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Athrax begins to dig through what is left on the bodies and finds a few items of interest:
Pethjun steps through the portal, feeling almost like she is pushing through water — though it is tingly rather than wet. She can feel an electric charge crackling along her scales as she pushes through to another world.
Then abruptly, the feeling is gone. Pethjun falls about three feet onto the hard pavement in an abandoned twilight-lit alley.
You arrive the streets of Shadow Absalom. This shifting city is an imperfect mirror of its Material Plane counterpart, with many regions and districts of its own.
The portal dumps you into an abandoned alley, right across from a boarded-up shop whose peeling sign reads “Organs and Sundries.” The side of the portal on the Shadow Plane looks identical to the side that you entered. As you step out to peer beyond the alley to the streets beyond, you realize that you can feel the presence of the portal behind you. It is a feeling not unlike the itch of a phantom limb.
The portal is drawing power from some external force, most likely a magical focus item, and knows that such an item would only be effective within a range of a few miles.
You gaze out on to the street that lays beyond the alleyway, and notice that there is a great diversity to the people you see. Although half of them appear to be fetchlings, the other half appear to be from a wide variety of humanoid species unknown to you — some look like odd versions of humans, others look insectoid or even reptilian. Wherever you are, it is diverse.
Skyrahk moves up to the portal and waits for Pethjun to return and report what was found.
Pethjun sniffs suspiciously at what she sees, and especially notes that none of the rest of followed her. But of course, none can match the bravery of Pethjun. Still, she can't deny a unusual tingling running down her spine.
She turns around towards the feeling of the portal that she can't see and pushes back towards her home plane.
"Strange place. Stranger creatures. Looks like ours somewhat, but of course, not as good," She says in a huff. "We need to close the portal, or more would come later." She stares at Skyrahk and Varanog. "Do your job!"
Athrax hands out the spoils, "Peth, you get stabbed a lot so take these . Sneaky Healy Smek, take this and use it if needed." He hands off the oils of darkness to whoever with a shrug while muttering "useless" and holds onto the dusts of tracelessness, "Probably good for when we leave this place so we can't be tracked back home."
He pops through the portal after Pethjun returns to investigate as well, now less worried about the other side. Slipping back through he inspects the portal to figure out which side the magical focus item might be on. "I've done enough work with exploding spells to know this thing looks like magic. We just gotta find the focus and boom-boom it to close the portal. Hopefully it is on our side or if not, we can drag it back through. The other side is not a place I want to set up my... er our empire."
The Sorcerer Supreme clears his fellows away from his view of the portal so that he might look upon it with his all-seeing eyes.
You gaze out on to the street that lays beyond the alleyway, and notice that there is a great diversity to the people you see. Although half of them appear to be fetchlings, the other half appear to be from a wide variety of humanoid species unknown to you — some look like odd versions of humans, others look insectoid or even reptilian. Wherever you are, it is diverse.
"Disgusting."
"Fine, they didn't die." Fazgyn shrugs. "Let's go find the magic thingy and close the door." Stepping through the portal, he lands lightly and stares around, expression blank and maybe a little bored.
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Athrax knows the focus is definitely, unfortunately, somewhere in the Shadow Realm.
Unlike cities of the Material Plane, the streets of Shadow Absalom are accommodating to most species—kobolds included. People wave at you, and don’t seem to bat an eye at seeing five kobolds walking together on the city streets. With this fortuitous luxury to walk unmolested, you have the chance to chat with locals and learn about the local area.
The city is called Shadow Absalom and is located on the Shadow Plane. As its name would suggest, the city rests at a coterminous point with Absalom's location on the Material Plane. The locals are used to strangers winding up in the city, by mistake or by odd turns of fortune.
The great wyrm umbral dragon Argrinyxia, the Shifting Lady of Ebon Scales, rules Shadow Absalom. By her decree, planar portals and gateways are prohibited within the borders of the city without her blessing. The sole exception is a stable planar portal located in the city's heart, a site that matches up with the Material Plane equivalent of Starstone Cathedral. Those lost in the Shadow Plane are urged to exit via the strange portal in the city's heart, as it always returns those who entered the Shadow Plane to their previous point of entry.
While dozens of factions operate within the planar city, two are of interest to the PCs' expedition. The Onyx Alliance maintains several safe houses and bases within the city. The alliance's headquarters is probably located somewhere within the city, though only its members know for sure. A second organization, known as the Light-Weavers' Guild, is comprised of several resident d'ziriak hives that make their living by adding luminescent accoutrements to clothing and armor. The light-weavers maintain a longstanding grudge against the Onyx Alliance, based on some past slight unknown to the people of Shadow Absalom.
One of Argrinyxia's lesser spawn—the wyrmling Shadrixis—has made some bargain with the forces of the Onyx Alliance. The exact details of the arrangement are unknown, but many suspect that the wyrmling has sought to spite his mother by assisting the Onyx Alliance. Others comment how Shadrixis stole one of his mother's scales, the key to opening planar portals in the city.
Skyrahk steps through the portal after it seems to be safe. She shivers from the tingling from the portal and the looks around at the new place.
Since they seem friendly she goes about talking to a few of them before returning the group.
"Place is called Shadow Absalom. As figure in Shadow Plane. Ruler of shadow city is a dragon. Lady Argrinyxia. A center portal in city will allow us to return to our place after we close this portal."
"We are not taking four hours for you to talk to these sub-kobolds." Varanog says giving whomever Skyrahk was about to talk to the stink eye. "Knowing the way these things work, I suggest we seek out the same place we just left here on the other side of the portal."
”Sounds like someone is breaking rules.”
Athrax shrugs, "tis a good plan. Or we could just start um... interrogating these fools until they tell us where the Onyx Alliance is located. I mean, that's what the lesser races are for, right? To serve us. If they don't answer the question, we let Pethjun add a hole to their body and ask again."
Pethjun is now quieter than usual, refusing to admit as she looks around the place that this is something out of her usual comfort. The familiar yet strange surrounding spook her but of course, she's never going to admit it.
She deals with it with more bravado. "Of course! Stick 'em all with holes!" But she looks around, uncertain if she can fight everyone.
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Searching for an accessible entrance back into the sewers the kobolds aren't able to find anything that isn't shut up tight right away as this whole place just seems a bit backwards and strange.
Meanwhile, as you explore the city, it just gets weirder and weirder. You see a group of fetchlings in rags slump against the sealed entrance of a church bereft of iconography. Each of them partakes in a ritual involving crushing crystalline prisms that, when broken, emit vibrant, multicolored light. The light moves into the fetchling's eyes, absorbing like water down a drain. “Who-o-oa.” One of them lies back, staring up at the sky. “I have tasted the rainbow. Who knew there were so many flavors of light?"
Varanog sneers.
"How can you even tell what these people are thinking when they have no tails." he says, his own tail alert and wary.
Athrax shrugs as they are unable to find a way into the sewers, "Well, better to talk to some of these idiots than wander for days. Let's start with the dredges, no one will miss them if things go poorly."
He hollers over to one of the tieflings, "Hey you, want to give us a hand. It'll be worth it." He attempts to convey the message as not a threat, though his smile appears less friendly and more like a crocodile looking at a tasty fish.
Varanog finds someone not so grotesquely huge that he cannot look them in the eye and says "Tell me what I want to know, or I will eat all of your progeny, worm!"
"Yes. Come over here. We could use some information..." tries to appear friendly.
Pethjun says nothing, merely standing beside Varanog glaring fiercely at the fetchlings, swishing her tail dangerously around.
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Athrax calls out to one of the drug-addled Fletchlings. His eyes swirl with rainbow colors, “but then you drink in the colors. Do you think that violet tastes bittersweet? It’s a bit like butterflies, but also a bit like despair.”
Thinking the kobolds want some as well he apologizes. “We don’t have any more, or I’d let you taste too,” a female says in a dreamy voice. “The lightweavers are stingy, or we’d do this all the time.”
You have seen this sort of decadent behavior before on the streets of Absalom. These fetchlings are addicts, only their drug is not alcohol or a narcotic, but light. From the state of their health and their clothing, they have been doing this way too much.
Meanwhile Varanog attempts to intimidate someone in the streets. He sizes up and attempts to intimidate a scarred looking duergar who only glares back at the kobold. She looks you up and down, seemingly caught off guard and a bit shaken by Varanog's boldness.
The duergar is quickly joined by a large well-armored man, guiding a glowing horse and a third companion, an elven female with rich brown skin carrying a small astrolabe that spins.
The large man hails you. “Hello, I am Sir Melnas, and these are my companions. My noble steed, Yong, and the fair maidens, Unbroken and Larinar!” Both of the dark skinned ‘fair maidens’ roll their eyes at his introduction but don’t protest. “I do say... We appear to be a bit, er, lost. Would you fine dragons know the way to the center of this town? We have heard rumors that there may be a portal there.”
He glances at you, hopefully.
Varanog prepares to incinerate the lot of them.
He sighs at the disgraced creatures, waste of life, not even worth exploding. Without hiding his lack of concern for them he simply says, "Hmm... well we won't waste any more of your time then. Enjoy your... whatever."
He moves back over to the others and stares at the tall man, "Portal? Where does it go and what do you want with it?"
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Larinor sighs and speaks up as she ignores Athrax. "We must get moving along Aslynn’s minions are not far behind. We must make haste to Galisemni...” Larinar breaks off as the light around you shimmers, and an insectoid steps out through the bend in the light.
Sir Melnas raises an eyebrow and mouths a word to Fazgyn.
Perhaps this one can be of service, lost ones. This one is called Y'zilix. Please accept this one’s humble apology." The creature’s antennae droop as the telepathic voice hits all your minds at once. "This one needed to make certain that you were not Onyx Alliance before approaching."
Then Y'zilix hands Larinar a ball of light. "Let this guide you to the place you seek. The dragons and Y'zilix must talk."
“Farewell, Dragons,” Sir Melnas waves. “I hope you find what you seek!”
Y’zilix nods politely as the trio takes off. It is only when they are out of sight that she turns back to you.
"There. Now we may talk, dragons. I am sure you must have questions, as do I."
"As I said, this place is full of lawless degenerates." says of Melnas after he leaves.
Pethjun stares suspiciously at each of the strange characters in turn, acting all tough as she refuses to admit that much is flying above her head, so to speak.
"Yes! How do we destroy this Onyx Alliance!?"
Anthrax nods, finally someone who seems to be in charge, ”Yes, that is a good start. Also, who are you and what is this place?”
"Need to find a way to close the portal, permanently, the one we came through to get here."
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This one is happy to answer your questions. Y’zilik politely nods to Pethjun. We are of a group opposed to the Onyx Alliance. The Alliance is about conquest, ruthless exploitation of the planes. They seek domination, not balance. They seek to rule not just here, but in your lands as well.
Y’zilik points to herself as she bows. This one was assigned the duty of watching the portal that your group used to arrive, for that portal was created by the Onyx Alliance. This One was tasked with hampering the troops that they brought, but you Dragons were a surprise. This one had to watch in secret, lest the Onyx Alliance find out and set to destroy the Light Weavers.
The tyrants of the Onyx Alliance disregard the rules of our city's matron, the great Argrinyxia. She has forbidden the creation of any planar gateways without her express consent—consent only given in the form of one of her vaunted scales. Unable to retrieve such a blessing on their own, the alliance managed to trick one of great Argrinyxia's whelplings into stealing such a scale.
Y’zilik clicks its mandibles as if in distaste as such a dishonorable action. Now, that misbegotten child, the wyrmling Shadrixis, has been gifted a lair as an offering from the Onyx Alliance. Were you to retrieve the scale and slay the whelping, then it would be a simple matter to close the portal that intrudes on your world. Of course, this would also accomplish the goals of the Light Weavers.
... Can you do this thing?
This one is happy to answer your questions. Y’zilik politely nods to Pethjun. We are of a group opposed to the Onyx Alliance. The Alliance is about conquest, ruthless exploitation of the planes. They seek domination, not balance. They seek to rule not just here, but in your lands as well.
"Sounds reasonable, even though they would obviously be doomed to lose any conflict with us Sewer Dragons."
The tyrants of the Onyx Alliance disregard the rules of our city's matron, the great Argrinyxia. She has forbidden the creation of any planar gateways without her express consent—consent only given in the form of one of her vaunted scales. Unable to retrieve such a blessing on their own, the alliance managed to trick one of great Argrinyxia's whelplings into stealing such a scale.
Y’zilik clicks its mandibles as if in distaste as such a dishonorable action. Now, that misbegotten child, the wyrmling Shadrixis, has been gifted a lair as an offering from the Onyx Alliance. Were you to retrieve the scale and slay the whelping, then it would be a simple matter to close the portal that intrudes on your world. Of course, this would also accomplish the goals of the Light Weavers.
... Can you do this thing?
"WAIT! You want us to slay one of our blood? A true true-blood!?"
Varanog prepares to incinerate this insect with a few scorching rays.
Athrax thinks a moment as to their charged mission, a dragon in our debt would be invaluable though, "Is there no chance for redemption for this whelp? Could we perhaps persuade them to repent their evil deeds and return to the fold?" He kicks himself mentally for his words, Our stupid cleric is rubbing off on me, that was very flowery.
Skyrahk puts her hand on Varanog to calm his anger. "Athrax is right. We talk to whelp, see if whelp will come back into the fold. If not, all things at some point will see it's end."
A long exhalation hisses from closed fangs. "Sounds foolish. But what choice do we have?" Faz grumbles, shaking his head side to side. "Where do we find Shadrixis? Are there more onyx fools?"
Atrax thinks for a second, "Wait, how do we know you actually serve the great Argrinyxia? What if you are just setting us up to take out one of her children and doom ourselves?"
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"WAIT! You want us to slay one of our blood? A true true-blood!?"
Y’zilik inclines her antennae to Varanog. "Arginyxia is not just a mother, she is a monarch. Shadrixis has betrayed her, seeking power at her expense."
Then she turns to Fazgyn. "As for going to Argrinyxia herself... She would prefer that this matter be handled quietly. Her child has conspired with one group from the material plane. It would only be fitting if his punishment had come from the same illegal portal that he set up."
The insectoid pauses, spinning a ball of light in her hands as she considers. "If you are worried about slaying the wyrmling, you could attempt to make him see reason. If he were to turn over the scale and close the portal himself, perhaps our matron Arginyxia could see to someday forgiving his trespasses against her. But this one warns you, Shadrixis is haughty and full of himself. This one does not see him being persuaded easily, but perhaps you, as fellow dragons, might manage it."
"Whatever you do, you must stop him. Close the portal and collect the scale. This is what all of us wish."
"Where do we find Shadrixis? Are there more onyx fools?"
“The umbral wyrmling is like most children of his species, indolent and insufferable. As a dragon, he wishes to be fawned over, but despises his lesser role in the great machine of Shadow Absalom. As for his dwelling, the Onyx Alliance provided for him a great spire to roost upon—a spire built on a hive of my people, destroyed by the alliance during one of their many expansions in the city.”
"Oh, so there is your play. Send us in to the trap, then come behind." One claw tests the edge of his dagger. "I say we talk to the dragon. Maybe we join Shadrixis and you don't get what you want. Maybe you do. I'm not so foolish to challenge dominance in their own lair."
"Let us go and check this Shadrixis out. We can decide what to do after talking."
Athrax's eyes squint, "Well okay then, you better not be jerking us around. Sewer Dragons don't take kindly to being played. What kind of dragon is this we are facing? Red? Blue? Gold? Orange? Opaque? Beige? Rainbow?"
If I can kill this thing and curry favor with the boss dragon in this realm, my pathfinder allies will be impressed and certainly present me with a field commission, maybe even a venture captaincy!
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[ooc]@Athrax- Up above Y’zilik let you know that it is an Umbral Wyrmling.[ooc]
"Let us go and check this Shadrixis out. We can decide what to do after talking."
Y’zilik looks hopeful, "I would still be prepared for a fight. An umbral dragon is a formidable foe."
====================================================================
Seemingly looking to set off right away, you set off for the Dragon tower with Y’zilik as your guide. A soaring edifice of darkened violet stone looms in the city’s skyline, some four hundred feet above.
An imposing edifice of near-black violet and navy blue, the spire has no windows or slits to view inside, and only pristine knifelike metal embellishments emerge from its smooth sides. There are no buildings within at least 100 feet of the spire, instead, only an open plain of darkened dirt stretches around the perimeter. A steep rise in the surrounding dirt obscures the base of the tower, covering its edges like a hill.
You all feel a wave of anguish, tinged dark purple like a fresh bruise, spill over from Y’zilik. "This one can go no further, honorable dragons. Too many of the d’ziriak people died when the Onyx Alliance cleared our hive to build this tower of shame. This one will meditate on their lives while she awaits your return." The light weaver weaves a gossamer layer of light around herself, and disappears from view.
Jet-black dirt extends a hundred feet around the tower in a sizable mound that obscures the spire’s base. Engraved in the hills around the tower are strange symbols, each the size of a standing human.
The magical etchings correspond to the magical runes commonly found on d’ziriak hives. Normally these symbols would glow with luminous energies, indicating ownership of the region to a given hive, but the glowing light went out when the Onyx Alliance destroyed the hive.
There are no visible entrances to the tower, though a single tunnel descends into the hill surrounding the spire.
Pethjun almost spits in disgust at the idea of talking down the wyrmling. Her rapier itches. Fool of a wyrmling to think it could cross the Sewer Dragons!
She confidently leads the rest of the kobolds onward after Y’zilik disappears. She points at the symbols and calls out to SKyrahk and
Varanog. "What do they say? And be quick! There's a wyrmling to take care of!"
Looks at the symbols. "They are not religious text. Perhaps arcane. What say you Varanog?"
"....Don't know why his mother doesn't come down here and do this..." grumbles the Sorcerer Supreme. So angry is the volatile sorcerer that he doesn't even hear Pehtjun. "Hmm?"
Looks at the symbols. "They are not religious text. Perhaps arcane. What say you Varanog?"
Varanog relies upon his vast knowledge of all things related to shadowy humanoid cockroaches .
"They're nothing. Just cockroach scrabbling. Y’zilik's people marking their former territory, like cats and dogs do in the city. Now it just marks their grave. You first, Fazgyn."
Hmm, perhaps the bugs left some loot. But would it be anything worthy of one of the true blood?
"What? Me? Fine." Fazgyn barks sharply in surprise, roused from his study of the tower. Leading the way down, he keeps sharp watch for traps.
Skyrahk follows suit as they go deeper.
Athrax nods, "Ah yes, an Umbral Dragon. I know all about those. Yup, definitely sure do. They are dragons that do dragony things for sure." I think they bought it.
He follows along in the middle of the pack or near the rear muttering to himself.
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You head down into the tunnel. The underground tunnel opens up into what was once a vast circular chamber. Portions of the northwest and southeastern sections of the room have collapsed. Three pillars rise up twenty feet to a stone ceiling above, each of their sides covered in black marble polished to a reflective sheen. A perfectly spherical mirror floats in the air at the northern end of the space, roughly two feet in diameter. An audible hum emanates from the orb and echoes throughout the room.
Around the collapsed dirt mounds of the chamber are dozens of insectile husks, each the long-decayed body of defending d'ziriak of the hive.
The spherical mirror glows with powerful divination and conjuration magic.
Pethjun raises her rapier, but hesitates to move forward. She is not afraid, not definitely not. Just giving the magic users a chance to look around first. Yes, definitely that.
Her eyes start to glow slightly as she scans the area for magic. "The mirror radiates magic. Powerful magic. We should investigate it."
Varanog looks around with magical eyes.
"See? Roaches." says Varanog kicking one of the husks. "Ooo, What's this?" he says looking at the mirror.
Creeping around the side of the mirror, Fazgyn inspects the area for traps.
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Vanarog proves that he is truly a master of the arcane, for only he deciphers the true purpose of the mirror sphere. He realizes that some of its magic resonates with that of the portal that brought you here, the portal that you can all still feel tugging on you in a nebulous way.
This sphere is unusual though. It is not only a dedicated gate from one place to another, but also a communication device. If you touch it, it will frost over and after a minute your reflection will be replaced with a view of the room for the portal on the other side. From there, you can communicate with anyone on the other side of the portal, or you can step through.
Fazgyn gives the strange orb a very quick once over but doesn't notice any traps.