Kissan follows the commands of the whistle, shifting from an offensive position to a defensive position. She crouches on her back legs, eyes tracking the bloody spear.
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The thoughts that go through Smarmy's mind, when the cursed elf's bear climbs up and negates his ambush position, are not pleasant. For a moment, he considers finishing the furry beast off, while everyone thinks the demon's spear is responsible...
But after a moment, he decides to leave it, unsure on the sight lines on the other side of the column.
With a scowl, he ducks out from behind the column, using the bear as cover as long as he can, then tries to duck and dodge in beneath the demons long spear.
Reaching the thing's side, he takes a hack at it with his axe.
, for .
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Edmund whistles to Kissan, his arrows whistle to the demon, it shrieks in pain. Before the babau can lift its spear again, a dwarf appears from behind the bear, driving his battleaxe into the babau's skull, any strength leaving its body as it lumps to the floor. Maybe the demon was dead before Smarmy got there, he could have a falling corpse for all we know. For now, he'll take the credit.
The group of Pathfinders begin huddling for survival, as they realize that battles are still going, both above and below them. They have to choose wisely.
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Sensing a lull in the combat, Edmund bows his head. Desna. You have granted us safety thus far in our travels. Bring your protection upon us further.
First, the subject gains a +2 deflection bonus to AC and a +2 resistance bonus on saves. Both these bonuses apply against attacks made or effects created by evil creatures.
Second, the subject immediately receives another saving throw (if one was allowed to begin with) against any spells or effects that possess or exercise mental control over the creature (including enchantment [charm] effects and enchantment [compulsion] effects, such as charm person, command, and dominate person). This saving throw is made with a +2 morale bonus, using the same DC as the original effect. If successful, such effects are suppressed for the duration of this spell. The effects resume when the duration of this spell expires. While under the effects of this spell, the target is immune to any new attempts to possess or exercise mental control over the target. This spell does not expel a controlling life force (such as a ghost or spellcaster using magic jar), but it does prevent them from controlling the target. This second effect only functions against spells and effects created by evil creatures or objects, subject to GM discretion.
Third, the spell prevents bodily contact by evil summoned creatures. This causes the natural weapon attacks of such creatures to fail and the creatures to recoil if such attacks require touching the warded creature. Summoned creatures that are not evil are immune to this effect. The protection against contact by summoned creatures ends if the warded creature makes an attack against or tries to force the barrier against the blocked creature. Spell Resistance can allow a creature to overcome this protection and touch the warded creature.
"The fiercest battle rages above us! We should press on!"
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Jey gives a nod of appreciation to Edmund, and renews his magical shield spell with a flick of his wand, thankful that he still have a mirror image (one!) active and his long arms still extendable...
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Mun hustles to Selune, displaying a yet-unseen amount of concern for the bear as he heals her. Apparently, his rough handling doesn't reflect his real feelings for Selune; he softly and gently scratches and whispers to her as he makes sure she bears no more life-threatening injuries.
Once satisfied, he stands tall and gives the scruff of her neck a hard pull to get her moving, returning to form. He stows his longspear, drawing his longbow as he too prepares for the journey upwards.
The strange device around the demon overlord’s neck pulses with angry green light, its vein-like circuitry illuminating the entire chamber. With a thunderous crack and a blinding flash, a wave of crackling energy bursts from the relic, freezing anything it touches in mid-stride. In the span of several heartbeats, the entire room is locked in stasis. As the combatants stand helpless, the room’s features slowly rebuild themselves as though decaying in reverse. Ghostly figures— dwarves, demons, duergar, and more—flit about the room at incredible speeds, sometimes slowing to speak to one another as if playing out brief scenes from an eclectic play. All the while, frozen Pathfinders and demons who were fighting only moments ago begin to wink out of existence. As the chamber reaches its pristine state, duergar apparitions appear fighting dwarven images, and a slain king rises from death to stand before a stone throne. The room brightens as illuminated torches fill once empty sconces, and the immobile Pathfinders begin to move once more.
The king glowers and shouts from his throne as his honor guard level halberds toward you. ”What is this? What devilish trick sullies the throne room of King Gutheran of Jormurdun? Where are the rest of my soldiers? Where are the duergar who invade my citadel?”
Briefly taken aback, Master of Scrolls Kreighton Shaine quickly recovers and asks, ”You are Gutheran the Bold?” The dwarf receives the question and sputters at the elf’s audaciousness. Shaine quickly bows and continues. “Your majesty, forgive our intrusion. Some sorcery has transposed our forms into an alternate configuration in temporal space, which is to say we are seeing your time, or you are seeing ours. I am Kreighton Shaine of the Pathfin—”
Angrily perplexed, the dwarven monarch cuts off the Master of Scrolls’s explanation. ”Speak sense, elf! By Torag’s knucklebones, can no one here tell me what in the seventh hell has happened?”
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The stout, middle-aged dwarf wears a simple crown of iron on his balding pate and stands before a throne made of the same blackened metal. An honor guard of six armor-clad warriors wielding blood-spattered halberds crowd him protectively. He looks at you and barks, “Has the Dweller Below chewed off your tongue? Begin making sense!”
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While Jeydahvu apologizes, Mun draws a wand out of his bag and casts prestidigitation, using the spell's magic to clean his clothing and gear from the many battles. He then calls on Ashava to make his natural beauty that much more impressive.
The elf, always looking fashionable, frankly glows in the aftermath of his cleaning and enchantment. "Thank you, Jeydahvu." He turns his attention to the dwarven king. "Your Highness." He bows deeply. "This certainly must seem confusing to you; it is, frankly, a little confusing to us, as well. We are Pathfinders, and we are out of our time. In our time, this grand palace of yours is, sadly, an empty and forgotten place, filled with monsters and worse." He pauses, allowing King Gutheran to process what he's saying. "It has been long abandoned. Somehow, as our Master of Scrolls has indicated, we have been sent--or are seeing--back in time, to your time. Or maybe the opposite, and you are seeing us in our time. We have just concluded a great battle with demonic forces. I think we were successful, as we are here talking with you, though perhaps we were sent back by the demon as a way to get rid of us. That remains to be seen."
"Either way, we are no threat to you, and we are honored to be in your very presence. Blessings to you, grand King Gutheran of Jormurdun!" He bows again deeply, and waits for the King to order him to stand.
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Jeydahvu cannot believe his eyes when he sees Mun reaching for wands in the presence of a King! however he tries to make no fuss about it, and returns his stare to the ground, Mun's WORDS will save the day.
...only to hear Mun casually announce the fall of the KINGDOM!
Jeydahvu hopes for the best... ... ...
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Mun of Ashava delivers a passionate speech, while Kreighton Shaine hastily writes notes on several sheets of paper.
“Very well. It seems circumstances have brought me the enemy of my enemy. You have come at a difficult time. The duergar have breached our defenses, and despite our bravest efforts, they are winning Jormurdun. I have sent my heirs from this dying place to forge a new future for our people, that they might one day return and claim these halls as their own. Some have stayed behind out of duty or out of love for their homes. I do not know if the duergar or some worse threat still plagues the citadel. Slay my enemies, but spare my people; they are the only legacy left to Jormurdun. If a dwarf should trouble you, inform them that you travel with King Gutheran’s blessing.”
Kreighton Shaine looks up from his writing and says, “Thank you, your majesty. Pathfinders, I’ve studied our surroundings and can conclude that whatever has shifted our place in time is unstable and cannot last. We have perhaps an hour—maybe two—before it collapses, and when that happens, I think it wise that we not be inside. Make your way back to the Grand Cathedral in a timely fashion. But…” he trails off while gazing at the beautiful throne room. “We can’t ignore this splendid opportunity to explore Jormurdun as it was thousands of years ago! Retrace the steps you took to get here, see what has changed, and document what you see. I’ve been able to record brief instructions based on what I have already learned of your earlier discoveries. Be wise, be brave, and make haste!”
In our time, the plaza known as the Brothers’ Arches was too damaged to study in detail. When passing through that area, take time to note if the ages wore away any rune work from these masterful monuments, and record what you find. In the Hall of Hounds there stood a statue once fitted with gems for eyes, but they were gone by our time. Since we know they’re going to get removed, I’d rather we were the ones removing them, for the sake of posterity and research. Make it happen.
• Regain one daily use of a class feature. If you would normally be able to use the feature five or more times in one day, instead regain two uses.
• Heal 1d2 points of damage to all ability scores.
• Heal 1d8 hit points. Add your character level to the number of hit points recovered.
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Before Edmund has a chance to step in and soften Mun's words, the King responds in the most surprising way. Still somewhat disoriented by the shifting time, Edmund somehow feels a renewed connection to Desna and the powers she grants.
Shaking off the cloud of his thoughts, Edmund turns towards the exit. Hefting his bow back into his hands, he draws another arrow. "I guess it's time to get movin'. I don't reckon any of us want to spend ferever here. 'Cept maybe Smarmy... though I needn't remind everyone that we know they lose."
"Back to the Monuments?" he asks, much more of a question than a statement.
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Smarmy does his best to conceal is annoyance, when Mun's words appear to appease the King. Clearly he miscalculated... though just as clearly, the elf is at fault!
He doesn't offer any input on where to go next, though given they have to go through the Monument District to get anywhere, the choice seems obvious.
Instead, he seems to be pouting lost in thought about the King, and being able to see this bit of dwarven history as it was, 3100 years earlier.
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The ravages of time erased, this grand hall sweeps open before you. A gigantic archway is formed by the arms of enormous twin statues, each proudly holding a hammer aloft. Other smaller statues stand at attention, firm and resolute, painted in lifelike detail. A pool of cool water fills the center of the chamber, lit by mirror-reflected sunlight cast through skylights cleverly carved into the ceiling.
Softly, her padded paws fall to the stone chamber. Keeping only a few paces ahead of Edmund, she takes in deep breaths through her tracker's nose.
Smells Changed. Fresh, not old.
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Mun points out the articulation that he notices in the statues. He approaches the nearer one carefully to try to see if he can identify what would trigger a hammer strike. "Smarmy, can you see if that one is safe to pass by?"
"The King told us to tell his subjects that we pass with his blessing. I'm not sure how we convey that to a statue."
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Barbo shakes his head. Of course I learn the languages of the dwarven enemies but not the dwarves themselves. Next time. He ruffles through his bag and mutters to himself. "Hmmmm... Share languages? Nope, not with statues... Comprehend languages? Won't help the chatterboxes..." He then shouts in a loud voice, in common, "Hello, dear guardians! We travel with King Gutheran’s blessing! So... don't do anything you'll regret!" He chuckles and then slaps his hands together. "Aha! I feel him coming back! Jeeves!" He mutters a magic word and an invisible presence snaps into being. "Good! You're back! Slacker, running off at some choking hands!" He mutters something about his old hands then snaps back to the present. "Go over there. No, no reason. Yes, trust me. Totally safe. Good boy. Go." The Unseen Servant runs across the room.
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It does not surprise Smarmy at all, that none of these people have bothered to learn the language of the place they'd come to explore. Though he doesn't comment on it, instead smiling brightly.
"Oh, very clever to think of that." He says brightly. "Though it is more likely that the local language would have been used."
He moves forward slightly. "Here, let me try... though I'm sure you'd get it eventually."
He will speak the phrase in question, about being sent with King Gutheran's blessing, but will say the words in the dwarven tongue.
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Our friendly dwarf doesn't seem to find whatever triggers the gigantic trap.
Both Barbo and Smarmy speak the name of the king, and Jeeves make it across the room in complete safety. He gets to the bottom of the western statue, and ponders about dusting the runes to make himself useful before his master moves towards him, but he just awaits his next command.
With the Plaza safe for the Pathfinders, they cross the hall, and may begin to examine the statue. The legs of the western statue are covered with an archaic form of Dwarven runes.
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Taking notes of the translation provided by Smarmy, with a few pointers by Kitajo, the Pathfinders are ready to continue their exploration.
Once back in the Hall of Hounds, This torch-lit chamber is decorated with extravagant carvings, canine statues and polished pillars. A grotesque statue on the western platform stares toward the eastern door with sparkling gems for eyes and a bronze axe planted firmly in its head.
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Barbo looks to the thin air with a smile. "Yes, you're a good boy. No, I'm not proud of you! You have to do more than cross a room for that!" He marches towards the next room. Upon approach he points towards the statue and says, "We come with King Gutheran's blessing!" Then he looks to his right and nods. "You know the drill. Fetch the axe. If you're strong enough." He rolls his eyes, doubting it.
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The hound statues don't move when Jeeves passes between them, and he removes the bronze axe from the larger toad-like stone. Seeing that the room's defenses are inactive, the group of Pathfinders moves forward, and after making some noise, removing the opals from the Dweller Below is an easy task. Without enough time to place the second eye in a pouch, members of the Jormurdun city guard arrive with weapons drawn.
"Was? Diebe auch? Als ob die hasserfüllten Duergar Eindringlinge nicht genug beleidigen würden! Lassen Sie Ihre Beute fallen und wir ziehen Sie sanft zu Ihren Zellen, wo Kriminelle gehören!