Combat Over
Frackit dispells the Golden Hammer of Divine power and then heads over to pull out his dagger and uses the tip to touch anything.
" What is this?" He asks serious this time having never heard of such a thing?
" Is it a hag?" He'd never seen one of them either. Could be a hag? One with apparently a bad lisp and no sense of humorm
"A ghula, I think, but one of unusual size. I have never seen one this large before," says Fadilah.
" So you ate saying she ate well. As for the Ghula part, I am pretty sure we dont have those in the Dales" He said confidently as he looks to Fadilah.
" Think she has anythinf of value or you know undeelings?"
Let's find out.
Zairiah searches the body.
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GM Rolls
On the body you find 3,000 silver pieces, various perfumes and an interesting flask of oil and a wand.
Fadilah speaks generally to the invisible gen.
"You are free now. It seems your mistress was a ghula and she is now no more."
The gen says, "I owe you. May I stay with you until I get summoned to a new Shai'r or must go back to the Citadel of Ice and Steel?"
The genie with you says, "Shall we continue?"
Zairiah gathers the things from the Ghula's body and places them in the bag of holding.
She responds to the genie and says Yes.
" That was Interesting. Killed a Hag-thing, but now we have another small magical man!" Frackit says as he then strokes his mustache.
"Sounds like a gender reversal in an old fairy tale. Was never one ot remember those tales, though there are numerous....So what wonders will our trek reveal next!" Frackit proclaims excitedly as he scrambles to get back in position.
"Can any of you explain why I was so ineffective in that fight, and how I can correct it for the future? I am no fool. I am not brought here by the gods for my charm, good looks, and great ideas, but rather for my proficiency with the blade. If that has failed me, then I am a lodestone amongst you."
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"Ghula are magical entities. It is possible that through her own nature, or via a spell that she used, that she made herself impervious to mundane weapons," supplies Fadilah.
Paritosh blinks in puzzlement at Fadilah’s words, then glances down at his khopesh.
"Mundane? Is that what you call it? I always thought it was rather handsome... balanced, a good gleam when the sun hits it. Not sure what tribe forges 'mundane' steel, but if this blade is one of theirs, they make fine work!"
The Genie says, "Methinks the mistress may have offended thee by calling your khopesh mundane when a-magical might be more accurate. Tis unfortunate that Great Ghul attacked ye. We shall continue towards the nexus."
The genie then looks up at the sun scrunches his mustache and moves at a somewhat quicker pace.
"Offended? No. Confused? Probably. I'm a simple sand-elf, and we don't have such big words as she uses."
"Honestly, I thought it was because she found you pretty and so her magic doesn't work on smiling heroic idoits"Frackit says with a laugh.
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Paritosh nods.
The genie nods and continues to show you the way to where the Nexus is and he says, "In order to open the nexus you will need to recite the 'Calculus of Magical Regress'"
Fadilah consults her notes and then attempts the mathematical formula.
Fadilah successfully reads the Calculus of
Magical Regress. As soon as
the numbers are read, the PCs sinks into the earth,
falling faster and faster through solid stone and
darkness, until landing in a tunnel filled with a
glowing orange light. The fall inflicts for each
After Zairiah dusts herself off she says Paritosh, what weapons can you use effectively? We have a nice Jambiya made from Qudran steel that no one has claimed. You could use that if you want. It's magical, and might be able to hit things that you couldn't hit with a non-magical weapon.
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The genie says, "I can take ye to the markets and suqs as well as the Sevenfold Mazework but ye must try and find Okous Aga."
You then follow the genie through different passages and stone. The markets of the Great Dismal Delve are a shadowed labyrinth of trade and intrigue, stretching along the jagged cavern walls where bioluminescent fungi and phosphorescent minerals cast a sickly, wavering glow. Narrow, uneven stone pathways wind between rickety wooden stalls, each heaped with bizarre wares. Crates of luminescent moss, vials of thick, black ichor, and jars of wriggling, semi-sentient creatures are displayed alongside mundane items like iron tools or coarse fabrics, a strange mixture of the everyday and the arcane.
A constant drizzle seeps from the cavern ceiling, making the stones slick and reflecting the multicolored lights in a shimmering haze. Stalls are patched together with scavenged planks and tattered tarps, many decorated with glowing sigils to attract the attention of traders and wanderers. The air is thick with a mixture of scents: the earthy tang of wet stone, the acrid bite of sulfur, the metallic smell of ore, and the pungent perfume of rare fungi and exotic spices.
Traders themselves are as diverse as the goods they sell. Some are grizzled miners with soot-streaked faces, others are shadowy figures draped in tattered robes, their eyes glinting unnaturally in the dim light. Haggling is constant, accompanied by the clatter of metal coins, the hiss of magical wares, and occasional guttural cries of creatures for sale. Strange instruments emit haunting tunes, a low hum that seems to resonate from the cavern walls themselves.
Hidden corners of the market cater to less savory trades: shadowy alcoves where cursed relics change hands, tables where forbidden poisons are measured, and tunnels where information is sold as eagerly as goods. The entire place feels alive, almost sentient, as if the Delve itself is watching the dealings, occasionally shifting a loose stone or sending a cold draft through a trader’s cloak.
Despite the gloom and the danger, there’s a certain rhythm to the chaos. Those who know the Delve well can navigate its twisting paths, find rare treasures, and survive its hidden hazards. For the unprepared, the market is a dizzying, disorienting maze where one misstep could lead to a fall—or something far worse lurking in the dark.
"Oh by Garls' Golden Stache! What sort of wondrous place is this!!!"Frackit Says as he looks around with eyes full of wonder and welcome.
Zairiah, after she recovers from the disorientation, attempts to find the Dao trader.
After canvasing the Daoish bazaar you are able to ascertain where his shop/home is located. He lives in a small but comfortable mazework in the outer rings of the Great Dismal Delve, in the first shell of the Sevenfold Mazework. The entire villa is a mass of stairways, balconies, small 9 chambers and portals, wound around one another.
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As you make your way to the address at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance are two chaggrins or soil beasts, are grues from the plane of elemental Earth. It is a disgusting, bipedal, manlike form, appearing much like lumpy, wet clay, with an asymmetrical, vicious face. Its small eyes gleam with feral light.
The bigger one says as you approach,"Effendi, baksheesh!"
We offer them some apricots.
The leader of the two steps forward and says, "Apricots are delicious and very lucky. But we expect 100 Dinars each."
" I dont think we can build 100 Diners? Maybe gather a Hundred Diners?;Not sure what they are asking for??" Frackit says confused at the name but willing to hide the question in a jest
Zairiah thinks it is probably quicker to pay them than to fight them, so she gives them 100 dinars each.
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After giving the chaggrins the 200 gold pieces, the leader says, "Pay attention, and follow me."
It takes you through the stone labyrinth it is bewilderingly difficult to get your bearing with so many quick turns and sharp switchbacks. After about half an hour, you come into the villa of Okous Aba.
Rising from the cavern floor like a natural spire, the merchant house looks less built than grown from the stone itself. Walls of polished basalt and glittering quartz veins twist upward, catching the faint glow of phosphorescent crystals embedded within. No torchlight burns here; instead, the stones themselves radiate a subterranean gleam that reflects off veins of copper, silver, and raw gemstones threaded through the structure.
The entrance arch is hewn from a single slab of jade, carved with sigils that shift faintly as you approach — elemental runes of warding and commerce. A heavy portcullis of black iron lies recessed within the jade arch, but more symbolic than functional: no one dares raid a guild house without earning the eternal enmity of earth elementals.
Inside, the main hall is a broad cavern polished into smooth floors and pillars. The air smells of dust, metal, and a faint ozone tang where magical wards shimmer like heat haze.
Once you walk through the arch, you see a very large dao who says, "...the broker said what, no, no, no, I said to buy shares in titanium alloy not electrum, that stuff is barely suitable for decorations of Dalesian hammers, fix may order and now."
As he says that a messenger genie disappears.
Inside the room are 3 messenger genies left, one miner genies and a crysmal.
The next messenger genie says, "Sir Aba, Some of the marids are complaining that the stone you had sold Zarastro is starting to leak fresh water into the sea. Making the sealife there expire."
Alba nods and then says, "Ballalir al Balur, go back into the archive and get me the documents about that sale, that was what five or six years ago... yes..."
The crysmal shakes its stinger in acknowledgement and goes into the backroom.
"I wonder if they have records of Ea-Nasir's copper."
Okous Aba stands draped in layers of resplendent silks that shimmer like flowing ore, every thread glinting with flecks of gold and silver dust. His skin is the color of polished granite, veins of glittering quartz running beneath the surface, and his eyes gleam like cut emeralds, cold and appraising. Every movement is accompanied by the soft chime of jewels: rings set with flawless gems encircle his thick fingers, bracelets of platinum jingle at his wrists, and a necklace of carved onyx beads rests heavily upon his chest.
He smells faintly of spice, incense, and freshly mined stone, a perfume of both earth and excess. His voice is rich and deliberate, every word weighed like coin upon a scale. But what really catches your eye is his lustrous purple amethyst set in a silver ring that looks way too big for the ring.
Okous Abba finishes his business with all of his guests there before you and says, "By the Loregiver, mortals from Zakhara have come to visit Okous Aba in the Great Dismal Delve, this must be somewhat intriguing."
Zairiah doesn't say anything yet about how Okous cheated Hafiz and stole his mathematical ability, because she is afraid that she will be trapped into a similar bad deal unless she is ultra careful. She needs to learn this sort of trading, but she has become much more humble since she failed (in her own mind at least) to successfully negotiate an offered wish.
Fadilah is the one that is good with genies, so she waits to hear what she will say.
https://paizo.com/campaigns/v5748p75ivjsr/gameplay&page=128#6395
"O learned Okous, there is some word that you are a noteworthy scholar, both pious and studios with sums. Seeing your great wealth here, this seems that it must be true, as surely you have amassed such a fortune through your diligent calculations, with the appropriate tithes to the powers that oversee our Fates."
He listens while scratching his nose with the tip of the ring finger wearing the ostentatious silver ring.
After digesting what Fadilah al-Qadib just said, Okous inclines his head just enough to acknowledge the courtesy, his broad smile rich with the certainty of a man whose wealth is unshakable. His voice rolls like polished stone, smooth and weighty.
"You speak with admirable refinement, O shai'ra, and your words please me as well-cut gems please the eye. Yet let us not pretend my fortune rests solely upon the whisper of the Fates. It is the fruit of labor, of craft, of calculations so subtle that only one of my station might grasp their full measure. Piety has its place, as do the tithes owed to those who watch the turning of our destinies — but the Powers smile upon those who first prove themselves worthy of such favor.
Still, I am ever glad to find one who speaks with both grace and knowledge. Words, too, are a kind of coin, and yours are of a weight I do not dismiss. You have shown respect, and respect, when well-offered, deserves its return. My halls are not closed to those who enter with courtesy. Perhaps you will tell me what wind carries you here, so that I may know how best my wealth and wisdom might serve in answer."
Zairiah, Paritosh, Frackit and Nura