The Maker aggressively shushes you. "Wait until the performance ends!"
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Although Strang has heard of the place, Chabon clearly is far more familiar with the extra-planar establishment, so he is happy to let the Arcanist talk of the place, while he observes it in person.
"Fascinating." He mutters. "A small piece of creative innovation in a city of rigid structure."
He is content to wait for the song to end, before intruding on the inevitable, or anyone else currently enjoying the performance.
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Heccan follows along with the group as the enter the hall. He seems to appreciate the music. He listens to the chatter when he spies the cylinder. Taking Chabon's queue, he engages the inevitable. He speaks to her quietly, as to not disturb others enjoyment of the music. "Well I certainly agree, this city absolutely reeks of stuffiness. So glad to have found a haven in such rigidity. The music almost melts one's soul, don't you agree?"
When the music ends, the Maker applauds enthusiastically--an impressive display with all four of her arms. She turns to you, "I am pleased to meet fellow music lovers. Come, if you'd like to talk, let's go to the courtyard so we don't disturb the other patrons." Her voice is melodic and features more human-like inflections than most of the inevidables you have encountered so far. (In fact, it sounds a bit familiar...but it's hard to place.)
She leads you out into a secluded, well-lit courtyard behind the tavern. "Now, what could bring you here to search me out during my break? I take it this isn't the music appreciation society."
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Heccan laughs audibly at the remark, rearing his head back just a bit to show genuine amusement. "You are very observant my lady. My name is Heccan Abraxi , we have have traveled to this place on an urgent mission at the behest of the Pathfinder Society, a mission that may have dire consequence to reality itself should we fail." Heccan bows his head politely and continues. "A pocket dimension is on the verge of collapse, taking the multiverse with it unless we are able to repair it. The only way that is possible, my lady, is at the hand of its creator, Ho Jin." Heccan eyes the engram. "To be blunt, we must restore her memory, and to do so, we need the portion of which she carries. We need the engram in your possession."
At the mention of your mission, the Maker takes a step back, each of her arms reaching up to grasp at the engram where it is implanted at the base of her neck. "I...I'm not sure why you would need the engram. I credit it with some of my most interesting ideas. It is...precious to me."
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Heccan notes her hesitancy. Relying on his long ago training, he does his best to make her feel at ease. He scrunches his face in a look of sympathetic sorrow. "My word, I had no idea. Please accept my apology, we did not know how important the engram was to you and your work. I would never want to deprive the universe of such beautiful music. What you perform, truly inspired. Masterful. I have no doubt such talent cannot be ascribed to a mere engram. Enhance? certainly, but certainly no substitution for true talent. Alas my lady. If our need was not so truly dire I would never ask for you to part with it. The only thing more terrible than depriving the multiverse of your gift would be that there would be if no audience existed at all to hear it." Heccan bows his head, hopeful he has reached the outsider.
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"As my compatriot has so eloquently said, we would not have asked if it were not an extraplanar emergency." Strang offers, in support. "I'm sure, once we have had a chance to resolve the issue, the engram can be returned to you, so you can finish ... umm... I believe you're working with forging techniques, yes?"
"Definitely very important work, and I'm sure they'll want you back on it." He continues. "And perhaps, it will give you a chance to reflect on what you've learned through a more studied scope for a bit, in the meanwhile."
The Maker, though resistant to Heccan's flattery, is swayed by his arguments and those of Dr. Strang. "Perhaps you are right. I could benefit from some time with a different perspective. As you say, it is only temporary."
The Maker gives you a piercing look, and a bright light kindles behind her eyes for a moment. "Bring the engram back as soon as possible. It is very important to my work." As she speaks, she is momentarily surrounded with a nimbus of fire, and a flash of crimson wings wreathed in flames extends from her back, but the vision disappears so quickly that you are not sure it was there.
The Maker reaches two of her arms up behind her back and snaps out the engram. She seems somehow instantly diminished and she says "Here you have it," in a flat monotone as she hands the engram to Heccan.
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"I think she is taking in a little more of the Ruby Phoenix than they anticipated." Strang will say, his tone thoughtful, once they are away from The Maker. "Though I suppose long-term exposure to such creative urges would not be something Inevitables would normally know how to process properly. So it is not entirely surprising."
He glances over at Heccan, and the engram in his hands, eagerly. "May I take a look?"
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Heccan smiles with satisfaction as the Maker turns over the engram. As soon as he touches the cylinder, his eyes roll back into his head and his balance stumbles. After a few moments, his eyes snap back into focus and he looks about confused and shaken.
"By the laws! Where..." he shakes his head and looks about his fellow agents. The normally verbose sorcerer seems uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He does his best to describe what just happened to him and the things he saw in a vision. After describing his vision, he answers Strang. "By all means doctor, have a look. But be warned, I do not believe this was meant for us mortals to handle lightly."
The Stylite is a vast library that drifts above the city of Axis in mysterious patterns like a stone cloud. It is one of the greatest collections of history and lore in the Great Beyond and is said to contain secret knowledge not even found in the Akashic Record. The guardian at the nearest portal is easily able to direct you to it.
Stepping through the portal, you see a large open plaza comprised of octagonal, glossy black flagstones sits between a small, colonnaded building on one side and the dizzying vista of the Eternal City on the other. The wind whistles sharply over the drop down to the city thousands of feet below. From this vantage point, nearly all the major sites of Axis are spread out below like a pristinely-ordered painting: the tower of the Adamantine Crucible, alight in blue flame, the Grand Market of Abadar near the concentric circles of the golden city of Aktun, the nearly two-thousand-foot-tall Citadel of Resplendent Clockwork that serves as Brigh’s domain, the crystalline Threefold Pillars of the Axiomite Godmind aglow with infinite calculations, and Pharasma’s Spire behind it all, stretching up, seemingly infinite, all the way into the Astral Plane.
Once you enter the building, you find yourselves in a large, semi-circular entrance hall supported by more columns and decorated with a large floor mosaic depicting geometric symbols. Numerous colored balls of light illuminate the room, floating about at random, and a single desk has been placed in the middle of the entrance hall. At it sits a wizened-looking petitioner wearing cream and silver robes. Behind him are four closed steel doors. He does not look up when you walk in.
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Strang gets completely distracted by the view, once they reach the Stylite, as he starts pointing to various points of interest and either listing of things he has learned about them, or pondering on what it might be.
By the time the others manage to drag him along into the building proper, his face is all flush with excitement, and he is breathing a little hard, like he's been running.
The entrance hall seems to finally calm his thirst to know down enough, that he takes a moment to take stock of where they have come... and immediately feels like its somewhere familiar.
"Ah... a proper library." He finally says, smiling. "Even here, they feel the same. I wonder how much access our pins will allow us? Can you imagine the knowledge stored here?"
As if to test that very point, he marches confidently up to the man at the desk, and *coughs* politely to get his attention.
"Greetings." He says, flashing his 'credentials' for emphasis. "We are here on an important legal matter. Could you direct us to where we might find a memory engram that once belonged to the Sorcerer, Hao Jin. It should be stored here somewhere."
The petitioner looks up with a slightly-perturbed expression on his face. "I wasn’t aware of anyone having a scheduled visit today. Who would have ever expected so much chaos in the Perfect City? That prodigious devil overstays his scheduled visitation, and now more mortals wandering in without so much as an appointment!" Though his voice and tone clearly convey his righteous indignation, the petioner's quill never stops scratching away at the tome before him.
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Heccan watches the interaction between Strang and the petitioner. He winces at the attendants gruff manner and steps forward. Placing a hand on Strang, he attempts to soften the awaiting soul's mood. "Indeed. One would expect more from such a place of order surely...if only our need was not so pressing." Forcing himself to smile, he leans slightly toward the petitioner speaking a but hushed to the robed desk attendant "We would never just appear here, unannounced and without proper appointment, without good cause sir. And good cause we have, I assure you. For our business with the engram is on direction from the Empty Court, on highest authority, and it is to save existence itself. For this reason, and only this reason, I implore you, loyal servant of Axis. Grant us passage and take us to the engram of Ho Jin forthwith and allow us to complete our duty, not only to Axis but to the universe itself!" Heccan finishes with a practiced oratory flourish and hopes his words reach the petitioner.
"Yes, while there is one devil, in particular. The Stylite’s main lecture hall is currently occupied by a heresy devil named Beyschosz. He has been using the lecture hall to study a memory engram; however, Beyschosz’s reservation of the lecture hall has long since expired, as has his claim to the memory engram. He’s been here for weeks now, and he only reserved the hall for 24 hours! Unfortunately, I have been unable to convince the aeons responsible for securing the Stylite to remove the devil. Something about it 'not being a priority.' They always listened when Tabris had something to say!"
Re-examining your credentials, he says, “Well now. Well now indeed. It turns out perhaps you do have an appointment after all. The engram you seek is in the possession of that prodigious interloper overstaying his welcome in my lecture hall. If you were to agree to escort him off the premises, I can see to it that the engram is remitted to your possession. Don’t worry, the Stylite won’t allow the devil to take it with him since all receptacles of knowledge here can only be removed with proper authorization.”
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"Not a priority?" Strang mutters... not the first time the denizens of this plane have thrown that phrase out to explain their own failures.
He shakes head.
"Unfortunately, I have not come across these heresy devils before, so can offer no insights there." He adds, with an apologetic shrug.
"Though do wonder what 'escorting them off the premises' entails. I can't imagine open conflict in the Sylite would put us in anyone's good graces." He scowls, as he ponders that particular task.
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"Though do wonder what 'escorting them off the premises' entails. I can't imagine open conflict in the Sylite would put us in anyone's good graces." He scowls, as he ponders that particular task.
"I believe it is this sort of dilemma that necessitated Dravakuul and Felwyn being sent with us. Of course, I don't mind 'persuading' devils one bit." At this, Chabon cracks his knuckles and raises an eyebrow in Dravakuul and Felwyn's direction.
The librarian quickly ushers you to a large door which he opens with a wrought-iron key. “Best of luck now! I’ll be closing the door behind you, just knock three times when you’re ready to leave. Don’t worry if you have to get a little rough with the devil now but make certain that you don’t break anything!”
The lecture hall is dimly lit by sconces set at regular intervals around the room, and its vaulted ceiling stretches 60 feet high. There are four windows set 20 feet above the ground; one on either side of the southwestern corner, one on the northern end of the west wall, and one on the northern corner of the eastern wall. These windows are currently covered by heavy drapes
Sitting behind the podium at the back of the room opposite the entrance is a corpulent devil, attentively studying an engram. When you enter, he looks up and says, “I told that delightfully broken little soul that I’m busy. Did she not pass along the message?”
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Heccan's eyes go wide as Dravakuul's mass increases. "By the laws! That should fit the role perfectly. Now let us see to this fiend."
Heccan approaches the studious heresy devil. "I am afraid not, but he has a message for you. Time to go. You seem a competent fiend and I am certain you have gleaned all you can from that trivial item. I am sure your scheme, whatever that may be, shall carry on forthwith. That mortal trinket can hold no more knowledge that a creature so refined as yourself has already found. So, as I am sure you already know, your presence has become UNLAWFUL, and it is time to set things right."
Heccan folds his arms and pointedly stands so as to put himself between the devil and the large form of Dravakuul behind him.
The bulky demon frowns at the group. "Can't get any peace and quiet around here. Not like the premium libraries in Dis!"
Dark Hellfire gathers round the devil.
~+~Combat Round 1~+~
Dr. Strang
Devil
Heccan
Chabon
Felwyn
Dreggar
Dravakuul
Combat Map
Bold may act
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A little disconcerted that he knows nothing of these creatures, or what they're capable of, Dr. Strang decides its best if his companions engaged it as quickly as possible.
He holds up his staff, and utters a prayer to Anubis, empowering all of the Pathfinders, before floating out over the desks to get clear of the mass of bodies.
"Remember, don't damage the place!" He reminds the others, worried about their self control in their apparent zeal for combat. He did not want to alienate the librarian by damaging the library.
"Ah, call out to your obscure gods. Would Anubis save you from death, or help you on your way?"
The devil speaks three blasphemous words, which drip from his mouth and catch fire, flying across the room at you.
for
for
for
One word streaks past Felwyn, but the others strike Dravakuul and Dreggar with unholy precision.
~+~Combat Round 1 (cont.)~+~
Dr. Strang
Devil
Heccan
Chabon
Felwyn
Dreggar (-38, 6 bleed)
Dravakuul (-27, 6 bleed)
Group Buffs: blessing of fervor
Combat Map
Bold may act
Searing Words (Su) The devil can speak words of torment, giving them shape and sending them streaking toward his enemies as ranged touch attacks. Any good-aligned creature struck by one of these infernal words takes 4d6 points of hellfire damage (half fire, half profane); non-good creatures take half damage. This is a sonic effect.
Dravakuul's blade comes up short of the devil, though Heccan's missiles strike true. Dreggar and Dravakuul both suffer bleed damage on their turns.
~+~Combat Round 2 (cont.)~+~
Dr. Strang
Devil (-15)
Heccan
Chabon
Felwyn
Dreggar (-44, 6 bleed)
Dravakuul (-33, 6 bleed)
~+~Combat Round 3~+~
Dr. Strang
Group Buffs: blessing of fervor
Combat Map
Bold may act
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Dr. Strang ignores the devil's words... not one to engage in banter during conflict. He notices Dreggar and Dravakuul's wounds, and goes into triage mode... though his efforts are hindered a moment later when the dwarf goes invisible.
"Fine then... hemostasis first." He mutters, and holds his staff high, saying a prayer to his god.
Though the energy is weak, it is enough to stop the bleeding, even on the unseen Dreggar.
He then flies to the side of the room, so as to have better access to Felwyn as well.
The devil takes an attack of opportunity on Felwyn.
for
Though the attack connects, the barbarian's damage reduction takes some of the sting off the blow.
To Heccan, the devil replies, "Quite the sorcerer. Let's see how you deal with the Stygian darkness."
The creature squints in concentration, then inky darkness flows from his form and fills the room.
~+~Combat Round 2 (cont.)~+~
Dr. Strang
Devil (-10)
Heccan
Chabon
Felwyn (-5)
Dreggar (-41)
Dravakuul (-30)
Group Buffs: blessing of fervor
Battlefield Conditions: supernatural darkness
Combat Map
Bold may act