Disinterested in temporal paradoxes, AMT has a different axe to grind. Her attack leaves AMS sappy, trunk connected to root by a sliver of bark.
The skeletal sapling ignores Fate’s hex, while Cade, Jaakko and Majet all miss.
Ilarien has better luck with Omandi, the old woman letting out a low moooan … as she slumps to the floor in a near-catatonic state.
💐
Skelie Majet takes a swipe at Jaakko and then takes a step to get a better angle on the casters.
The Deadwood slashes at AMT, before roughly following the other skeleton's lead.
Round #2/3:
Majet
Fate
Jaakko
Cade
--
AMS (green)
Skelie Majet (orange)
Omandi Mil (pink)
--
Ilarien
Angry Magic Tree
Ilarien’s run of luck from her patron continues, as skeletal Majet succumbs to occult power.
Round #2/3:
Majet
Fate
Jaakko
Cade
--
AMS (green)
Skelie Majet (orange)
Omandi Mil (pink)
--
Ilarien
Angry Magic Tree
are go!
As if being shocked, defeated and slumped on the floor wasn’t enough, Omandi gets an eyeful of Fate’s unique features, stands, turns and begins hammering on the metal door again.
The flank Cade is waiting for never comes, though he manages to scrape the Majet skelie’s ribcage anyway with his kukri, doing minimal damage.
Knowing her own grain pretty well, AMT gets to the dead ♡ of AMS, leaving nothing but a stump when she’s finished splitting.
Having been destroyed by herself from either the future … or the past, the wooden corpse disappears in a *puff* of temporal logic (and sawdust).
Jaakko follows AMT’s lead but only gets a noseful of sawdust for his trouble.
Majet drops acid on her skeletal self. Although unintended, the splash affects Cade, though the halfling warrior (probably) accepts it as an occupational hazard.
☠
Still in this fight, Majet’s skeleton ignores Cade and takes a 5’ step to engage Ilarien.
Round #3/4:
Majet
Fate
Jaakko
Cade
--
AMS (green)
Skelie Majet (orange)
Omandi Mil (pink)
--
Ilarien
Angry Magic Tree
Frightened: Characters who are frightened are shaken, and in addition they flee from the source of their fear as quickly as they can. They can choose the paths of their flight. Other than that stipulation, once they are out of sight (or hearing) of the source of their fear, they can act as they want. If the duration of their fear continues, however, characters can be forced to flee if the source of their fear presents itself again. Big ben characters unable to flee can fight (though they are still shaken).
Shaken: Characters who are shaken take a –2 penalty on attack rolls, saving throws, skill checks, and ability checks.
Jaakko and Cade combine to take down Majet’s calcium-rich doppelganger.
It disappears in a *puff* of glitter and rainbows.
✨ 🌈
The northern metal door slides open without warning, flooding the battlefield with harsh, artificial light from the passage beyond.
Through the glare you can see the green aura that surrounded Omandi (and the other Anchors) is gone.
Similarly, there is no sign of the entity ‘Romnus’ the witch was calling out to.
She will flee if you let her.
Round #3/4:
Majet
Fate
Jaakko
Cade
--
AMS (green)
Skelie Majet (orange)
Omandi Mil (pink)
--
Ilarien
Angry Magic Tree
, what’cha doing?
"Woman, who were you calling out to and what did you expect to happen?"
“Can’t talk. Fleeing.”
Omandi Mil doesn’t even look back as she rushes through the open doorway, around a metal corner and out of sight.
Following the depleted Anchor through the northern doorway, you find so many sterile, identical corridors that tracking her seems very unlikely.
Eventually your nose leads you back to the original Vault antechamber.
VC Kreighton Shaine is still elderly, but conscious and in good spirits. Of the Harbinger Alrune Shahan, there is no sign.
“Shahan, huh? Nope. Haven’t seen her.”
He frowns. “But let me get this straight -- you left me helpless in the care of a surrendered enemy agent??”
“Just Joey! Wouldn’t have happened in my day … By the way, nice rose, Agent Angry Magic Tree. Haven’t seen a blue ‘un in 500 years!”
The other difference in the Vault antechamber is the door against the western wall is now open …
"Someone is going to have to face the last and most important Anchor: the leader of the Harbingers of Fate. Do you think you're ready to face the Sky Key and Lady Arodeth?"
The Master of Scrolls trails behind you, not quite herding you towards the doorway. “It may be that you will have to fight ...”
“OR it may be that you of all groups, can make Lady Arodeth see reason."
He looks bemused. "I'm not the best at social situations. I get lost trying to figure out emotions. It's so much easier to study my scrolls and my history."
The elf suddenly looks his age. "Though I must admit, as excited as we ... I ... oh, this is sooooo confusing … as all of my various selves are to visit such a pivotal moment of history, I have no desire to STAY."
He shows you the door. “This is the final curtain. Break a leg, Pathfinders.”
Heavy walls and strange panels in this room all focus on the strange orrery in its center. Raised on a small dais, and separated from the rest of the room by a wide trench, the device oozes a thick, emerald light. The water in the surrounding trench *sparks* with little flashes of electrical energy. The air smells of ozone, like standing amid a roaring thunderstorm.
In the center of the room, standing on top of the dais, is a glowing green woman in a trance. Floating in the air around her are a clutch of crystalline balls, each depicting visions of her glowing green anchors and the Pathfinder groups wandering through the Azlanti town of Lacsuhnollo, 300 feet above your heads.
The two eastern corners of the control room host a lightning elemental. A third in the south-west accommodates a scowling green-tinged humanoid, with scaly wings sprouting from both shoulders.
Lady Arodeth has a wand in her hand, which she lowers as she opens her eyes. “I’ve been wondering who they would send to face me.”
Her tone is conversational. “The Society’s most potent mages? Their toughest warriors? Their most learned scholars? No ... They sent YOU.”
She raises an eyebrow as she calls through the short corridor you have been funnelled down. “Well-played, Master of Scrolls. You’re cannier than I thought. You did not send your most powerful agents. You sent the nicest.”
She studies you intently. “How does it feel, being the Pathfinder Society’s sacrificial lambs? Under other circumstances, I would have tried to recruit you. Most of you are strong in arm and conviction, or hold much potential in the arcane arts.”
She looks sad. “You could help me create a new world, one in which fate and prophecy MATTER. One where one can follow one’s destiny. A united community with a PLAN -- one that makes sense!”
She looks at you hopefully, with raised eyebrows.
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"The leshy is right. By enacting this plan, you are stealing the free will of millions of others. You also have no idea as to the ramifications. By doing this, it is possible that the face of Galorian is irrevocable altered beyond recognition, and not for the better. As mortals, we have short comings. I believe your intentions are not malicious, but that does not mean there would not be consequences. Consequences that would have to be paid by an untold number of souls." Fate pauses a moment. "Please do not do this. It opens a door for anyone displeased with how their life turned out, that somehow one life, or a thousand lives, are more important and worthy than billions of others. No mortal should have that kind of power. It is too much, and we simply lack the vision to see and understand all of the possible outcomes. This path you walk can lead to infinite mistakes. So, I ask you once again to stop."
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"I do sympathize with you in some ways--free will is messy, after all, and a challenge to good order--but you're failing to consider something else. How do you know that the god didn't relinquish his existence willingly? He may have been wise enough to foresee something beyond our capabilities, and the only way he could give his beloved humans a chance to survive was to leave us to grow up on our own. Every parent faces that inevitability. Would you have us be children forever?"
”But that’s boooooooooooring!!!”
“What? Are you three?”
Lady Arodeth’s mouth hangs open. “I’m talking about eliminating the suffering of untold thousands.”
“Just think about it: No Worldwound, no Chelish civil war, no House Thrune Triumphant, no destruction of the Sodden Lands’ twin civilizations by the Eye of Abendego.”
“You also have no idea as to the ramifications.”
She grimaces and exchanges glances with the winged human male behind her. “My apologies, Pathfinders. I haven’t introduced my Chief of Staff, Romnus Vagarti.”
She sweeps her arms to the front, clearly buying time to think. “And his loyal pets, Volte and Ohm.”
“Oh and don’t be afraid to move into the chamber, unless you prefer to remain in perfect lightning bolt formation.”
Her eyes narrow as she finally addresses Fate. "Oh, but the world -- prior to the death of Aroden -- was the very world that existed! That was meant to exist!"
"Why do you think the current age is called the Age of Lost Omens and not the Age of Glory? Because something went terribly, terribly WRONG when Aroden died. And now we need to set it right!"
"How do you know that the god didn't relinquish his existence willingly ..? Every parent faces that inevitability. Would you have us be children forever?"
“It’s a possibility, I suppose. But few parents choose to snuff it in order to make their kids to grow up. And even then, is the next generation of young adults really better off without the benefit of a loving role model in their life?”
“Free will is not something us mortals should trifle with. Gods are ultimately in charge of our destinies, I think."
“Like the god of Humanity you mean? I agree. So let’s bring Him back!”
"My friends speak well but I would hear more from you about your intentions and goals. I think you misguided but the more we know the easier it may be to find a peaceful resolution and avoid more death, destruction and despair. There have been enough of those already."
“I think that’s sensible. In a nutshell, the argument boils down to: Is Golarion a ‘better place’ with Aroden, the Savior of Humanity or without Him.”
Her eyes glitter with fanaticism, though they also hold a touch of doubt. “I say ‘With.’”
(I have noted Majet's roll)
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Majet starts pulling out lengths of fabric as she approaches, "Well whatever the outcome, it would do us well to look our best. Grand march of the conquerer, last appearance at your funeral, welcome presentation of a negotiated peace, a bit of sprucing up would help any of us. Let me start with you ..."
Majet watches closely for the flash in the eyes that indicates she just found the exact right fabric.
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"Why do you think the current age is called the Age of Lost Omens and not the Age of Glory? Because something went terribly, terribly WRONG when Aroden died. And now we need to set it right!"
"What exactly did you lose that that you're so desperate to get back? Because if you were truly acting for humanity's benevolence, you wouldn't have cut down so many just to get your way. So what are you really after?"
|
“What? Are you three?”
”No, more like...” Angry Magic Tree pauses to count on his leaves. ”Two and a half. Oh, did you mean years and not centuries? I forgot human flesh people don’t live very long - which could explain why they can’t see the forest for the trees. Don’t you agree?” He turns to Jaakko for confirmation, a wink in his eye.
“Well whatever the outcome, it would do us well to look our best.”
“No … No … HELLS NO! Do you really think fluorescent pink with burnt orange polka-squares is my look?”
“No … N..wait. Show me that black silk again.”
Lady Arodeth runs the sleek material between index finger and thumb, before clasping three fingers to her open mouth.
“OMG A! I wore a dress made from exactly this stuff to Aroden’s Funeral in Absalom.”
She stares back at all of you. “Do you know what this means? Aroden DOES die! All this trouble the Harbingers of Fate have gone to is for naught.”
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"Tell me more about how you came to be leader of the Harbingers. Your singular drive is impressive--what put you on this path?"
“Well, Daddy was always busy scouting out new business ventures with his latest private secretary and valet. He was very rarely home.”
“So Mummy had to see to the estate and all of the menials. The little pills she took really seemed to help.”
“And a girl couldn’t ask for better brothers than Godfrey and L'Amoreaux. A couple of right smashers! Always off in the country hunting and fishing, except when Daddy was showing them the accounts and whatnot.”
“So from an early age I suppose you could say I was a self-starter. Popularity came naturally to me, so I sought a means to harness my natural gifts for the betterment of humanity. Noble politics and mercantile endeavors never interested me. Despite their talk, all the players are only in it for themselves. And besides, I was thinking waaaay bigger than that!”
Self-loathing eats at me like a gnawing demon. I have been put down and trodden on by everyone and I've done the same back just to protect myself. Any moment of innocence and joy was used against me, and nothing will ever be good enough for Mummy!
“So where my love for humanity crossed paths with my spiritual guide The Last Azlanti, I found a calling in the Harbingers of Fate where I thought I could make a real difference to people’s lives.”
“And as you know, the rest is history.”
I want to stride through the Ascendant Court of Absalom as consort to Aroden, while crowds fall silent in fawning awe. And I want Mummy to witness the entire scene.
"But let's imagine you actually succeed in bringing Aroden back. What happens if he isn't who you thought him to be?"
Lady Arodeth drops her forehead onto an open hand, and sneaks a second look at Romnus, her chief advisor.
"It is that kind of hubris that has led to the deaths of countless lives since the dawn of time."
“I want to believe the world will be so much better with Aroden in it … But you’re right. There are no guarantees in this world or the next.”
She closes her eyes. “St Arazni once said, ‘There are more tears shed over answered prayers than unanswered ones.’”
😣
Then Lady Arodeth opens her eyes and *cracks* her knuckles. “Pathfinders, I apologize for the actions of my Harbingers and myself.”
“I think I should consult with your Master of Scrolls to see if we can work out a way to undo the damage I’ve caused, and get everyone back to the present.”
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The asteroid looms impossibly large overhead, and the air grows stiflingly hot as the world itself begins to rumble. High overhead, the dome of green energy shudders, twists, and finally shatters, and Pathfinders’ bodies begin melting into flowing particles as the world slips away.
Just as quickly, you stumble as Bloodwatered Meadow coalesces beneath your feet, as it does for countless other Society agents. The wildflowers bob lazily in the wind, and nothing but a few still bodies stand as testament to the bloodshed and struggle of the past five hours. Kreighton Shaine, looking several years older, staggers to his feet and gives a nervous chuckle before climbing up a small knoll and waving his arms for the crowd’s attention.
“What we have all witnessed here today has been a remarkably journey that included sights no living soul on Golarion has witnessed. The Sky Key has allowed us to walk among the serpentfolk and Azlanti, gazing upon several of the greatest events to shape Golarion and the region that would one day become the Inner Sea. Let the catastrophe that we witnessed and narrowly escaped humble us and teach us so that we might find value in preserving the messages and wisdom those lost people may have left behind for us to discover. I think we all have some responsibility to remember those who passed so that our modern world can exist.
“You have all observed great things and have notes to share. This much is certain. But for now, let us… let us simply take a few days to reflect. The Society, I imagine, will send agents to collect your notes and interview you about your experiences. Until then, find your families and loved ones, as I know I shall. Failing that, find some passion that ties you to the here and now, and embrace it.
“We survived, Pathfinders. I am proud of your unrivaled accomplishment!”