SFS 1-03: Yesteryear's Truth (Inactive)

Game Master Z...D...

"That is one way of putting it, yes. There is much beyond your sky and much we can show and share with you, if you are willing," Azara says.

He looks at the two different type of Ghibrani. "We welcome the diverse. As you can see from myself and my companions, we aren't even of the same species and my kind, in particular have two very different body structures that are common. What a person looks like is of little import when compared to what they act like."

He looks up at the sky as though he can see the space station that kicked the ever loving crud out of their ship before they escaped it. He's not looking forward to the return trip.

"No doubt that is just where it came from. Do you have any ideas about how we could shut it off? It's very dangerous and we'll never be able to set up an exchange of knowledge and goods with your people if we have to deal with that thing every time we come around. Especially fi there are more."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22

Hish serves mostly as a translator for everyone else; that takes up the majority of their focus.

"Do we have a recording of the broadcast from the station? Maybe these people can understand it."

"Hish seemed to think it said, 'Get off my lawn.'"

That was the general idea, at least, Hish chimes in dryly. They fall “silent” immediately, though, as they have to keep replaying the Ghibrani’s words.

"I do not know of anything that we would have put in the sky. It must be a relic of the great war or at least of that time." Klarima says as she adjust one of her bandages. "Maybe one of the Most Elevated in the city know of it."

"Ooo. Ask if we can visit the city and talk with a Most Elevated."

Azara smiles as Ears makes a suggestion just before he is going to do just what was suggested.

"Your hospitality and information are both much appreciated. We do not want to impose. Is it possible for us to speak to The Most Elevated? Can you tell us how to find them?" Azara asks

"Ask if there's anything else we can do for them."

Gwin, to his fellow Starfinders: "Perhaps ask about her wounds and if we might aid in healing her?"

"Is there anything we can do to help you? We have some resources. Does anyone need healing?" Azara asks, taking the advice of his fellow Starfinders.

I can probably arrange a meeting with the most elevated.

Azara translates for the other two.

“Those in my city rarely leave it; our ancestors made sure we would be provided with everything we would need. However, I have been afflicted with a case of wanderlust. A near terminal case, it would seem, as my explorations outside the city found me stumbling into a tangle of soarnettles. They scratched me quite a bit and thanks to the pain, I lost my way. Luckily for me, I crossed paths with these kind husks, who bandaged my wounds and gave me a place to spend the night. I do not require any additional care. The husk are quite proficient in treating these type of wounds."

"I will proprose an exchange. You escort me back to the city, I will get you past the forcefield and into the city."

Sounds like a reasonable deal to me, Hish comments privately to their fellow Starfinders. We can ask her en route if there's anything we should know about these 'most elevated' before we meet them, local customs or the like.

"Remarkably trusting of her."
Ears leans left and looks to the right. "Hi, we're aliens." Then he leans right and looks to the left. "Oh, hello. Won't you walk me home and I will take you to my leader."

"It's working for us though."

"We have honest faces. Sensory clusters." Patterson waves his hand around his head vaguely.

Azara cocks his head to the side thoughtfully. "Interesting. I didn't realize that you didn't live here. I assumed you were simply two different types of the same species who appeared differently for some reason we had not discovered yet. But it seems that you are two races of the same species separated, somehow."

"If these are Husks, what are your kind called?"

He shakes his head then as though banishing useless thoughts. "But you can explain more on the way. We agree. We'll help you get back home and you help us get into the city and meet with The Most Elevated."

He sends a message to Ears, telepathically.

"Perhaps there are no other sentient species on this planet and they are a fairly cooperative race. We only don't trust people because we know that people can be terrible. If you've never run into a terrible person then you assume any person you meet is trustworthy. Hopefully, we won't be the ones to teach her the way the rest of the universe works."

"Well we are all called Ghibrani. The husk, who live outside of the city, call us Membranes. We live in the city of Arkeost."

"Very well", She nods to the husk's standing behind her. The one called Dystane steps forward and holds up a unique rifle and another comes forward with three vials of dark liquid, that smells of black licorice. "It is a gift from the Husk. This is rifle that is used both in ritual and hunting. The vials contain a serum with restorative properties."

The rifle is called a huchket. It is a 3rd-level, projectile longarm ranged weapon that deals 1d10 piercing damage and has the wound critical hit effect. It has a range of 80 feet and holds 6 rounds. It has the analog special property and 1 bulk. The liquid acts as serum of healing mk 1.

On the way to the city, she divulges some of the history of the Ghibrani.

"Many generations ago, there was great war between the nation-states. The invisible fire they rained down upon one another killed most living things across the globe. It was only thanks to the foresight of our ancestors that any of us survived to see today. After the war, a faction of my people received protection from a divine power named Mother Touloo. They struck out into the wastelands at their deity’s behest. In doing so, they eventually lost the use of their wings. These Ghibani became the ‘husks'. Those of us who retained the power of flight are known as ‘membranes’."

Klarima leads the PCs through the badlands toward the shining metropolis in the distance. The journey takes only a few hours, allowing any share language spells to remain in effect. Elytrio’s sun is beginning to set as they approach the edge of a visible force field half a mile outside of the city. Klarima retrieves a clunky and ancient-looking datapad from her pack and presses a few buttons on it. There is a brief pause when nothing happens and, a little frustrated, she touches the same sequence of buttons on the device. This time, a circular portion of the force field opens like a door. Klarima steps through and gestures for the PCs to follow. When all the PCs have passed through, Klarima presses another button on her datapad and the force field closes again.

This strange metropolis sparkles like a jewel in the gloom of dusk. In stark contrast to the desolation surrounding it, the city is a bustling center of activity, with dozens of winged insectoid aliens going about their business, flitting from one high doorway to another. The streets below seem almost like an afterthought, used only occasionally by small automated machines. Several overgrown flower beds and shaggy trees fill the spaces between the roads and hug the sides of the tall buildings. Though the structures still look sturdy, obvious patches of rust and other disrepair indicate that they haven’t been very well taken care of.

Most of the ghibrani citizens stop what they are doing and stare at the PCs as they walk with Klarima. In short order, a contingent of ghibranis wearing formal armor and carrying weapons that look like taclashes flutters down to confront the group.

Luckily, Klarima steps forward to defuse any potential conflict, explaining to the guards that the PCs are her guests.

After a few moments spent conferring with the guards Klarima turns to the PCs and says, “Good news! You are going to be allowed to speak to the Most Elevated!”

With their newly acquired honor guard, Klarima leads the PCs to the tallest, fanciest building in the center of the city. The guards flit their wings and fly toward an opening in the structure 40 feet off the ground. Klarima appears to be about to do the same, when she suddenly realizes that the PCs probably don’t have the ability to fly. Using her datapad, she summons forth a table-sized hovering drone for each PC. These drones are clearly meant to only haul cargo and have no real safety measures for carrying living creatures. As one PC steps onto her means of conveyance, its hoverjets momentarily give out and it nearly crashes to the ground, but it powers back on just in time. In the end, though, the robots slowly but surely raise up the PCs to the height of the entranceway, where they can step inside.

The guards continue to usher the PCs, leading them to a large central chamber with vaulted ceilings. A large table occupies one end of the room, behind which sit five membrane ghibranis dressed in elaborate robes. They stand, bow to the PCs, and beckon them to approach.

Klarima introduces the Most Elevated council, "They welcome you to the city and can assist you with communications."

The council members offer to cast share languages on the rest of the party. I will assume everyone accepts unless you say you do not.

After pleasantries are exchanged, everyone is offered a chair.

One of the elders eagerly starts to ask questions. "Klarima says that you are not from this world and you were here on some kind of mission. How did you get here?"

Azara passes his thanks to the Husks through Klarima as he accepts their gifts. He ceremoniously takes one of the vials then offers the rest to his fellow Starfinders.

He chats up Klarima as they walk along to the city. He shares as much as he gets from her, asking about her world, society and, especially, history. He's quite curious about the "invisible fire." Given the wide variety of technology and magic that has been created with the express purpose of destroying life, it is hard to determine what might have been the actual cause, but he is curious if there might be residual radiation.

He is careful to make no sudden moves when the guards arrive. When no hostilities seem forthcoming, he follows along, looking around curiously as they make their way through the city.

He is less than comfortable with their manner of transport up to the council chamber, but does his best not to show his hesitation.

Once inside, he continues speaking for the group.

"That is correct, your Honor. We are Starfinders. We came here on a ship," he trusts the translation magic to come up with an equivalent concept for them, "for the express purpose of finding out more about this planet and its inhabitants. We are quite delighted to find such accomodating, welcoming beings, especially after the welcome we received in the sky."

"Did you know there was a machine up there that tries to destroy visitors? Do you know if there is a way to turn it off so that more Starfinders might come to learn about you and, potentially offer assistance? You have wonderful technology here and I'm sure that there are those who would like to study and perhaps even improve it," he says.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23

Ears keeps to the middle of the group during the long walk, both inside and outside of the city. He listens as much as possible to the discussion with Klarima.

On the levitating discs, Ears flattens himself out on his belly with his arma and legs spread. When they reach the top he scrambles onto the solid floor, stands erect, and brushes himself off. He dusts himself off with an apologetic shrug.

Inside the Elavated's chamber, the ysoki gladly accepts the translation spell, but let's Azara do the talking.

Hish, since they speak the language temporarily, accepts the healing serum with a nod of gratitude. On the journey to Arkeost, they remain mostly quiet, but it’s clear that they take delight in the alien landscape of this strange, devastated world.

In Arkeost itself, Hish keeps close to the group.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
After the brief interaction with the local constabulary, they say wryly (to the Starfinders alone), Looks like the ghibrani aren’t much in need of law enforcement—that lot wasn’t at all comfortable with their weapons. But at least they have them. I don’t trust places without police. The drone lifts take them by surprise, but after a start when the elevation begins, they keep their center of weight low and rise it out gamely enough.

In the council chamber, they add to Azara’s statement: “We’re researchers, explorers, and wanderers—big on seeing new places, like yours. Klarima told us a bit of your history; is there any chance you can expand?”

Diplomacy (Assist Azara): 1d20 ⇒ 2

Before the Gibrani elders can answer any questions, a gentle tone rings throughout the room. Klarima visibly perks up. “Dinner!” she explains. “It feels like ages since I’ve had a proper meal.” The guards, who had been standing at attention near the door to this room, pull chairs up to the table and a handful of hovering drones enter from previously hidden hatches in the walls. The drones place ceramic plates and utensils in front of each person; the utensil each person receives is a flat piece of metal with a slight indent at one end—almost like a spoon. Each person is then given a serving of a thick, light tan liquid in which floats irregular chunks of protein. The food has a smoky, cheesy odor. As the ghibranis begin scooping up their meals, Klarima explains this is a traditional dinner of “kahlgee,” a word that doesn’t really translate into Common.

You can partake in the meal. If you try the food, you will need to make a DC 12 fortitude save to avoid immediately spitting it back up as the taste and texture of the kahlgee is revolting to most life forms

If you wish to push you food around or attempt to hide some of the food to make it appear as if have eaten, that would be a bluff check

Patterson steels himself and tastes the food.

DC 12 Fort save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

It's a struggle, but the pilot manages to keep a couple of bites down. "Thank...you...for your...hospitality."

Hish looks at the khalgee dubiously. Yeah...I don’t know about that. Since they can converse with the ghibrani, they try to distract the nearest ones with companionable conversation so they don’t notice Hish isn’t eating the food.

Bluff: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11

Gwin chows down. Tastes fine to him.

Fort: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Azara is excited about trying out new cuisine. You can tell so much about a culture by their food.

He is less excited when he sees what it is, but keeps an open mind. After all, it is what food tastes like that is most important.

Fort:: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

He is much less excited when he actually puts some in his mouth. He fights the urge as the foul, stringy yet rubbery stuff sits on his tongue, but after only a second he spits it back out into the bowl.

"My apologies. I have a sensitive stomach," he says, by way of lame excuse.

He tries to change the subject. "These drones are quite amazing. Where do they come from? How often do they require maintenance? I'd be very interested to meet the people who make them."

Before trying the Kahlgee, Ears spits a flashlight out his mouth and into his hand. Then a vial of healing serum follows. He likes his lips, and runs a hand over his mouth. Then he tries an experimental spoonful.

Focusing inward, he mumbles around the spoonful. "Plenty of iron, a bit of urea, ooo, what's that?!"

Mindful of the importance of manners and making a good impression, he swallows it down. "I think some of the proteins are left handed. If they can be mirrored...."

Fort: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15

Cast token spell, to improve the taste.

Klarima looks over at Hish, "You could at least try it before dismissing it" Just then Azara spits out the food. Klarima gives a nervous laugh.

One of the Elevated fields the question about the drones, "Ah the drones...they have been here sometime. Remnants of the original settlers, they take care of the mainframe." As if on cue, the power cuts out. The room immediately goes black.

When the lights come back, you notice the Ghibrani did not react as if anything happened. They continue with their meals.

"Maybe we could fix that for you. Gwin-215, Shiktal, and Ears know a lot about machinery."

"Thank you for the offer, but nothing is broken" One of the elevated states. The dinner chime rings again followed by drones placing clean plates on top of the dirty ones and inaccurately squirting kahlgee across the table. The ghibranis smile awkwardly and attempt to act as if nothing is amiss, although no one eats a second time. A minute later, the drones sweep in again to clean up the mess.

“Is that a um...traditional post-meal ritual?” Hish asks, politely.

Sense Motive: IS something amiss?: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11

Gwin looks around trying to diagnose what the mechanical issue.

Engineering: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30

Ears' ears perk up. " You said the drones are remnants of the original settlers. Who came before you?"

Gwin believes that there is a mainframe issue. It would be a problem with the mainframe since both the lights and the drones seem to be malfunctions.

"Ghibrani of course."Klarima speaks up.

"Could we see this mainframe?" Azara asks. "We were attacked by a drone when we approached your planet and it is possible that it is also controlled by the mainframe. Perhaps if we can access it, we can ensure that the drone in orbit sees us as friends so that we can visit more easily."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (16) + 11 = 27

Azara, nailing those diplomacy checks!

Ears looks squarely at Klarima, " I am a little confused. In our language your phrasing implied that the original settlers, were a different people who left the drones behind. But aren't the Husks and Membranes Ghibrani? Or are you saying that the drones were given to you by your ancient ancestors?"

"In a way they are different, but yet the same. We, membranes and husks, evolved from the settlers." One answers Ears.

In response to Azara's questions, they ask for a moment to discuss. They convene at the table in hushed whispers. Finally one speaks to the group, "While tradition does not allow us Ghibrani to enter the mainframe. Nothing states non-ghibrani the same restriction. If you like, Klarima can point you in the direction of the mainframe, and if you are so insistent to look at it, no one will stop you here. The choice is yours."

"Before we complete our meeting, we would like to thank you for your company and conversation." One of the Most Elevated pulls out a dark blue metal crown embossed with silver thread. "Take this, so that you may communicate with others and further extend your Society's goals."

The Most Elevated then stand up from the tables and excuse themselves out the door they came from. Soon all that are in the room are a few drones, Klarima and the PC's.

Klarima speaks, "While we were eating, I had a couple drones convert a ground level warehouse for you to sleep in. It is not much, but it is the best we can offer you. I will show you there"

Klarima leads you to the warehouse, along the way she points out the bottom floor of the mainframe. As you can see, there is no guards at the door. Not even a sufficient locking mechanism.

"Here it is." She presses a button on the side of the door, revealing the bare interior. "I may not be able to offer you a crown, but I would like you to have this" She pulls out a pistol and hands it to Azara. "It is left over from the wars. We do not have much use of these weapons and you all may need it on the way back to you ship"

She then leaves the PC's to rest.

You may rest and rehab for night's rest

"In a way they are different, but yet the same. We, membranes and husks, evolved from the settlers." One answers Ears.

" Thank you, I see now." Ears nods, rubs his forehead with a hand. "Just one more thing. Why do you call them settlers? Did they come from another world? Or is it because they settled such a magnificent city?"

Ears lets Azara handle the party's thank you's and good bye's; the lashunta's been pitch-perfect so far.

In the quarters

The door's barely closed behind the party when Ears starts jumping. "Fascinating! What a culture." The ysoki does a pirouette before continuing.

"Gwin, nice job spotting the potential source of the drones' glitch. Asking for mainframe access was a pretty bold move, Azara, but it's paid off in shovels full. What's our next move? Sneak into the mainframe tonight?"

We should probably rest and heal up Azara in particular, but Ears is excited.

"Your hospitality has been more than commendable," Azara says as the Most Elevated prepare to leave. He is pleased that his earlier faux pas with the soup did not provide too much offense. "And you honor us by allowing us to see the Mainframe. We will treat it with the utmost respect."

Azara knows how to talk but knowing things is not his thing so he takes the crown and offers thanks again but will hand it over to the rest of the party to examine when they get to their makeshift sleep quarters.

"What you have given us is much more valuable than any crown, Klarima. Without you, we would not have been able to talk to the husks outside, or been able to get into the city, or meet with the Most Elevated. You have been a great friend to us and it was a wonderful happenstance that we met you," he says, taking the pistol gratefully.

He grins wearily as Ears' eagerness. "Quite an interesting culture. Does anyone else get the feeling they have no idea how the drones, or anything else really works and that they're teetering on the edge of a technological collapse? Those drones are clearly glitching. It's only a matter of time before the membranes will be living like the husks, unless we do something."

"But I don't think a night is going to make much difference and I could use a good night's rest. Does anyone object to starting in the morning?"

Gwin is already asleep and snoring.

"I'm with Gwin. Wake me up if they decide to slit our throats in our sleep, hey?"

"Tomorrow morning it is. Bright and fresh we'll tackle the mainframe. I think we're safe enough here. No reason to set a watch, eh?"

I'm always a little paranoid, but I'm also pretty tired. Hish says. They curl up, ready for sleep. Oh, and is anyone here going to claim that gun?

"Someone other than me should take it. I'm really not a good shot at all. "

"Snrk . . .. snss . . . zzzzz. . . . SNORK! . . . "

Azara is actually hesitant on the question of setting a watch. The Ghibrani seem...harmless, but there is always the chance that there is a more aggressive, xenophobic branch they haven't met. It's not much of a chance, though so he goes with the majority and starts to settle in for a night's rest.

He leaves the pistol on a table. "I'll keep it if no one else wants it. I already have a sidearm, though and I don't shoot much, anyway so if someone else can put it to better use, so be it."

Hush grins and grabs it up. I’ll take it then, they say cheerfully. I shoot things—and the Static Arc’s a good model, but sometimes you want more of a punch.

The Next Day

The building housing the Mainframe is near the outskirts of Arkeost, on the opposite side of the city that the PCs entered. The PCs see an increased concentration of drones and other hovering robots in this neighborhood, though none seem to pay any attention to them. A large doorway leads into the structure and a ramp descends a bit into open garage-like space where thousands of drones are stored. Many are powered down and others are being repaired by other drones, leaving the PCs to walk through patches of dead silence followed by stretches of frantic activity as they descended on curving ramps farther and farther below. As the PCs continue, they spot the several signs in what you believe is the Ghibrani written language. Eventually, the PCs reach a
hallway that branches off from the garages.

The hallway opens into a rectangular room of white plastic, a stark contrast to the smoky, grease-stained garages that led up to this place. Fans whir quietly overhead. Track lighting along the floor illuminates much of the chamber. Several white coveralls hang on the wall behind a bench to the north. A door leads to the east.

"Looks pretty well kept-up. I guess they built to last, hey?" Patterson takes a look at the coveralls to see if they were made for creatures like the Ghibrani.

Gwin also checks out the coveralls to see if they might fight. He'll put one on if it fits, otherwise he'll eagerly move to the door, waiting for the others to be ready.

Azara looks closely at the warehouse they pass through. His eyes narrow as he sees drones fixing drones and not a single sign of Ghibrani or any other sentient being doing any work.

"There are no perfect refrigerators or ovens and that which is being fixed cannot be fixed by itself, forever," he comments.

He follows Gwin's lead and, assuming there is no one around to stop them and they fit, dons some of the coveralls over his armor.

"It is amazing how often you will be ignored and believed to belong someplace if you are just wearing the right clothes, even when it comes to machines," he comments.