DM Delmoth's Planescape

Game Master Delmoth

You may be confusing Modrons and Aphrorites. Not certain how but to be fair both are from Mechanus. Centaurs are cousins of bauier in a fashion so cheers.

Jek laughs. "No they are not, but point taken."

”Would you kindly take this burden from me?”

"Certainly." He reaches out delicately with his large hands to receive the ornate hookah. "There's always room somewhere. Do you need this delivered?" He turns it slowly while admiring its features. "Wonderful repairs too..."

Rinika rolls her eyes at the Lillend's approval of Nansi but bites her tongue when the snake lady ends up giving them useful Intel. And a path to my heart's desire?! But... She reaches up and pats Nansi, for her own reassurance. "Glad you can join us after all," she whispers.

She cocks her head to the side and really takes in the others who appear to be joining their little group. Mechanicals were so often sooo boring, but she liked a few. And this one did have some really good taste. Maybe he'd be more fun than expected.

Then there was the big lady. She already looked fun. And more importantly... "What gifts did you bring me? Are they as big as you are? Why are you so big? Do you have trouble with doors? Are all the doors where you're from big too? Do you have big food? What do you eat? Where did your legs go?"

As the rest of the party talks with the new arrivals, Khikril pulls a journal from his backpack, stepping back to get a better view of the eclectic group - his head jerking up and down as he looks between his notes and the tableau in front of him, he draws a sketch of the silver gateway to the Infinite Staircase. His diagram finished, he approaches the gate again, squeezing between Xibalba and the lillend to enter the Staircase itself, peering up from the terminus into the maze of branching stairways extending upwards towards eternity. After a moment, he turns back to the lillend, his pen hovering over the page of his journal. "Tell me, do you know how far up it goes? I mean, from the name, I would assume it is infinite or functionally so, but what's the farthest anyone's ever explored? Do you know?"

Enoch's blue metallic eyes follow the Stryx' movements with some interest. The Chronicler of Worlds nods in appreciation of Khikril's journal usage, along with his line of inquiry. Enoch excitedly digs his journal out and hurriedly shadows his contemporary.
Mind if we compare notes during our trek? My Supervisor granted me the privilege of cataloging the Infinite Staircase. I figured two eyes are better than one. Although a Dirindi corrected me on that saying once...

The Aphrorite did notice that the excitable Amurun also has an inquiring disposition.

"Oh! You putting a travelogue together? I don't know many places we'll, but I'm pretty familiar with the Cage itself! As of the past year or two at least."

Rinika reaches a paw into a very small pocket and pulls out a large, very ratty, dog-eared, annotated book that reads Kylie's RINIKA'S Big Guide to Sigil, with numerous pages added from various sources.

"I fancied myself a Tout for a spell, but I've found better money elsewhere."

"This one accepts a Lillend's decision. Gratitude to thee for sheperding us safely. "

The Djinni turns to Jek, and claps in excitement.
"A new master has a keenly aesthetic eye. The shisha is this one's home, prison, & promise in one. A contemptuous Salamander tried to destroy it but a Djinn has many skilled friends. No doubt tha is also righteous of heart to have gained Tunglsgeisli's respect in such a brief time. Xibalba is honored to have tha as wishwarden, if tha finds such a prospect acceptable. "

Xibalba acknowledges Rinika's interrogation bemused before leaning forward. "Well, this one could asken why is tha so short? But one can briefly save the strain of a catling's neck-" Xibalba stands up as her form diminishes, shrinking down, down, down, until she is no longer towering, but a still formidable six feet tall.
Reduce person on self via Efreeti's magic.

"A Djinn does not eat, but can. Nor does she need legs, so in times of flight they turn into so much smoke. For us, size and form is fluid, so doors are more a suggestion" She then demonstrates her intangibility by passing through a nearby silvery pillar, coming out the other side intact and smiling.

"Xibalba offers the gift of wishcraft. Holders of the hookah can extend wishing to others, like thee. A heart’s desire delivered, but not as permanently as the stair’s path might bestow…yet. A wish a day as best a genie’s magic can manage...with conditions."

"Oh, hey, I write things too!" Jek proudly produces his list of possible nicknames.

"The shisha is this one's home, prison, & promise in one. ... Xibalba is honored to have tha as wishwarden, if tha finds such a prospect acceptable. "

Jek blinks several times as his mind attempts to process this information. "I'll help you however I can and would be happy to guard your lovely home. Welcome to our group." He thinks some more, gets closer, and whispers "Please don't remind anyone, but I've sworn to guard and assist spellslingers... so... you're no prisoner. I serve you too, alright? Oh, and Nik and Rinika are spellslingers... so feel free to help me help them if you like. I'm not sure about Skee and Enoch yet. We're all friends, so please 'extend wishing' to any of us as you see fit."

Also, because apparently I forgot to describe Nik:

Nik is a gaunt human looking fellow; he is unnaturally pale, but not albino. His gray eyes almost match his deathly pallor. He is wearing goggles with jewel lenses; beige pants and a brown shirt, each with their own unidentifiable stains on them; and an ample brown cloak. He has a quiver and heavy darkwood crossbow on his back, as well as a pair of moderately sized books hanging from his belt near a sheathed dagger.
A pair of four armed people follow him around. They seem simply dressed and, very oddly, smell of wildflowers.

Nik reaches over to the hookah.

"Lovely home? Mind if I take a look?" the curious necromancer asks.

The Aphrorite glances up from his journaling to shine his metallic blue eyes at Rinika.
Travelogue? Yes, quite right. Well said, my curious Amurun.

Enoch calls out at the departing Lillend!
Could you relay to us the language of the Infinite Staircase? For research purposes of course. Something of a Linguist, I am.

The Chronicler of Worlds smiles in appreciation of Jek 's humor.

The Bard whispers back
I am well versed in the arcane arts.

Enoch then begins preparing a document written in the language of the culture to be emulated.....
Cultural Adaptation

He will do this at every port of call...lol. He currently knows 30 Languages.

oooh, would that spell help with telling the lillend a joke? XD

"Mind if we compare notes during our trek? My Supervisor granted me the privilege of cataloging the Infinite Staircase. I figured two eyes are better than one. Although a Dirindi corrected me on that saying once..."

Khikril grins at the metallic man, tapping his journal with one clawed finger. "The planes are vast, and full of wonders. I've had the privilege to see many of them, but I'll never see them all, especially with the few years available to an itaraak - that's my kind. I write down what I see in this journal so in the next cycle, I'll be able to experience this wonder, even once I've lost my memories." He nods at Enoch's similar notebook, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. "Is yours something similar, I wonder? Proof against the future? If so, you're wiser than I thought."

The Lillend gives Enoch a mirthful chuckle as he derisively comments on his home plane. She allows the entire group to pass onto the Stairs. She speaks in Celestial though everyone understands her, "There is no one language that you find on the Infinite Staircase, though the Planewalkers Guild favors Planar Trade." Common, you can cultural adapt to Planewalkers guild before you get there if you like.

Nansi clicks and whirrs in the clockwork language of its people,

The bottom of the Infinite Staircase is a large, 200ft diameter circular chamber. The room rises up like a shaft as far as anyone can see, with a singular spiral staircase made of silver winding up the center, seemingly unsupported except at the base. Green tendrils of ivy hang from the silver stair at irregular intervals. When you examine the ivy you have trouble determining where the vines originates, climbing ever upward with no root in sight.

As you ascend you encounter many landings and doors which vary in size and composition. Many are small, only big enough for a single door and one or two adjoining stairs. Others are huge, so large that a body can can't even lay eyes on the entire landing at once. Some landings have are dead-ends with only a door and no continuing staircase. Every landing has at least one door.

We'll move onto the Planewlaker's Guild tomorrow, probably.

Rinika eyes pop at the prospect of daily wishes, but soon she's eyeing Enoch suspiciously and cradling Nansi protectively. She whispers, "Of course, little guy. He'd be a fool to take up arms against an anointed knight of the cross trade!" She straightens up from the defensive posture with a flourish and Nansi is nowhere to be found, spirited away into one of her many pockets with a slip of the paw.

The catfolk trots over to the stairs and takes a few steps up, each step shedding a bit of her cynical glower as wonder intensifies in her eyes. A few steps up, she takes a chances and flaps a few tentative inches above the staircase on her wings of shadow, testing out the prohibition on flying off of them.

Enoch bows low to the Lillend. His blue metallic eyes shine in gratitude for her favor.
If Enoch the Wanderer may assist you in an endeavor in the future please call. I have suspicions that my assignment may take a bit of overtime.

The Aphrorite doesn't even glance at Nansi, as she expounds upon her fears. The Bard only assumes a non-threatening pose. Leaning all casual like against the Infinite Staircase bottom rail, the Aphrorite studiously writes in his Travelogue.....

Enoch does smiles broadly at Khikril, toasting his quill to the Stryx'.
Each of us have been given talents that others may not excel at. Perception is an illusion.

The Bard gestures at Nik.
Take our necromatically inclined Peri-blooded Assamir. Most Emberkin are red haired and bronzed skinned. Book, cover and all that.

The Aphrorite winks at Rinika.

Nik stops trying to read the hookah and straightens up at Enoch's comment, matching Xibalba's height.

"Yeah I'm good at making new friends and I'm a little pale." the incredibly pale Nik explains.

Nik scratches his cheek before deciding that the not-a-box-person wasn't picking a fight.

He turns to the no longer quite so large Djinn.
"This- er- Xibalba? You don't mind if I read your home, right? Ooh- what if I wish I could read your home? I wish I had permission to read your home...'s inscription." Nik says, taking a moment to remember how grammer and that wishes don't always go right.

Perception is an illusion.

"You might like Signer lectures. That comes up a lot."

As Nik begins prying about the hookah, Jek does his best to defer to Xibalba while holding it securely.

"Nik, be polite. This is hers, and friends don't give friends orders." Jek states firmly. "I'm sure everyone wants something. So if you're jumpy, let's all talk about it like friends."

"-We're all friends, so please 'extend wishing' to any of us as you see fit."

Xibalba nods at Jek's words. She places her palms together, elbows out and whispers in an overly eager but thoughtful tone.

"Friend? Equitable wardens are so raresome...Hmmm. Agreed, an acordaunt is maden betwixt us as comrades. " She shakes his hand with her own jewel laden one to seal the partnership. "This one pledges by the Maidens of Mist, Master's mysteries will never leaven these lips."

She finishes with a finger-snap towards Nik as he wishes, just before Jek chastises him.

Silent Image.

Eyes aglow, she traces her finger in the air as small smoldering script flows out like a pen made of fire ink, suspened before Nik. The words mirror those on her Hookah but translated to common.

"Gratitude, Master Jek for taking tha role as warden seriouswise. Tho, consent is given without vex, Flame-kin Nik."

The djinn follows the others onto the platform and up the stairs when they see fit, sticking close to the center of the group to chat. Her large size returns shortly there after.

Enoch nods with graciousness to Nik. The Aphrorite studiously finishes his materials for Cultural Adaptation and then the Bard casts it.

A bit intrigued by Hookah Script and all that it entails, the Chronicler of Worlds almost claps as Xibalba enhances it for all to enjoy! Enoch's hands hastily scribble.....
Absolutely fascinating! A real live djinn! My Supervisor would be so jealous! Sucka! Desk jockey anyway.

Prior to embarking on such a joyous experience, the Bard casts Message on each of those participants.
He will recast it every 110 minutes.

Enoch excitedly steps on the initial stair of The Infinite Staircase....

When nothing happens, the Aphrorite begins ascending, periodically penning pleasant perceptions....

"Right. Sorry Jek, I got excited. You explained before: "friends aren't shamblers". I get it. Also, thanks Xibalba. I'll try not to be too greedy." Nik replies.

He scratches his cheek, trying not to experiment with Xibalba's abilities (and patience).

As the motley group ascends the Staircase, Khikril flits back and forth, rushing further up the stairs to get a look around a landing or falling behind to get a sketch of the ethereal view from off the edge of the Staircase. When not rushing up and down the stairs, he eagerly talks with his newfound allies, trying to find out more about them. "So tell me, from where do you hail? I'm prime-born myself - though I've certainly lived in Sigil long enough to know the dark of most things!" Another burst of the strange screeching laughter follows this statement. "So what of you? I think Nik was from some other prime world, correct? A great deal more beautiful than my home world Verces, from what you said."

"Right. Sorry Jek, I got excited. You explained before: "friends aren't shamblers". I get it. Also, thanks Xibalba. I'll try not to be too greedy." Nik replies.

Jek smiles and gives Nik a side-hug. "Great! I'm a bit excited too."

"Xibalba, who are the Maidens of Mist you mentioned?"

Also, thanks Xibalba. I'll try not to be too greedy.

The Djinn smirks and underlines the floating word ‘greedy’ with her finger before dismissing the illusion with a wave. She gives a flourishy bow to Enoch’s excited outburst and turns to Skeessannak'khikril.

So what of you?

“Tha has the great Xibalba at disadvantage. Outside of books and tales, only the plane of fire is well known to us. Forbidden to leaven by a master now long gone, a woesome tale best not indulged. Tha speaks of visiting so many other planes, but does tha have a favorite? Does tha miss Verces? “

She whispers back to Jek, but only to exclude any being listening outside the party.

Xibalba, who are the Maidens of Mist you mentioned?"

“Illusionists and retainers of secrets who seek keys to the cage of mortal existence. A collective of dreamwalkers inspired by the former Maiden of Mist, whose gaze pierced any veil and parted all fog. Siblings in cause, sworn to guide fantasists along the path of ambition and realization of the self. This one asks, ‘What is a wish if not a rejection of reality?’ “

Six hours of climbing later

You begin to hear the low murmur of a group of people long before you catch sight of the Planeswalker’s guild. You approach the camp from above descending a set of stairs hewn from some kind of swirling red and green marble. As you enter the kip of this strange guild you spy a number of different types of tents, buildings (of varying permanency), and camps. All manner of food cooked over open fires, beer brews in a vats and cauldrons, and individuals of a wide assortment of cleanliness, chatter, work with noisy tools, and even sing songs of distant places. The landing is quite large and you cannot see the far edge

There’s a gather information check to locate Oriam Trascalia

Rinika gives her group a lazy wave and follows her nose into the camp, melting into the crowd and flitting from cookfire to cookfire, nipping a steaming lump of roast beast here, a crackling leg of some delicious fowl there, emptying a foaming mug from the shadows like she's been here at the camp the whole time, and asking around the motley Planeswalkers with every step.

"News from the City of Brass?"

"Hey are there any peppers in that chili?"

"You seen Trascalia around?"

"The baatezus or the tanar'ri winning this week?"

"Hand me another one of those, will ya? I'm hungry as a gannet. Oh, you want some more of this one? Sure - does the name Schrodinger mean anything to you? Oriam was asking about him, haven't seen 'im have ya?"

"Do I smell dumplings?"

"Know where I could get my umbrellas oiled around here?"

"I...I think I ate too much, where's the latrine?"

Gather info + Enhanced Diplomacy: 1d20 + 19 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 19 + 2 = 35
Time Taken, hrs (inquisitive banter): 1d2 ⇒ 1

When she meets back up with the group, her pockets are full of fresh hot treats and fresher hotter gossip.

Ascending the Staircase

"Tha has the great Xibalba at disadvantage. Outside of books and tales, only the plane of fire is well known to us. Forbidden to leaven by a master now long gone, a woesome tale best not indulged. Tha speaks of visiting so many other planes, but does tha have a favorite? Does tha miss Verces?"

Khikril grins, the translucent membranes flicking across his eyes in a sideways blink. "Kruanaiq zririekiet, such a shame to have never seen the wonders of Arborea, my friend! It is a beautiful plane - I was only there once, for a colleague's funeral - Nik, you remember Usk, the old head of the Records Divison, right? - but it is someplace I would dearly like to revisit before I die. The air is so clear there - mountains stretching a hundred thousand wingspans to the sky, valleys that reach down into the depths of the earth, oceans that it would take a full cycle to fly over... krevaar, you just have to see it to believe it!"

As the topic turns to Verces, however, the avian's smile vanishes abruptly, and he shudders, his wings wrapping around his lean form. "I can't say I've ever missed my world, to be honest. It's a desolate waste, covered in every direction with ice. The sun never shines there, you know - there's no light, no warmth... and no hope. I took shelter in a cave during an ice-storm, tried to cover myself with a cloak I found on a corpse - as it turned out, the clasp on the cloak was a gate-key, because next thing I knew, there I was in the Hive District, a shivering bundle of feathers wrapped in a dead man's cloak. I found an apprenticeship with a tailor, eventually got into the Dustmen, and haven't looked back since." His head turns to look at Xibalba, considering the strange genie. "You said you were from the Plane of Fire? My tribe suffered for lack of light and warmth, while your home is blasted by an abundance of the same. Funny how the planes work out sometimes, isn't it?"

Planeswalker's Guild

As the Guild's encampment comes into view, Khikril's ebony eyes go wide with excitement. "Go on, my friends - I'll catch up in a minute!" Drawing his journal again, he spends a minute or so making another sketch of the encampment stretching out before him - then, with a whoop of excitement, he launches himself off his current position, flying past the rest of his party in a spiraling dive in his haste to reach the bottom as fast as his wings can take him.

Once in the camp proper, he begins to explore much like Rinika, though his avenues of inquiry are decidedly more... unfocused. After a few minutes, he is thoroughly sidetracked with one of the first explorers he came across, frantically taking down notes as the human expounds on his journey into the Beastlands. The explorer shortly grows tired of his complicated questions about taxonomy and physiology cutting into his tale of heroism and adventure, quickly handing the excitable strix off to the first person he sees.

Busily brushing his quill across his journal, the Chronicler of Worlds smiles at the sounds of revelry, revelations, and ready to receive recipients.

Blue metallic eyes follow the excited Amurun and Itarii fly far off into the landscape. The Aphrorite smiles. Taking a casual seat on the middle steps of the descending swirling red and green marble Staircase, Enoch begins cataloging his wondrous perspective of the Plane Walkers Guild.....

Now comes the tough part. Jek surveys the crowd trying to figure out where to start searching for the delivery target. Every now and again his eyes stumble upon Rinika flitting about between people at an incredible pace. I think she's got this one... I'll just wait here.

He walks alongside Enoch and makes several attempts at cushing before finding a very contorted position for his legs that account for the stairs while still being comfortable-ish. He tries to take a subtle peek at the journal...

Stealth?: 1d20 - 5 ⇒ (4) - 5 = -1

Enoch's blue metallic eyes follow the movements of the Brauier, as he writes. The Aphrorite does indeed attempt to make the Staircase a bit more amendable for Jek. After a few moments of them scooting, standing, pacing, sitting, standing again and looking at the other, Enoch begins laughing.
Perhaps we attempt to find a proper place to placate our buttocks? There seems to be a bit of a clearance at the landing proper. Shall we?

Enoch also allows the Cavalier to read anything he wants inside his journal. The writing is consistent with his pronounced reasons for being here.

Rinika’s probing eventually turns up the chant on Trascalia, despite the stern gaze of a minotaur occasionally falling on her. Nearly everyone knows about the basher; he's an elderly spellslinger that doesn’t get up to exploring much anymore but no one has seen him for a couple of days.

Finally a tiefling with large fan-like ears named Caert has something more useful, ”Yeah I know the graybeard, and his ex Shavanistra. She never gave me the jink for a job she had me do a few months ago, but she’s more trouble than it's worth to make her pay the music. She might know where he’s got lost to, but lemme warn you she has some stability problems. She bangs around the Blue Mushroom area.”

Rinika is able to find more about the Blue Mushroom area on the underside of the stairs and platforms tiny blue mushrooms grow, it’s speculated that a spell or magic item went awry and now they grow there because of it. She also learns from a bariaur name Ghiaridonna that her friend Jardon was headed in that direction to use a doorway there and is a few days late from returning. Additionally a flautist tells her that he’s heard from an lillend that there was some sort of disturbance in that area.

Rinika also has secured directions.

Nik decides to let Rinika handle the searching, asking around was her thing. He turns to Khikril in time to see him wander off, and gives up on that avenue for spending his time.
He eventually settles on joining Jek and Enoch on the stairs, failing to convince Jek to just let the shamblers hold up on end of him.

He waves at Rinika when she returns with the scoop.

Unrelated: I forgot to tick down the meta magic rod to bump up the duration of the Appearance of Life (a second time) to "all day" per the house rules for spell duration (available in WotR but not here, for now...).
Anyway, I fixed it:

Some time before Rinika returns with the desired information, Khikril returns to the group, swooping low over the tents of the Guild encampment before landing near where Xibalba stands, the strange alchemist's customary broad grin plastered on his face as he addresses his newfound allies. "Isn't this place exciting, my friends? Just think, this Staircase connects to everywhere interesting - that is, everywhere that creativity can flourish, everywhere where the mental cogwheels of imagination spin freely. And this guild is dedicated to exploring it! Every day, they venture out into the unknown, traveling to worlds of endless wonder and terror, knowing they will never explore even a fraction of a percentage of infinity, even if they work for ten thousand cycles." The clacking of his talons against the stone landing stops as the excitable strix stops his frenetic pacing, spreading his arms and wings wide to take in the maze of stairwells that surround them. "My friends, this is the last frontier!"

After finishing, Khikril rounds on Xibalba, his journal open to a page filled with half-finished sketches and rambling, partially-crazed theories. "So tell me, Xibalba - you precede me on the Staircase by an indeterminate length of time, yes? I would like your opinion on something. The Staircase connects to every world where creativity exists, correct? Yet this place, this fundamental confluence of reality, it takes the form of a flight of stairs, a typically artificial object, generally created by the types of societies it links to. Given this, do you think that this connection forms due to some sort of shared societal archetype, some ingrained yearning for the unknown and the fantastical, some belief in a kind of nexus that serves as a waypoint for the infinite worlds? If so, do you think that the link to the Staircase is formed by some facet of this zeitgeist, or does the Staircase link exist a priori, with the societies that grow up around it creating the archetype of the 'nexus to many worlds' based on the intangible influence of the existing Staircase link?" The itaraak looks expectantly at the djinn, his pen hovering over his notebook as he awaits a response to his esoteric and largely incomprehensible query.

Rinika saunters back to the group and gives them the dirt as she distributes goodies.

"Trascalia ain't been seen for a few days." She pulls an empanada out of a pocket and passes it to Nik.

"He's retired, sounds like everyone knows him but no one cares enough to track him down themself." A wet sack of an oily spiced cucumber-tomato salad out of another pocket for Jek.

"An old lover of his might know more, but she might be a little unhinged and it might be a little messy between 'em..." With some uncertainty, she hands a large loaf of a sweetened bread to Xibalba, pulling it out of yet another pocket that definitely was not large enough for the loaf.

"She's over by the Blue Mushrooms, which we can get to if we walk through the Inner Planes Enclaves, they're the ones with those little round flags, and carry on spinward for a ways." With even less certainty, she produces a mug full of spiced oil that appears to be squeezed from the cucumber-tomato salad and hands it to Enoch.

"The Blue Mushrooms are gonna be trouble though, there're been some dust-ups there, and they're on the bottom of this platform. So it might be on us first," She motions to Khikril and pushes a pawful of loose grains and a few wriggling grubs feeding on those loose grains into his hands, "unless we can transfer and walk on the bottom. Probably gonna be tricky, so we're gonna earn that jink."

"Ready to go?"

She'll lead the group towards the mushroom woods once they're ready to go.

There seems to be a bit of a clearance at the landing proper. Shall we?

Enoch also allows the Cavalier to read anything he wants inside his journal. The writing is consistent with his pronounced reasons for being here.

Jek follows Enoch down to the platform for a better cush and asks him to share his favorite passages. It had been a while since his last story time, and he happily reads along while asking about the more complicated words.

A wet sack of an oily spiced cucumber-tomato salad out of another pocket for Jek.

The bariaur's eyes light up as he looks inside the dripping sack. He wastes no time and shoves his head into it.

"Probably gonna be tricky, so we're gonna earn that jink."

"Ready to go?"

The muffled sounds of munching inside the sack briefly pause for an unrecognizable response and then the munching resumes.

It's a desolate waste, covered in every direction with ice.

Xibalba's excitement at his story of an expansive alien world turns to concern as he lays out his history before her. She places a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he tells it.

"Such a sorrowsome tale. Tha has seen true hardship. It was not a Djinn's intent to harm with a question of one's cursedly home. Let us only speaken of sky blue worlds!"

Funny how the planes work out sometimes, isn't it?"

She nods as he mentions the humor behind their origins.

Planeswalker Guild

Xibalba balks at the crowds, stunned by the melting pot of cultures and every shape and variety of person. Surely there was room here for a Djinn? Xibalba sits with Master Jek and people-watches. Lamp life always left her a bit claustrophobic so she decides to give herself more space.

Aler-Self via Greater Shape change

Xibalba suddenly reduces to a quarter size, taking on the appearance of a halfling. Large rounder ears and smaller frame but still Xibalba nonetheless. She stretches, kicking her embiggened feet off the steps, indulging in all the new leg room afforded to her.

...his notebook as he awaits a response to his esoteric and largely incomprehensible query.

While Enoch tells his stories, she initiates her daily meditation, leisurely partaking of her hooka and floating just an inch or two off the platform. When Khikril returns with an onslaught of questions and theory after theory, she cranes her neck and lends an ear for as long as she's able. She even holds her breath at one point to see if she can outlast his elaborate inquiry.

Silent Image

"Such sturdiness belies an ancient nature. This one would suppose the stairs were the first of ALL things, akin to a tree of mythlore, and each world a leaf?"

she hands a large loaf of a sweetened bread to Xibalba

Hoping this wild guess would satisfy him, Xibalba takes the now large offering of bread from Rinika with a gracious nod, savoring it slowly. It's the first piece of food she's had in what feels like an age. She offers the hookah hose in return, tuning in to the talk of blue spores.

....The primary inhabitants of the perfect city of Axis are the race known as axiomites...whose primary focus is to serve Axis in one of three ways: the construction and tending of inevitables, the expansion and maintenance of the city itself, and exploring and calculating the laws and constants that underpin all reality in hopes of using this knowledge to bring order to the Great Beyond....

Enoch smiles at Xibalba, as the wondrous djinn joins the pair.

...but unfortunately they are not the greatest diplomatically inclined ancestry. That's where Aphrorites come in! They created us!

The Aphrorite grins
Infused with a spark of mortality and the influence of the Material Plane, aphorites were created to serve as diplomats, translators, and envoys between the axiomites and the myriad cultures of the countless Material Plane worlds.

Enoch then chuckles.
In reality the apple doesn't fall that far from the tree. Most Aphrorites are just as... stubborn as Axomites. Present company notwithstanding.

Pausing once Rinika returns from her foray into the hustle and bustle of the Planes Walkers Guild, the Chronicler of Worlds graciously accepts the mug full of spiced oil that appears to be squeezed from the cucumber-tomato salad.
Very aromatic. Jek share some salad for a bit of dressing?

"Thanks." Nik manages while eyeing the empanada recently shoved into his hands.

He gives it a sniff and then a few bites while Rinika explains everything.

"If it's dangerous we can have my sha- er- minders go first." Nik says, waving the half-eaten empanada at the two illusion cloaked shamblers.

Then he remembers the golem as he sees it behind the quite-stoic-but-not-undead looking shamblers.

"Or Skee's minder." he adds.

Nik lets Rinika lead the way.

"Such a sorrowsome tale. Tha has seen true hardship. It was not a Djinn's intent to harm with a question of one's cursedly home. Let us only speaken of sky blue worlds!"

Khikril grins. "Oh, there's nothing to worry about! I think of Verces constantly - and every time I do, I move a little farther out into the planes. The past is the past - there's nothing for me back on my world, so why shouldn't I go out into the vastness between worlds, try to see what's out there? I tell you, though, Arborea aside, there's nothing quite the Plane of Air. Vast, open skies, crisp air - it's beautiful. I fly out there with Kiriaww - she's a special friend of mine - every so often, just to enjoy it." His omnipresent grin widens as he stretches his wings, closing his eyes as he imagines turning and wheeling in the air of the Elemental Plane thereof. "The breeze in my face, the sun on my wings... it's truly exhilarating. And don't even get me started on storm-riding! There is no feeling in all the planes quite like catching the winds at the very edge of a great storm, borne aloft by such an unstoppable force of nature."

As Rinika presses the grains into his hands, Khikril tilts his head at the strange catfolk, giving another sideways blink. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I haven't really needed to eat in several years - some of my earlier experiments in preservation left me without a lot of the necessary criteria for life, in its most technical sense." He empties the handful of grains into Jek's sack when the bariaur comes up for air, picking out the grubs and popping them into his mouth with a grin. "I won't say no to a good snack once in a while, though!"

You climb for several more hours which begins to wear on those with weaker constitutions, no game effect yet but if you try to climb more after this dungeon you’ll have to start making forced march checks. Eventually you come across the Blue Mushrooms, curious small mycelium that only grow on the underside of the stairs without apparent soil to support them. As you climb closer to Shavanistra's kip the stairs become more and more damaged, claw and burn marks mar some areas, while in other chunks or even whole steps are ripped away.

When you draw very close you see an entire flight of 50ft missing, with thick strands of webbing in its place. In the center of the web sits a spider of unusual size. huge

"You speak common?" Nik asks, waving at the spider from the safety of Jek's flank.

Enoch walks each step of the Infinite Staircase with pride, patience, aparticular placement of platitudes pleasing to his peers, pacifying any preconceived panic at the unnerving sight of the Spider of Unusual Size.

The intrigued Chronicler of Worlds steps right to the edge of the webbing the huge behemoth lays upon.

Planar Lore (Ex): knowledge (planes) Take 20 6/6 Knowledge Planes+22 for 42

Enoch bows low to the majestic hairy-legged beastie.
Greetings, oh Goliath of Spiders. We humble travels would wish to proceed forward along our path without any direct, or indirect, interference from you and yours.

Linguistics (Int) to Make An Impression: 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (9) + 26 = 35

At the sight of the destroyed landing and the spider at its heart, Khikril eagerly steps forward, opening his mouth to speak, but as Enoch steps forward to resolve the situation much more diplomatically than he is capable of, he stops, closing his mouth. Instead, his taloned hand darts to his side, grabbing his journal, and he feverishly begins to sketch the massive being in its lair. After a moment, he stops, tapping the end of his pen against his journal's page as his stomach growls. "Why do I feel the sudden urge for hemolymph sausages? ...Actually, that sounds great right now..." Licking his lips, he shrugs and gets back to his work.

Enoch knows this creature is a bebilith, a creature spawned in the foul pits of the Abyss, not to tempt or destroy mortal creatures but to hunt Tanar’ri. They are as cruel and capricious as the Tanar’ri themselves. Feel free to peak at the bebilith stats.

The spider seemingly nods to Enoch as he greets it by waving two of its darkly blue and massive legs at him and the party. It begins to tap on its web sending vibrations down the sticky strands but the meaning invades your mind with a sensation like a rusty dagger penetrating your eye socket. ”Oh your words drip with honey and sweetness mortal and I have no quarrel with you, but why should I grant such a request to such an ephemeral creature such as you?”

Knowledge (Planes): 1d20 + 21 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 21 - 2 = 33 Nik probably knows about spiders too...

Nik replies with an awful sounding set of break-teeth words.

Diplo -necropolitan: 1d20 + 13 - 2 ⇒ (14) + 13 - 2 = 25 Should I roll diplo for this? I feel like I'm being nice about it...

"Hmmm... this is the part of a delivery where I'd usually have to return-to-sender."

Jek winces as the spider thing invades everyone's heads.

The bebilith ignores Jek's inane thoughts and continues to painfully intrude on your thoughts.

It responds to Nik. "Want and need hmmm..." It considers the questions for the moment, "Lillend, lillend, I don't what those are. But you could be useful, perhaps, bring the glabrezu Gerrzog to my web, alive and wriggling. In return you may pass and I promise not to hunt you down and eat you after."

Enoch writes down
glabrezu named Gerrzog.

And where might we locate this particular Gerrzog?

The Bard also shakes his head.
Your rates are also a bit outdated. Jek what's the current rates for demon retrieval?

After a few seconds (he was distracted by the unacceptable payment arrangements), the Aphrorite laughs.
I am curious as to why we would risk a confrontation with a CR 13 demon when we could easily secure passive passage from a CR 10?

Planar Lore (Ex): knowledge (planes) glabrezu Take 20 6/5 Knowledge Planes+22 for 42

The Chronicler of Worlds winks at the bebilith.
Perhaps we avoid absolutely any aggressive arrangements and alter this conversation.
Linguistics (Int) to influence: 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (5) + 24 = 29
Investigative Mind Linguistics (Int) to influence: 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (15) + 24 = 39

Enoch lifts a single white gloved finger into the air in the direction of the bebilith. The Aphrorite then turns his blue eyes to look directly at the audience.

He recites as if from a wiki page.
Tanar'ri (pronounced tah-NAHR-ree or teh-NAH-ree] or tuh-NAHR-ee were the dominant race of demons in the Abyss, evil souls warped by its raw chaos into manifestations of mortal failing. Whether they arose naturally from sins and spirits, or were shaped by evil gods or other powerful demons, all tanar'ri were embodiments of vice, depraved inner demons spawned from the darkest corners of mortal minds.

Enoch then whispers
Blame the writers not the Bard.

The creature rakes shards of glass across your mind as it responds, "Not far from here. He's quite close. And I am patient." Enoch gets the feeling that his irreverent tone and attempt at hard selling is have a deleterious effect on his ability to influence the inhuman creature.

Enoch knows a little bit about Glabrezus, though he has never encountered one before. In their true form they are towering, broad and well-muscled, with four arms, two end in clawed hands and two with powerful pincers. They have dog-like heads with sharp fangs and penetrating violet eyes. He's heard rumors that they are the covert agents of the Blood War.

Rinika, Jek, and Nik remember a time when the wind was driving them insane.

The djinn trudges up the stairs, so eager to embrace the exercise she revels in the aches and pains.
At first she thinks the Arachne-kin might be more potential friend than foe despite it's appearance, a default sentiment which often gets her into trouble.

As it's threads vibrate to address the group, Xibalba sneezes.
Ugh, telepathy.

Perhaps, they could not be friends after all.

After Enoch's bid she motions to herself and turns to her companions. Her voice sounds stuffy as if she has a head cold.
"Hmmm. While this one does not speaken for us, but advises taking such a deal. A contract is preferablewise and this Gerzzog expectes us not at all. "

At the bebilith's offer, Khilril's train of thought shifts from mad schematics for spider-like transportation machines to a telepathic response to the bizarre creature. What happened to the Staircase landing here? What incentive do you provide us not to just immolate you and proceed? Do you think that a mixture of lubricant and alchemical fluid pumped by class-three bellows apparatus could adequately sustain a transport device formed of your hollowed-out shell?

After a moment, he turns back to the rest of the group. "Why do we need to make a bargain with this bebelith? Couldn't we just set it on fire?" The avian scholar glances enviously at the demonic construct. "Its shell would be the ideal vessel for many of my experiments."

Rinika darts into the shadows to observe quietly while the others talk to the creature for a bit, but she reappears sitting on the edge of the landing and chimes in. "I don't see as why we need to do this lady's job for her. Last time we fought a glabrezu didn't seem like it'd be easy to take one alive and unwilling, and I don't know so far as tricking it would work either. So I decline, for my two copper. And we don't have no quarrel with you, ma'am, so we'll be crossing peacefully if you kindly."