Volcano's Land - Mercury Morn

Game Master Miner Cotren

Samen considers the news. "Strange that the Quiet Elder didn't improve. All the ones in the North did. I would've expected, if not full restoration, at least a small revitalization.

As for assisting you, I'm sure Wamblee would prefer we aid you. If you could magically assist us in getting word to him, then you may make what use of us that you can."

Dove nods. "I shall provide you with such assistance presently. I will also relay further details, but please leave your social calendars free for the evening." With a small wave and an awkward half-smile, the sylph breaks the connection. Your eyes dance with faint afterimages from the bright, illusory light.

"Very well."

Turning to the others, "Shall we seek accommodations in town in the meantime?"

"Cookies?"

The green-vested runner, back from his errand, bows respectfully and says, "MY....lords? With your permission, I will accompany you, so Lord Captain Dove can contact you more easily."

forgive the captilization error in the previous post. He is not yelling :)

"Indeed, though I'm not sure how the population at large would react to two strange els and a... Qzz. I guess we'll find out! And we'll be on the lookout for cookies too." He turns to the runner asking the implied question about snacks.

It is thirteenth candle.

The polite smile the runner gives you reveals nothing of his own opinions of two strange els and a Qzz. "Of course. I am sure we can find baked goods on the way to a nice tavern. Is there anything else, my lords?"

Samen considers sending word to anyone else in town, but it occurs to him that, other than Dove, everyone he knew here is either dead, missing, or elsewhere.

"No, thank you, that will be all."

The runner takes you up several flights of obsidian steps, up and down, up and down, as if the planners of the Temple made it maze-like on purpose. Finally, you come out a narrow side door, and you are outside. The air smells of wet cobblestones, and baking bread.

It is raining. Not quite a downpour, but heavy enough to be unpleasant. Undeterred, the ifrit runner snaps his fingers loudly, and makes an arching gesture over all of you. A disk of dim flames appears above you, turning the rain to steam before it can strike you. The feeling of staying effortlessly dry in a rainstorm is mildly strange.

"My name is Marco, my lords. It will be my joy to see you safely through th city."

Qzz takes the opportunity to caper in the puddles, then blowing the excess water out of their noses accompanied by their favorite brown-blue bubbles.

"That is fine work, young fireling! I despise getting wet in the rain."

apparently Opræterius is in the habit of speaking aloud these days - you can all hear him

The runner looks back behind him. "Did one of you say something, my lords?"

"Yes... one of us did." Gabe states simply without explanation. Accepting humans is one thing. Accepting walking around with a god in a teapot is another.

After a moments uncomfortable silence he continues, "Thank you for the cover from the rain."

Samen, is Angelic Aspect only 1 min / lvl, and faded by now? The reaction on the streets will be quite different (two rubbery humans is one thing, but a winged luminescent being is quite another)

Correct, only 1 min/lvl.

You descend carefully down the rain-slick obsidian steps. You hear many ifrits cursing the weather - few of Volcano's children enjoy rain. Sylphan urchins splash in the puddles, making a game of drenching ifrits in fancy clothing and running from their angry shouts, laughing breathlessly.

Volcano is hardly visible in the murk. Is it merely the opaque weather, or is the fiery god weakening from the infighting of Cauldron, Sword, and Silver? Volcano is a house divided. It remains to be seen if it can still stand strong against the Dark.

Northwest on the templeroad, traffic busy with lunch crowds, repair crews and self-important priests. The priests seem more radically dressed than usual, their garb clearing slanting toward either the Lady or the Warrior. The neutral Volcanic flames are nowhere to be seen.

Marco makes the sign of the triangle as you cross under one of the Confessional Arches, this one made of bronze greened by age, the efreet all smiling as they are dismembered by holy blades.

Qzz makes a point to walk around the Arch, rather than under. "Bad," they mutter to themselves.

Qizz sees many things, many people. Tries to shift into people, but people don't like it. 'Eww' means yucky, but also it is funny to say.

Scampers ahead, smelling with big-big nose. Rain makes all smells different. Cleaner. Smellier.

Qizz is good, stays in sight of others who cannot smell as good as Qizz to follow Qizz trail. Well, until Qizz sniffs out the cookies. With chocolate.

When you arrive around the corner, Qizz has already eaten several cookies, and a bewildered oread baker looks on the verge of calling for the guards.

Gabe chuckles as Qzz devours the sweets. "Come on now, you can't just take things... we need to pay the vendor for his wares." Assuming a valid form of payment does not materialize from the little myco...Gabe fishes out a few shields for the el and hands them over, "Signore, apologies for our little friend here. He's unfamiliar with the customs of the area."

"And you are familiar, mister smooth-pink-skin?" His smile shows no insult is meant - your money went a long way to soothing his temper. "Are you on of them drakes? You lose your scales and you're all gooey underneath?"

He includes two meat pies for you and Samen. "Here. You look hungry, and these are about to cool down."

"Thank you kindly, good sir." Samen pays him for the pies as well. "No, we're something entirely different. Travelers from a distant land; people from a distant time. We were warned that there might be some unrest around here, but details were light. Is it these drakes causing a problem?"

"You joking? The drakes are fine. Funny, weird, but more like kids than anything. Well, except..."

He notices the green-vested runner with you. A representative of the Temple. He clears his throat. "Yeah. all the drakes are fine. It's just the cults--ah, not the true Temple, a-course--but those callin' themselves Cauldrons and Longswords that want to win so bad they'll ruin the city in the meantime."

"Well, I've got another hungry customer to see to - enjoy your meat pies and come again sometime. Maybe get a leash for your pet lizard?"

Qzz scampers away on all fours, low to the ground like a lizard, shifting a long silly tail to go with.

Marco says nothing, just a pleasant smile on his face, as he gently urges the group to keep up with Qzz this time.

Gabe gives Samen a look at the hesitation talking about a certain kind of drake before glancing at Marco to see if he reacted. He nods to the vendor with his advice before running off after their 'lizard', "Wait for us Qzz!"

Cauldrons and Longswords... Aspects of the civil war Dove was talking about no doubt.

you saw a twitch of his brow, so the the subject of troublesome drakes might be a contentious one among Dove's group

Kallik's phantom scolding manages to get Qizzvultz to eventually slow down, so their companions can catch up. It is, after all, impolite to force your friends to run if they're tired after a long day.

After Marco has a chance to catch his breath, he says, "Well, thanks to that exercise, we're quite close now. I hope you'll be alright with basic lodgings. They're comfortable, of course, but Lord Captain Dove prefers to keep his allies safe by keeping them out of the limelight, and away from the fancier hotels. "

A few minutes later, just as Marco's disc of flame looks ready to sputter out, he announces, "Ah, here we are my lords."

You see a simple inn, wood plank with little in the way of decoration. The sign proclaims it Gritty Jinni Gin. You see the cheerful light of fires from inside.

"Thank you, Marco, for your assistance. We will rest and wait here for further instructions."

"Gin new kind of food?" they ask hopefully.

Inside the Gritty Jinni Gin, the bland plankboard motif continues. The place is scrubbed clean, and the faint remnants of baked bread and fried potatoes still hangs in the air from a now-absent lunch crowd.

You have the place to yourselves, for the moment. There are no decorations, nothing beyond round tables, wood chairs, a wooden counter, and the doors to the kitchen, and stairs leading up to the rooms.

A matronly sylph comes from the back. She enters with a smile, black hair in a chef's bun, her eyes a curious, eager blue. "Oi! Dovie said we 'ad more comin' in. Find a seat 'n be comfy! Sammiches an' I'll fryee somepotatoesarright?"

Without waiting for a response, she bustles back into the kitchen area, leaving the room quiet once again.

"Not a bad place even if it's a little... sterile." Addressing Qzz, "How about we hold off on consuming anything new for a bit. Apparently we'll have something tasty soon. And last I heard, gin is a type of solvent used to erase memories... not literally! It's a type alcohol. Not sure how you'd react to getting intoxicated. Don't think now's the time to find out either."

After looking around a moment longer, "Do you think Dove will keep us waiting long? For their being a civil war, the civilians don't seem much perturbed. Other than that hesitation about the drakes at least."

"You saw how deep the roots of this place go. There is more, much more, to Hearth than what we can see from the surface. Dove has proven himself reliable, if not entirely forthcoming. I expect the conflict will reveal itself in due time. For now, I'm going to sit back, relax, and enjoy a brief moment of not having my life at risk."

"True... true. To be fair, I didn't get to sightsee much in my previous visit to the temple. You're right though. Lets take advantage of this respite while we can. Qzz, try not to devour *all* the food. At least not without asking." Gabe lets out an uncharacteristic laugh. Perhaps he was more pent up than he thought.

Qizz shifts big ears to show they are listening. They eat much much food from nice lady - so many ways to make potatoes!

The serving lady comes from the back room with roast beef sandwiches with a spicy brown sauce, and several kinds of fried potatoes, a wedge of cheese, and a pitcher of small beer.

When the meal is coming to a close, she slips you what appears to be a bill. The receipt has been paid in full, and on the back there is the simple request Meet tonight to unroot the corruption of the Temple. It gives a time, and there is a drawing of the Arch you passed earlier. No signature, but a doodle of a dove in the corner.

As patrons shuffle in and out---some noisy, some smelly, most easily forgotten-- you see Cordo, the large guard you met in the lower levels of the Temple, sit down and order a pitcher of small beer. He nods to you, not attempting to disguise his presence.

As other guests start filing in Gabe sighs. "It was good while it lasted. I guess we have our orders. We'd better get out of here before we attract to much attention. I'll keep watch from above as we travel. Can't be to cautious right?"

Gabe slips out the door, giving a wave to acknowledge Cordo on the way. Finding a secluded spot he focuses himself then runs up a nearby wall to the rooftops waiting for Samen and Qzz to leave a well. He tails them from up high watching out for anyone else paying to much attention to their passage.

Despite the early candle, the gloom that greets you outside makes it seem more like suppertime. The darkness is almost what you would expect from dim, as Volcano is a mere bruised purple presence on the horizon.

Gabe's shadow filtering his sight allows him to see in the gloom easily, though the dimness is incongruent with his memories of the place.
Is this another thing we've changed? Or is the power of the gods actually waning... and what does that mean for holding back the dark? Questions for another time, focus on the task at hand now.

Samen sighs at the intrigue surrounding a simple meal. Nevertheless, duty calls. Making no attempt to hide himself, he beckons to Qizz. "Let's go. We don't want to keep them waiting."

Samen, after a few minutes of dreary streets, your eye catches a strange chalk drawing in a side alley. It has a small magical aura, but like a cave opening, it seems to suggest a slumbering danger within.

Samen peers into the aura, attempt to ascertain its meaning.

When he sees, he is disgusted and explains it to his compatriots. "Ugh. City-wide mind control. A nasty business. This one seems more insidious than usual. It magnifies the certainty and pride of every individual, leading to extreme tribalism. It masks itself behind the certainty that it's only affecting other people, so discovering it, usually the first step in unwinding the magic, rather only serves to strengthen its effect. The strongest deception comes from the mind of the victims."

Samen examines it closer to see if he can find a link between this graffiti and the larger scope of the enchantment.

Spellcraft: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (18) + 25 = 43

I can't believe you invented magic social media :P

Gabe, curious as to why the group has stopped, runs down a nearby wall to check out the situation. "Anything we can do about it? That doesn't sound good thing to just... leave for innocents to stumble across."

Samen, you can trace the roots of the spell back to the Temple. Even if you ripped out this small tendril, it would likely grow back by tonight. You could make an educated guess that this is one of the problems Dove needs you for.

"For now, we should stick to the plan, but keep in mind that Dove's decision making ability may be compromised. I can't unravel the spell from here. Surprise surprise, it's coming from the temple.

We need to move quickly, the enchantment will be stronger at night."

You arrive at the Temple grounds. Now that you have longer to observe, the divisions between Cauldron and Warrior are apparent even here. It has not yet become aggression, but the simple fact that you see two distinct groups of people that should be united is worrisome.

The courtyards of the Temple are a large town unto themselves, with many stone outbuildings housing everything from storage, to weapons, to forges, and, of course, many stairways. The smell of baking ashbread is everywhere.

You spot the guard-captain you met earlier (Cordo's superior officer). He is dressed in full mithril plate, but still moves gracefully. He gives you a brief nod before lowering his visor and motioning to someone behind him,

Lord Captain Dove looks older, and even frailer than ever. There is a Large scratch-scar, two thumbs widths at least, raked down the right side of his face, narrowly avoiding the eye. Blessedly, both those eyes are still clear and sharp as an eagle's beak.

Dove gets to business without no preambles. "Have you seen the enchantment yet?" His voice is reedy, tired.

Samen nods. "We saw an outlying support of it in an alley on the way in. Who started this?"

"Someone endebted to the Cauldron Lady. Hers is the power that wanes as the phoenix grows. I don't know who, specifically."

He smiles and points to his own head, then says, "Of course, that could the curse working on me, since I have never been well-disposed toward the bloodthirsty tenets of that particular deity anyway. However, what I need from you is to stay cool-headed, think things through, and destroy the curse. It lies beyond the narrow tunnels you'll find below this armor storage."

"Alright, fair enough. If it affects us, it'll just make us think you're all idiots, which isn't too far off what we normally work with. Any recommendations on how to destroy it? I assume it will be defended. If we can get in and annihilate it before its defenders detect us, it should be easier to deal with them."

"You won't be destroying an 'it'. You'll be destroying a person. This is powerful enough magic that someone is actively channeling it, or it would go out of control. Kill them first, then nullify the curse."

He hands you a Rod of Negation, caster level 20th.

"Wouldn't killing whomever is channeling the effect loose the magic anyway? I suppose our timing will have to be excellent to destroy the controller then the source of the magic. Or are they one and the same? I would imagine that would be taxing to maintain..." Gabe finds his hand drawn back to the worry stone in his pocket as he overthinks the situation. He eyes the magic rod then looks to Samen to be the one to control it. Almost flippantly, "Does that thing come with instructions?"

"Given a few more seconds, Samen likely already knows 'the thing' better than I do, with that strange mind of his." He shakes his head, realizing perhaps the irony of those last few words.

"Yes well. Your excellent timing and positive attitudes are what I treasure most in our relationship. I have dragons to placate." And with that, he walks around a different corner, his eagle-guard protecting his back as he slides into the gloomy streets.

I've got positive attitude positively bleeding from the corner of my eyes, she jokes bitterly, silently to herself. On the outside, she gives a small, reassuring smile to Qizzlvuts, who seems agitated by all the sudden appearances.