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"Uh...we're not really sure what *we* did wrong here. We're just trying to stop the Whispering Tyrant and well, everything is pretty borked? Have you ghosts tried dying recently? Or met any of those psychopomps? Well...don't," Vanyan starts off but really hopes someone better at explaining and making friends speaks up.
Aishe quietly puts a ghost salted bolt in his weapon but he hopes the talkers can avoid this particular battle. He has no quarrel with these ghosts.
He worries about Atium but can do nothing.
Well, Well, Well. The answers to my questions about Orcs and Dwarves can be had right here. I knew Tessinarin was just going to spout pig slop. I get to hear from dear dead dwarves the real story.
So, which of you dropped your mason tools first?
Atium wants to add that he's wondering if it's the same thing as when a viking drops soap in an Ulfen Bathhouse. He'll keep that question quiet right now, maybe asking if the dwarves are a-holes.
"Atium, while your attitude is often questionable, your words are unusually offensive. Why are you saying such things? Perhaps you would like to leave our group?"
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Tessenarin certainly gets the sense that Atium's current attitude is due to some sort of curse lingering o him.
The dwarven soul scoffs. "I do not leave here as I swore an oath. I will not abandon my work here. I have guarded over this shrine for several years, before binding my soul as its eternal guardian."
"What's your work good dwarf. Maybe we have the same goal." Aishe suggests, though he keeps his crossbow handy.
"Oh yeah, we'd free all the undead here from unlife if we could, even you, if you thought it would help," Vanyan agrees.
While the party talks to the Dwarf, Tessenarin nonchalantly walks away from the part and casts Break Enchantment on Atium.
Aishe nods in thanks, happy he doesn't need to shoot the helpful ghost.
He moves on to the Oathkeeper's Shrine after waiting.
”Yes, let’s hope so. We might be able to use the aid,” Vanyan agrees. ”Our companion might be under a curse, is there something you can do about that?”
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Behind this room’s stone altar towers the statue of a stoic male dwarf. One hand is raised as if he were swearing an oath, while his other beckons toward the altar, where rest a warhammer, a stylus, a drinking horn, and a string of metal beads. Inscribed sentences in Dwarven script line the room’s floor and walls, though most are gouged by lines through the text.
Glerhadring was founded on promises to Kols, to Koldukar, and to dwarvenkind. This shrine’s floor and walls are inscribed with over a hundred promises and signatures in Dwarven, each left by a different dwarf committed to the site’s mission. Many reference secondary reasons, such as “To honor my slain sister” or “That I might honor Torag by felling his enemies.” The most unique of these entries reads, “I shall remain where others abandoned, to honor your name and remain true to their forgotten oaths—Tanhild Harskordottir.”
The shrine’s also has a basic ritual that can be performed: a creature addresses Kols, asks him to witness an oath, uses the stylus to trace the oath’s words on the altar, fills the drinking horn, takes a drink, and then pours a quantity of the beverage over the traced words. The words then fade, reappearing inscribed on one of the walls.
Know (Religion)
Vanyan takes his time to examine the altar, and will explain about the weak divine connection.
”If anyone wants to make a true dwarven oath, now is the time.”
Aishe performs the ritual saying, ”In honor of the fallen town of Roslar's Coffer.”
He looks up at the others shrugging, "They should be memorialized somewhere."
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Atium watches everything with some disinterest.
You are wasting your time Aishe Danior. But, I must -begrudgingly - admit that you picked a good place to honor. It wasn't their fault dumb people picked that town to try out an exploding shield shard.
He lookat the Warhammer.
What does the war hammer have to do with this place being holy or making an oath? I am an expert in warhammers. What's the connection?
He looks at Vanyan and Vinas and the others.
Vinas, whose mind has been wandering, snaps back to reality. He mulls over the oath....
"this seems interesting. there are many stories in history about those who take oaths and the greatness it inspires in people."
Tessenarin inscribes words in Skald onto the Altar and follows the proscribed ritual.
"Are you offering these to us?" Vanyan asks, wanting to be sure as he listens. "Do we need to swear an oath for them or something? We don't want to take your holy relics unless...unless...we do need them?"
"I mean, we're here to smite some damn evil and all, but I can't promise we'll succeed."
"Vanyan... what goes into these oaths? What're you talking about?"
Vanyan explains what he knows about the oaths, and tries to think of one of his own.
"You know what? I will trying to rid this place of the undead. I will do that. I am here already, so yeah, I'll bind to that. I'll do my damned best to rid this place of the undead I will," Vanyan looks around to see if others agree that that is a valid and good enough oath.
"C'mon, let's oath up and move out."
"I would agree that seems like a good and worthwhile oath. I too would vow to destroy significant undead threats. Besides, I feel like we have ALREADY done that."
"And we will continue to do so!"
Quiety, Vinas swears a pair of oaths, "Blessed Iomedae and Torag. I swear to devote myself to the destruction of the undead within this place, and to destroy the Prime Evil pulling the strings behind all of this darkness."
Once done he stands, looks at the others, and is ready to move on.
Aishe, not a huge thinker, tries none the less to come up with a different oath. But he fails. He considers something with Atium, but he doesn't have the tools to fix him anyway, so he doubts he'd be able to fulfill such an oath. So he joins the others.
"Ayep. I swear to destroy as many undead as deserve it, and I expect that's most all of them." He thinks a moment, "For Roslar's Coffer."
With oaths being set, Vanyan is ready to go down to the next level. He will hold the Prayer Beads for now, but will offer them about if others wish.
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Atium, in a surly mood, says a couple oaths.
I swear to never follow in my fathers footsteps and heft a forge hammer and crash it against an anvil again. I pledge an oath to give up that life. I left my home for the great wide open and I've become a strong warrior. I've done that. No need to be a duplicate of my father.
He then pulls out the Anvil of the Skyseeker, and drops it to the ground.
I promise to use this for war, and never touch an anvil for the purpose of creation.
He picks up the Oathhammer, slinging the Grayflame across his back.
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Vinas hefts the magical hammer as the group returns to Aishe's rope that descends below. To where the Whispering Tyrant was last seen heading towards.
Six tall pillars support the ceiling of this enormous round room a hundred feet overhead. The columns are slick with water and bear large colonies of phosphorescent fungi that shed dim illumination throughout the room. A profusion of plants grows around the base of each pillar, although most of the plants are stunted or bear gigantic tumors. Toward the rounded chamber’s eastern end stands a small stone cathedral stained by centuries of mildew.
"I suggest we examine this room first before checking any side halls."
Aishe, crossbow ready, follows Vinas. He checks the door for traps, and generally for tracks just as a habit.
Vanyan floats along, behind the goon squad, and keeps his eyes open for danger. He eyes the plants wearily while using his deeper darkness sight to probe the high ceilings.
Perception
Know (Nature)
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The carnivorous plants growing here eke out enough light from the phosphorescent fungi to photosynthesize, and they secure most of their nutrients from the abundance of cockroaches, flies, moths, and other insects that manifest as a sign of Baalzebul’s unholy blessing.
Vinas moves further in and opens the door to the Gluttonous Sanctuary. Half soaring temple, half feast hall, this structure has delicately arching walls covered in ivy relief carvings that are pristine near the ceiling but erode as they approach the floor. Two long banquet tables support an array of delicacies including pastries, candied fruits, savory meat, cheeses, decanters of wine, and more. The interior eastern wall bears three broad, circular alcoves that each contain a clearly demarcated circle inscribed in the floor.
With doorways opening to the north, west, and south, this sanctuary both celebrates the goddess Urgathoa’s power and provides easy access to Glerhadring and the wings of Fallowdeep. The three alcoves each contain a permanent teleportation circle (CL 20th) outlined clearly to avoid accidental transportation. Currently the north circle leads to the Gallowgarden, just outside the ruins of Gallowspire, whereas the central and south circles each travel to different points about 30 miles northeast of Absalom, in the blasted and war-torn region known as the Cairnlands.
The daughter of Urgathoa Lyanthari presides here, patiently waiting and confident that the Whispering Tyrant grinds his teeth in frustration that his reinforcements haven’t arrived. With her are two loyal vampire bodyguards who lounge about and intermittently eat delicacies from the banquet.
Lyanthari seems a bit surprised not to see The Whispering Tyrant's army as the door opens. "Well, this seems like a pleasant surprise. Please have a seat, let's eat and speak for a moment." She holds a hand out to the open bench beside the vampiric bodyguards. "Oh, don't worry they won't hurt you."
Vanyan probably won't waste a lot of breath on those therein, but will fly up and take a look and see what he thinks of those who would serve the Whispering Tyrant.
Know (Rel) - Lyanthari
Know (Rel) - vamps
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Quietly, Vinas whispers, "I'm tired of letting evil go." He looks at Vanyan and slides to the side juuust a bit, so he's not in the doorway. He turns and nods. His meaning is clear, Bring them death
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Vanyan shrugs, and chooses some choice words to utter...and those words happen to be what some barbarians people would call mumbo-jumbo gibberish, and others would call 'infused words of power'.
"Here comes the Sun, dee-dee-Die-Die, here comes the sun..." Vanyan rolls out the holiest fire. He slathers the area in cleansing fire.
fire damage
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Vanyan recognizes Lyanthari as an Inquisitive Daughter of Urgathoa, a very large undead with scythes for hands. They are known to carry the bubonic plague with them.
While the other two are Vampires, resistant to weapons unless forged from silver and magic. They are also quite resistant to cold and electricity, though direct sunlight is quite deadly.
Vinas gives the nod allowing Vanyan into the room where he sends twin pillars of rotating flames about the room.
One of the vampires rolls underneath the bench avoiding the flames entirely while the second one isn't quite as quick and ends up catching fire.
Lyanthari holds her scythed hands out in peace as she seems a bit annoyed. "Stop this nonsense. Here I thought you were against the Whispering Tyrant and not with him. Or are you like those Pathfinders and Aspis group, out to kill everything that stands in your way." She glances at Vanyan's broken wayfinder.
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BOLD: GO!:
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Lyanthari
➤ Aishe │
➤ Tessenarin │
➤ Vinas │
Vampire (Red)
Vampire (Green)
Atium │
Vanyan │
Vanyan looks at Vinas and shrugs. He is clearly confused.
What in the name of Iomedae is this s%%%?
Tessanerin looks at Lyantharni.
"only one of us is a Pathfinder, we are no friends of the Tyrant. Are you here opposing him?"
Tessenarin chooses not to attack this turn.
"What? He is my enemy! I am a paladin of Iomedae! What is this?"
fire damage
"Nope. I can speak from out here. I can also blast the s~~& out of you again from out here. Speak if you want to speak. I can hear you."
Vinas focuses his senses to check for evil....
Aishe too remains where he is, but he also refrains from attacking for now.
He doesn't trust them, but he's willing to listen.
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"So be it." Lyanthari sighs as she begins to explain. "These portals I guard behind me are what you seek." SHe points to the three finally resting on the center one. "This one leads 30 miles northeast of Absalom, in the blasted and war-torn region known as the Cairnlands. The Whispering Tyrant just went through there not long ago." She sits at the table grabbing an apple in her open hand. The second it leaves the table the apple decays but looks to still taste the same. "Do you intend to put a stop to him?" She asks curiously.
Vinas of course senses evil among the trio, but Aishe senses that the Daughter of Urgathoa doesn't seem to be lying.
"I don't believe you are lying, but you are the embodiment of much of what we fight. Why should we trust you at our backs?" he asks simply, still keyed up and ready for battle.
"Well, yes, of course we do. Are you saying you are not aligned with him?"
Vinas too stands ready for battle, and takes not a seat. "I have pledged to destroy the Tyrant. While I do not ascribe to the notion that the enemy of my enemy is a friend.... I will not lose sight of my strategy for a tactical victory."
... "You have one chance to save yourselves from righteousness. Speak clearly and objectively."
Vanyan waits to hear a response, trusting in Vinas’ instincts on the matter of what to do.
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"Is there anything I can possibly say that would make you believe me. As you have said, you are out to destroy all undead, no matter their circumstance."
She leans on the table. "I shall tell you a short story of the Tyrant. One you may not be aware of. I was born in the early years of the 9th Century in golden Kestrillon. My family had little but I was invited to join the Golden Disciples, a heretical offshoot of the Prophets of Kalistrade. I delighted in their lavish feasts and extravagant parties, and soon realized my urges originated from none other than Urgathoa, the Pallid Princess herself. Soon her lovely whispers led to my first true test of faith, I did not balk, and poisoned my mentors’ next feast." She reaches down for a portion of a turkey leg as it withers upon leaving the table.
"Omens soon led me to a powerful and upcoming necromancer. A man named Tar-Baphon. He had mustered an army to conquer central Avistan, and I helped guide his necromantic research toward lichdom and provided key intelligence in the conquest of Kestrillon. For all of my master’s narcissism, I still admired Tar-Baphon and considered his undead ascension my life’s mission. When Aroden arrived I fought alongside Tar-Baphon and ultimately fell to the Last Azlanti's blade. In those final moments I witnessed Tar-Baphon being struck down and smiled, knowing that his death at the hand of a God was the final step in his ascension as an invincible lich."
She frowns a bit. "However, I too achieved immortality for Urgathoa rewarded my devotion by reanimating me as one of the rare daughters of Urgathoa. My over two millennia I wandered Avistan working Urgathoa’s
will. When I felt Tar-Baphon reawaken as a lich I found and congratulated him on receiving Urgathoa's blessing." She sneers deeper. "He laughed it off and dismissed her role in his transformation, all the while relying on his own power to conquer Avistan."
"As you know he failed. In his final days he blamed his own failings on Urgathoa and cast me aside. Mere months ago I felt him free himself from Gallowspire and moved to rejoin him. I had hoped that centuries of imprisonment had rid him of his hubris. Instead he has only grown more egotistical, reveling in having destroyed Gallowspire himself."
"I am in charge of mustering his forces. I alone am in charge of these portals he remains behind and needs to conquer Avistan. The Whispering Tyrant’s blasphemous vanity requires a reminder of who is truly in charge: Urgathoa."