Volcano's Land - Mercury Morn

Game Master Miner Cotren

Chapter Fourteen. A New Day Dawning.

It is Ashday, Rainrites the 1st. Same year.
(only a week has passed since you died. likely enough time for the Gems to have won a victory over ifrit territory)

Samen, feel free to describe your new self, especially whatever clothing and equipment you decide to conjure from the recesses of your mind.

Learningto weeps salty brown tears, overwhelmed by the beauty and strangeness of this open, windy place. "What a time to (be alive), young one!"

"Well that was certainly... dramatic? And what exactly are you at this point? Are we competing for most changes?"

Samen looks over his new body, frail and pink in comparison to his former flesh. Yet inside, without the elementals, it is refreshingly serene. Even moreso, with the elemental taint of thousands of years lifted away, his mind is opened. Like a blind man receiving sight, or a deaf man hearing, Samen can finally think with unencumbered clarity and humanity.

"Ha! Dramatic indeed, my good friend! But no, I am now the least changed. I have been touched by Sun, buried beneath the Earth. An impossibility the likes of ancient prophecy, to be sure! I am the non-elemental essence of elenity. No, that's not quite right. I am the canvas upon which the elemental corruption of elenity was painted. I am clean. I am whole. I am free. I am man.

More than any of the rest of you; I am reborn!"

Rolling onto the grass and fattening out. Wiggling and rolling in clear contentment at the new sensations on the ground. Rolling gently into Learningto, and erupting into brown and blue gasses, "Beautiful time!"

Slowing spinning in a circle and looking around at the surprisingly familiar scene. Everything fades away with the smell of the Forest. Tracking birds, racing around with a sibling no one else would talk about, sitting at Umik's feet and listening to any story he wanted to tell.

Abnaki unintentionally snaps her out of her memories. Moving towards Samen and leaving red ichor in her wake. "Reborn?"

Stopping within arm's reach, "Did you know this would happen?"

Samen nods graciously toward the ghost. "Not until the last second. It's difficult to explain, but as I approached the bones, my head became clearer and clearer. I didn't know that it would free us from the bowels of the earth, but I knew it would free me from my former state."

A well-muscled oread steps into the clearing, light on his feet despite his size. He is flanked by a dozen warriors, all stepping carefully, all unarmed yet poised for attack. Though he is dressed simply, the first oread carries himself in a way that clearly shows him to be the leader.

"Greetings, strangers. My magician informed me of a powerful transportation spell, and here I find you." He pauses a moment. "Welcome to Tall Oak territory, though you will have to forgive me for not being one of their tribe, and unable to give you a formal welcome. I am Wamblee, of the Tribe of Peace. Who are you?"

He politely waits for you to introduce yourselves.

Samen, this is your brother, but he of course does not recognize you

Gabe and Abnaki, you also briefly met Wamblee WAY back when LINK but he would not recognize you in your altered forms either

Learningto holds Qizzlvutz like her own child, cooing and blurbling for quiet. Her shifting indicates the newest strangers. "Caution, young one."

I've got my profile finished up at this point, and one of the items I made sure to include in my list of humble possessions was a hat of disguise. Samen, though changed dramatically in every way, is still familiar enough with the concept of the weird ones being persecuted that this seemed like a necessity.

Samen grins wryly at the situation. The position of knowledge is amusing, and the capacity to actually enjoy messing with his brother is empowering. Best not to give too much away too quickly. "We are freshly born, yet already dead. We were not here, yet here we are. If you are the tribe of peace, then why does the world declare war on you?"

He pauses a moment; just long enough for Wamblee to begin formulating a response, and cuts him off. "Oh, I do apologize! You asked for introductions. I am he who you've known the longest, yet I am he no longer."

Samen uses the hat of disguise to make himself appear as a Sylph, adjacent to, but not exactly, in the likeness of their mutual brother, Samoon. He tips his hat, now wide brimmed like the one their brother used to favor, in Wamblee's direction.

Wamblee frowns. "You taunt me with images from the past. You are either a Fey trickster with particularly poor taste, or..." He cuts himself off before he says more, unwilling to reveal his thoughts to strangers. You see his eyes searching for a staff you no longer possess, and elemental companions you have abandoned. You see him shake his head slightly, just a gesture to himself.

Abnaki, Hroof Hroofa is still 'friends' with you, and looks to your command. He is restless as he cannot understand the current conversation with the newcomer.

You are starting to understand the mycos better and better with your growing Declarative power. "(Is this) the heaven of trees? (Are there) treasures for the (taking)?"

Samen takes the form of his prior self and continues smiling at his brother. "It's not either/or, Wamblee. Both/And. We sensed Obdurate was in pain and came as quickly as we could. Some old bones killed us on the way, and we just now managed to be teleported up from the bowels of the earth."

He lets the disguise fade away. "More importantly, brother, I did it! I'm finally free! Sun has set me free from my elemental shackles. Now that I know the shape of it, I could share this boon. Hmm, no, it wouldn't do for you, would it, what with being the tribal leader and all. In time, perhaps. How is Iniga?"

"I am Abnaki, although much changed since the last time that we defended you from assassins. Good fortune to meet again Wamblee. Tell me, how far has the Gem incursion progressed?"

To the Mycos, he tries to imitate their language style. "No (these are) friends. (We take) from enemies (only). (Much) glory (to be) found."

Qizzlvutz stays near Learningto. There are so many new elen. Seems important though so they pull a small piece of charcoal from their bag. Crouching down and pulling a thin bit of flesh out and starts to draw the scene.

Looking back and forth between the now three groups and still not sure where she belongs. Pointing to Qizz, "The little one is Qizzlvtz and the taller one is Learningto. I am Kallik of the East Tribe."

Wamblee goes still, staring at Samen; this strange "Son" thing. Aloud, he says, "None of the others mentioned Obdurate...he is unknown to them."

The monk looks away for several seconds, far to the south, toward the mountain ranges. He sighs, deeply. "We have had many spies. Many of them looked like you, brother. I have had to kill many gem-cut copies of you, as I found them all out in a lie sooner or later. Obdurate was the key."

He closes the distance between you in a few swift steps, then embraces you. "I'm very tired, brother. I hope you are true."

Wamblee seems embarrassed by his display, but regains his formality as he turns toward the rest of you. "Abnaki, yes, I remember a glib-tongued storyteller. It seems you have also been changed since last we talked."

Finally he turns to Kallik, and bows slightly, like one king to another. "One of the Blessed? Such tales have ranged even to the southern tribes...though your own Eastern Tribe suppresses knowledge of oreads like yourself championing an ifrit city." He realizes these words could be seen unfavorably, and adds, "You are most welcome here - we know the truth of your great heart and great deeds."

He speaks a few encouraging words in Oread to his warriors, who relax their stances slightly. Several still seem on edge, but trust their leader.

***

As you being walking back to the rest of Wamblee's tribe, he tells you that Iniga has gone her own way, far to the north; he also replies wryly to Abnaki that the Gems are as sharp as they've ever been. Ask more IC if you want to keep talking about it -- -up to you

Samen gladly returns the embrace. "Ha! Of all the people they could've impersonated, they picked me? They must be desperate. Did they fake the elementals too? I have a hard time imagining a gem doing an effective impression of Abby."

"I'm sure we've both been through a lot. I wasn't kidding when I said we were dead and reborn, so I'm a little fuzzy on the timeline. How long ago did we part ways? We had dealt Moon a serious blow, and killed its champion, but were felled by an anti-magic growth of bones."

"Surely there wasn't a split between you and Iniga? You were both always so insufferable about the tribe of peace."

Again, the faraway look.  "It has seemed much longer, but it has been one month and one day. With the loss of you, the mercenaries, and the paladins, the ifrit farmlands were overwhelmed.  We received word that the Gems are using it as some crystalline breeding ground, and the strange copies they produce roam the lands causing havoc."

Another pause.  "I met an oread magician on the road, who is now my own personal magician.  He enabled us to use the quickburrows underneath the soil, and we arrived here in Forest only a few days after we parted ways."

"The rest has been...trying to make pacts between tribes to forge a Peace, and fending off gem-crazed herds of rock beasts."  As he speaks, Wamblee composure returns; you can tell that sharing all this bad news is helping him to release its hold on him.  

If this was a movie, Wamblee's last look would have cut to a hideous topaz-eyed Abby screaming up close, then snap back. Not the sort of thing Wamblee would ever narrate.

"And as for Iniga, ha, no, quite the opposite of abandoning our cause. She has traveled north to the bitter cold reaches. She hopes to end the darkspawn fevers that plague the tribes of Ambrosia and Nightshade." A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "She called it a task worthy of her strength, as she toted that fearsome Hand behind her."

the Hand of an ancient knight/saint

Samen nods, echoing Wamblee's seriousness. The situation is dire, but not lost. "Very well. What's the plan?"

Wamblee smile a bit more. "Always on to the next project. Hmm. The plan, for now, is to introduce you to my counselors, and hear their wisdom. It is nearly evening, and we may need to rest before we make any final decision. Come brother, it is good to have you by my side."

And more to himself, "Perhaps you can cure Obdurate of his pain."

It is eighteenth candle.

As Wamblee mentions evening, you all take stock of your surroundings once more: Volcano lies on the southern side of the Horned Mountains, and you see only the indirect peaklight that claws its way over the jagged mountain range. For any native of Hearth who has never traveled, it would be nearly imposible to tell the time of day. The Quiet Elder of the Tall Oaks looms high, even from this distance. Wamblee takes you closer.

all: if you have ranks in it, please roll knowledge history to the remember the name of this Elder, or info about the Tall Oak tribe. If you are an oread, I would also accept knowledge religion roll.

I'm a bard, all things are the same to me.

Religion: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

We'll get there...soon... The peaks shadows Gabriel is quiet, but seems focused on returing home, mayhaps a bit more openly emotional...

history : 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13 but they would likely only know it though the link to Kallik

Samen's eyes go blank and his body goes still for a moment as he strains to recollect relevant facts.

Casting Burst of Insight, 1st level spell, gives me effectively a +3 to skill checks, but stuns me for one round.

Knowledge History: 1d20 + 25 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 25 + 3 = 38

For Human Samen, it is akin to reading Oread-Samen's brain like a book - you can flip to information you had forgotten you even knew, and the ink is still sharp and defined. There are pages of Smoke, Dust, and Star knowledge. You know so much.

Samen shares the information with the rest of the group as they follow Wamblee.

Koniec Krętej ścieżki is known as the End of the Winding Path. This Quiet Elder is associated with death. There are massive graveyards woven throughout the stone-shaped city that surrounds the Elder.

The Tall Oaks tribe, in contrast, is not steeped in religion or death. They are a more militaristic tribe, and conquered this area a century ago. This has been a disputed holy site between Tall Oaks and Bitter Cress for generations.

As the peaklight fades, Samen notices something new about humanity. He blinks several times and squints against the dark. "Huh. It seems as though a purely human form, devoid of elemental adulteration, has bad eyesight at night. Who knows what other wonders of physiology we might now discover? I'm betting there's no energy form that will heal me either."

He concentrates on his shield until it starts glowing. "Ah well. Easily solved, I suppose."

I realized that I am now probably the only person in all of the known multiplanar universe without darkvision.

Even in these days of magic and elementals, your group draws stares for its strangeness. Wamblee leads this troupe of garish people through the outskirts of penned earthen livestock. A storyteller, clearly Fey-touched; several fungus-people, the likes of which have not been seen or mentioned in centuries; a surly, frowning phantom; and a pink-skinned elen-thing whose every word seems a blaspheny against the gods.

Past large pens and pastures, the Elder growing even larger in your vision. There are camps here from many tribes - Wamblee mentioned he has been trying to make several alliances to strengthen the defenses of Forest.

At the first odd stares, Samen will activate his hat to take on his familiar Oread form.

Abnaki shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. His feet drag through the earth, like an exhausted man scuffing his feet. "Ozna told me I had forgotten something very important a while back. I don't remember exactly what though. Once I would have been able to tell you the name of that Elder easily. Now though... it's gone. I wonder what other knowledge I have forgotten, bartered for knowledge of the Old Words."

At Samen's mention of not being able to see, he seems to perk up a little bit. Evidentially misfortune came to everyone. Still, that was going to be annoying.

"Some Ifrit warriors carry fire with them, in order to rub the hot coals on themselves to heal. Perhaps we could fashion some version of that custom to provide you light?"

He ponders more; having a problem to solve distracts him from his own predicament. "No form of energy, eh? And what about positive energy?" With that, a word flies into his mind, and he says "Heal!"

Lesser cure: 1d6 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

"Yeah, that felt warm and nice. I don't have any wounds currently, but I expect that would've helped. As long as there's sufficient light, either from Volcano, a nearby fire, or a cantrip, I should be fine. It will, however, make it more challenging for me to sneak around in the dark."

Samen hesitates, unsure if he should even offer it to Abnaki. "I now possess some minor mind probing skills, if you'd like me to scan around for what you're missing. I can't guarantee success, but it could at least be informative."

Wamblee has been listening, saying little. "Are you an elen of the mind, brother? Is that what a 'human' is?"

So you scan minds... And i lose my shadows. Dying sucks. A Gabriel ponders a minute that he actually said that .

Samen considers the question for a moment before shaking his head. "Hmm, no I don't think so. All elens have minds, and so do many of the elementals we've encountered. Having a strong mind is not essential to humanity, though it was high on my priorities as I transformed. If elenity is a painting, humanity is the canvas. I suppose that's a slightly less politically charged way to say it than calling it a curse.

Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure where this mind magic is coming from. I shall think on it; perhaps I shall will answers into existence."

"You may dig if you desire, but be careful not to uncover a pitfall and find yourself in it."

Abnaki winks at Samen as he mentions willing answers into existence, "That is how I do most of my magic my friend. The power of will and stories."

"Too true, Gabriel. Dying was not the best. I'd like to do my best to forestall such a fate as long as possible. Keep in mind that each loss is a gain of a new opportunity. Try not to let it bother you too much. If you'd like, I could let you try being human for a while?"

He turns to Abnaki. "Alright then, hold still and let me poke around in there a bit."

Casting detect thoughts, concentrating on Abnaki.

Reading Samen the Oread's mind was like a massive, well-indexed reference book - raw knowledge and facts, obsessively organized.

The mind of Abnaki the Thrice-Broken, by contrast, is a bookcase full of fables, myths, religious parables, and a fair amount of children's stories. The books are scattered upon the floor of his psyche, a dozen tales all vying for attention.

You cannot imagine how you would find a missing piece of information among the clutter.

After Samen completes the small spell, Wamblee clears his throat politely. "I do not think it would do to alarm anyone with more strangeness, brother. Can your rituals wait for more privacy? I am still forging alliances with skittish tribes." There is no rebuke in his voice, just simple caution leavened with weariness.

"Speaking of alarming things, what happened to Abbygailwy during your apotheosis Samen? Have you subsumed the elemental entirely, was she destroyed, or something else entirely?"

(a still corpse, miles below the surface, screams silently, sightlessly)

"I'm not entirely sure. Could be she's still with my former husk, could be she went back into Volcano's bosom. Either way, I imagine she's not happy. If we ever see her again, I think we shall need to kill her. Or at least try."

"Your mind... how do you form complete sentences? How do you walk upright?"

Nodding along with Gabriel, "Dying has more complications that I expected. At least you kept your body."

Better than kept actually... I feel stronger. We could always bribe her if we do, that seemed to work wonders on Abby, though I'd rather not fight her i would if need be. Gabriel looks over casually, a softness in his eyes rather than cold logic, Meditation, calms the mind. Be coming comfortable with yourself and whats in you. Accept the voices, the complications and let them flow and move on like water and wind.

With most of the group engaged in conversation, no one notices the lithe ele warrior who suddenly pounces upon Wamblee, laughing. She wraps her arms around his neck in a fierce hug. "You're dead, Chieftain. Pay more attenion to footsteps that don't belong."

A real smile lifts Wamblee's expression. "Chapawee." He gently removes her from his neck and shoulders, placing the tall ele beside him. "Thank you for bringing my attention back to the present." His hand twines in hers. The retinue of guards and warriors make no comment, their attention fixed on their surroundings.

"Your timing is fortunate, love. Could you tell Umik we are coming? I would have the counsel of my magician if were are to make decisions this day."

"Complete sentences? I may be scattered Samen, but it's not that bad up there is it?" Abnaki suddenly looks concerned. "Is it?"

As Chapawee departs, Wamblee's smiles falters. Putting up a strong facade for his lover has left his lingering headache even worse, but he hides this from all but his brother. While this new Samen's eyes are strangely weak, the sharp mind behind them sees Wamblee's winces of pain.

Addressing Abnaki, he says, "I hate to interrupt, griot, but you seemed to be using healing magic just a few moments ago. After we speak to my counselors, would you join Samen and I? I have a...friend who needs healing, but of what kind of healing I know not. I am looking for help."