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@GM Otha - I was just wondering if the ray attack should be provoking Attacks of Opportunity from our characters? Normally it would as we are all in melee combat with the creature and it is using a ranged attack.
@Jack - If you want some of the attacks on your character you can have them. I would not want to be undermining your character's machismo with a glorified walking tree. :)
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Pity to destroy such a masterpiece, thinks Vladek Odradek, renowned sculptor of Sothis, but as they say, some things were made to be broken!
He keeps his distance, and tries ornamenting the statue with a work of an even finer Art: His trademark Ourobouros Curse....
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As Daathiel and Alie look on and Yuri has an uncharacteristic miss, the combined attacks of the Treant, Jack, and Qadathra break through the adamantine shell of the medusa statue, shattering it in an explosion of adamantine shrapnel...
As the shrapnel disperses, the only other remains of the Medusa Triumphant is a strange sooty ash on the floor where it stood...and amidst of the ash, the inserted longsword lies as well...
Also at this time, the stone block at the chamber’s eastern end descends to reveal an alcove wherein stands a second medusa statue...
COMBAT Over! Pathfinders Victorious!
The Treant tries to dodge the shrapnel.
@GM Otha - So the Treant is now at (-27) on the board or (-20) if you believe that DR/10 slashing would apply against the shrapnel.
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Daathiel examines the ash of the statue.
"The poem said:
'...Take the Soot inside my Core
Scatter Ash past Stony Door
Walk into the Scarlet Light
Witness when the Dead had Sight
Two Sad Tales are both revealed
Truth and Fraud, No more concealed
Newfound Wisdom tastes of Bile
And never shall We reconcile.'
This must be the soot inside the statue's core.
And that alcove was just revealed by the stone block moving out of the way, so I suppose it is 'past Stony Door.'
Should I scatter some ash there once we are all ready to proceed?"
Daathiel will reactivate his Ring of Blinking and Wand of Shield before doing so.
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Rokgurn shrugs at Jack's comments as he begins healing his walking tree. He asks Alie to use his wand of Mage Armor on himself and the Treant. Rokgurn then refreshes Heightened Awareness with another wand.
"I think a softer metal would have yielded a better explosion. Imagine how much energy was expended even to crack open the statue? So, yes a waste of the ability but only because the medusa was made of solid adamantine."
(If needed because DR/10 slashing was not applied to the shrapnel damage.)
@GM Otha - The Treant is now fully healed and has Mage Armor up. How much time has passed in these two rooms with the two combats and the retrieval of the treasure in the tank? I am wondering if Daathiel's Good Hope spell is still up.
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Yuri and Jack evade the shrapnel while the Treant evades most of the damage. After Rokgurn heals the Treant (I'd say shrapnel could be both piercing and slashing so no DR), Daathiel gathers some of the ashes and tries to mimic the poem by spreading them in the newly revealed alcove. ..
The air in that area shimmers and glows with a crimson radiance. One round later, blasts of light radiate outward, striking each of you. You find yourselves, in ghostly form seemingly elsewhere...
Braziers light a general’s command tent. The general himself—a towering man with handsome features, clad in elaborate breastplate armor—stands on the edge of an elegant Qadiran rug. A gaggle of junior officers, priests, and aristocrats stand before the tent flap and an armor mannequin. None of the people there acknowledge any of you...
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Taking advantage of being stuck in some vision, Jack started exploring the environment and trying to take everything and everyone in. He stared specifically at the general's armor. "4528 was the Great Purge, so I'm assuming around then. Pot calling the kettle black, but that is a bit garish and extra. There's no reason to spend the additional coin on looking fabulous on a shell that is keeping you alive. Strikes me as someone who is unwilling to get in a scrap himself, splurging on appearances instead of practicality, and who would be willing to fight for that?"
He glanced back to the others and offered an apologetic shrug. "Also, Bartolomae Adella is fish tank corpse."
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“Well, let’s get it over with,” the general intones haughtily, gesturing to an Arodenite priest carrying a fancy cage containing two fine roosters. The general casts several types of honeyed grain on the ground to the waiting fowl, but to everyone’s chagrin, and the general’s fury, the sacred birds do nothing. After an impossible silence, one of the nobles mutters in an awkward tone, “They… do not eat.” To everyone’s horror, the general grabs the sacred animals by their feathered necks, storms over to an elegant bathtub and holds them under the soapy water, hissing, “Then by Aroden’s damned eyes, let them drink!”
The shocked gathering is paralyzed by the general’s hideous blasphemy. He stands seething at the edge of his tub, the limp, dripping carcasses gripped tightly in either hand, glowering at the witnesses to his monstrous sacrilege. Finally, a junior tribune blurts out, “Brother, I will fetch your warhorse!”
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The general rouses from his rage and drops the ruined birds on the rug, striding to the tent’s entrance. “Tribune!” he shouts to the nearest lieutenant, indicating the long map-covered table. “Gather my battle plans! We march on this Qadiran rabble at once!”
The military tribunes scatter to their duties. When the general attempts to plow past the collection of onlookers at the tent entrance, a red-haired prelate grabs him by his rich cape and speaks in a cold, furious tone:
“I know not what will happen this day, Bartolomae, but be assured of this: the tree of thy family shall wither and bear fruit no more. This is the last of your blasphemies in Taldor’s name. From this day forward your name will be cursed along with that of your whole arrogant brood!”
The general shoves the indignant cleric to the ground, and shaking his blade hisses, “You may thank your damnable Aroden that I have other blood to spill today, lackey; otherwise I would take Infensus Mucro and run you through!”
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The general’s tent is now empty. The mannequin lies on its side, the dead birds still heaped on the floor. The brutal cacophony of battle can be heard in the distance.
Suddenly, the general bursts through the tent flap, gore-caked sword in hand, face smeared with dirt, blood spattered over his flamboyant breastplate. The military tribune who broke the silence earlier follows him, also splashed with the filth of battle.
“All is lost, Cadimus,” he pants to the younger man. “Those damned dervishes rolled up my left flank as though it were made of paper!”
Cadimus’s silence is his assent. The general shakes his sword before his own face, cursing, “You! You have done this to me! All of it! You have murdered us all!”
He turns to Cadimus, nodding as though finishing a conversation. “‘Sheathe me in my master’s blood’ was the line, no? To put the damned thing back to sleep?”
Cadimus nods back, still speechless. Staring into space, trancelike, the general whispers hoarsely to him. “Do what you can to salvage this, my brother. Beldam would have our heads. Pressure Micheaux to aid us—he will be king before long and we must use what leverage we have. Perhaps you could prevail upon our dear sister to utilize her...relationship, with him? If not...ha! Maybe Asmodeus will assist. I go to face the gods’ wrath. You are the head of our House now, brother. Bury me with sufficient irony.”
A strange look of calm comes over the general’s face as he gets to his knees at the corner of the rug. He plants the pommel of Infensus Mucro and lifts his armor at the waist, allowing the blade’s point to taste his bare abdomen. With a suddenness that makes Cadimus gasp, Bartolomae springs forward, forcing the blade up into his chest—a torrent of blood splashes out onto the Qadiran rug, the florid stain spreading as he collapses to the ground. A moment later, a vertiginous blackness sweeps everything away...
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A sense of vertigo strikes you as the vision dissolves and you find yourself back where Daathiel spread the ashes...and then, suddenly the feeling returns and you find yourself in a different setting...
A fire burns in the hearth of this well-appointed room. Three men stand about a bed—a handsome man with rolled-up sleeves holding a crying newborn, and two others. In the bed lies a frightfully pale, sweat-drenched woman, her dark hair cascading over damp pillows. Her bedclothes are soaked with blood, and her eyes stare into space; she is not breathing.
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Jack gestured at the man. "Stavian the Zeroth. More accurately, Stavian the First's dad." He made the same general gesture towards the new mother. "Dear Sister that Cadimus leveraged, as he put it. Family is the worst..."
He trailed off as he looked at the newborn and back to the mother. "But Stavian's mom was Finara, not Dathiel's future vampire victim. So either Micheaux was unnecessarily hands on or we have a right bastard here."
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“Just as well,” the handsome man says, a single tear running down a cheek, “with all her ranting about seeing the boy grow up. She knew she could never have been a part of his life.” His attention turns to the child he holds. He nods approvingly, wipes the tear from his cheek, then lays three fingers on the squealing infant’s forehead. “Stavian,” he croons. “You, too, shall be king in your turn.”
“Our bargain, Micheaux,” stammers Cadimus, almost absently. The other man’s eyes flash with grief, and then fill with anger as he whirls upon Cadimus. When he speaks, his voice is cold and grim.
“Our ‘bargain’ died with your sister, Cadimus. You are the last of your damned line, and even that is too much. But I shall grant you one last mercy nonetheless—leave Taldor by dawn, and I’ll not send my army after you. The next time I see an Adella face in my empire, it had best be in a grave.”
He turns with the baby in his arm, walking regally for the door, oblivious to Cadimus’s trembling fury. “We go to meet our destiny,” he coos to the squealing infant.
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Jack watched the rest of the vision before finally laughing in spite of himself. "This is such a wonderful amount of screwed up. I wonder what the line of succession would be for our quest giver for being a great-nephew? of Stavian. Probably doesn't have any significant claim unless Eutropia kicks it..."
His expression turned serious as he stared in the imagined direction of the sword. "Ah. Probably should not give the blade to him."
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While the interpersonal drama is fascinating, Daathiel also tries to figure out the historical and geopolitical implications.
This should be documented for the Society, at least. Though I have no wish to get involved in Taldan politics.
He makes mental notes of everything, meaning to write it down when the visions end.
"Yes Jack, it seems that Euphemi Finara is not in fact Stavian’s 'sainted mother'. And so the plaque installed at the Lion Sleeps Inn many years later - backdated with an anachronistic title for Micheaux - was... hmmmm...
Why place Micheaux at the Inn, which is presumably close to where the bastard child was born? A deliberate attempt to hint at the truth, with 'May Divine Providence Reward Him as He Deserves' being a veiled hope for an ill fate to befall him? Maybe the plaque was installed by Adella sympathizers?"
Daathiel can't quite figure out why, 30 years after the fact, somebody installed a back-dated plaque at the Inn.
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In the same bedchamber, now oppressively hot, the same woman lies lifeless in the bed, though someone has mercifully closed her eyes. Micheaux and the infant are gone and Cadimus hands a baton to the apron-clad man.
“Hide this downstairs before we leave, Parsimus. I know you saw it in the bastard’s eyes. He has no intention of honoring even his last promise—he’ll have his thugs on us within the hour. We must seek the only safe place left to us—the Tomb of the Iron Medusa. There we can rest and regroup and make plans for the future. The baton contains the key to finding the tomb—if I die before you, ensure that someone you trust knows where you’ve hidden it. Someday, someone will need to know the truth.”
He looks over at his sister’s dead body. “And secure a coffin for my sister. I am not going to leave her here. She comes with us.” He turns to face the other man, who still seems frozen in shock. “Go, damn you!” Cadimus spits, and finally the other man turns and leaves the room.
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"The Adellas are truly abandoned by Aroden,” Cadimus says with dismal certitude to an empty room. “The gods laugh at us...but perhaps my brother was right after all...perhaps there is one left who might listen...”
He pauses, a look of dread and determination washing over his countenance. He takes up his dead sister’s hand in his own, holds it to his brow, and then utters a prayer of blasphemy.
“Asmodeus! Asmodeus, I call on thee! Blood and my everlasting soul if you would but allow me to protect my family and bring my dear sister back to me!”
A sudden light flickers in air, shimmering as if heated by fire. Then the shimmer grows more substantial, becoming a shapeless mass of tangible evil and immense power. A voice sweet as honey and sharper than any razor emanates from the malevolent presence.
“A bargain? You would seek to bargain with me, mortal?”
You then see the vision dissolve and find yourselves back in the room in the alcove with the second medusa statue, vertigo affecting you even worse than before...
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Rokgurn tries to shake the fog from his mind. The druid's hardy constitution allows him to weather the transition easily.
@GM Otha - Were we physically separated from our familiars/companions or was it merely a vision? I ask this as Whisper is a figment familiar and he will disappear for the day if he is separated from my character by more than 100 feet.
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Hearing Rokgurn's suggestion, Yuri glances back and forth between the vision and his flask, trying to decide if indeed Cayden could possibly be misleading him.
Yuri's stomach manages to weather the transition back to the present well enough but his head cannot quite wrap itself around the political complexities that have been presented. "So the King o' Taldor ain't the King? Or somethin'?"
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Rokgurn shrugs completely unconcerned with these petty temporal matters.
"All this is a mere leaf drop in time for the cosmic clock. King or peasant makes little difference to the cycle of nature that is eternal."
He nods to Yuri and his flask.
"Good health to you and long life. You can return to your fortification with little worry as we all experienced the same vision."
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Jack shook his head quickly to clear up any remaining after effects from the vision. "No. Stavian was king. Even if the mother was someone other than who was expected, that wouldn't rule them out of a claim to the throne... especially after a couple of generations. This mess just means Adella has a claim to the throne if something happens to whoever is on it at the time and there isn't a closer option."
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At the same moment, the conviction that, somehow, Asmodeus noticed you observing these secret events fills each of your minds. With a flash of noxious smoke, four vile shapes manifest in the room. These devils vaguely resemble 12-foot-tall human women with large clawed wings, hideous fanged faces, and bodies clad in strips of metal and leather that seem almost to be growing from angry wounds in their flesh, and each wields a grisly metal scythe that seems almost to have grown from its arms.
You get the distinct notion that Asmodeus himself sent these creatures to prevent the secret of Stavian I’s illegitimate birth from escaping the Necropolis...
COMBAT! Round 1 - The bold may post!
Rokgurn
Treant
Alie
Daathiel
Vladek
Qadathra
Jack
Tim (-3)
Yuri
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Vladek views the proceedings ('preceedings'???) in silent rapture (although he does chuckle a bit at the risible attempt at folk-divination - thrice-damned indeed is he who is cruel to innocent animals, surrenders to mindless rage over so little, and trusts in such mountebank's magic in the first place!)...
...and to say that he "recovers" from the experience would imply that the many-seasoned chronomancer even feels there is anything to 'recover' FROM.
Hence, he is quite - almost alarmingly - prepared for what awaits upon their return to the Land of the Living.
"Oh, how predictable," Says Vladek at the sight, his voice indicating no fear but almost dripping with annoyance and disdain. "The Prince of Lies doesn't want the truth to escape its wrongful grave. Of course not." He addresses the devils directly . "Well, when we send you back to The Pit, you may tell Him I said He can go to HEAVEN!!!"
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Daathiel also recognizes these fiends.
"Preventing the spread of information. Yes, Asmodeus" - here the aasimar turns and spits on the ground - "is afraid."
He begins instructing his allies in the proper techniques for fighting such devils.
"Let them come!"
He also reactivates his Ring of Blinking and draws his wand of True Strike.
Whisper pops out to have a look at the devils himself before retreating once again into the safety of his satchel.
"Use holy weapons if you have them."
The huge tree shambles forward towards the closest devil (pink) and tries to bash it with a branch.
The buffs currently on the Treant are: Mage Armor, Good Hope, Haste, and Bard Song.
His current AC against the devils is now 29.
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Rokgurn knows something about extra-planar creatures and he has a look himself. He is a little disappointed with Whisper's brief analysis but he is barely able to recognise them himself and he looks to Daathiel for additional information.
@Daathiel - You have three questions to ask.
@GM Otha - I will wait for the answers about the devils before finishing my turn.
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Alie casts haste on the party while Daathiel preps and raises the party's morale...
The Treant moves forth to attack the pink devil...but as it reaches forth to strike the creature, it is hit by the infernal female's aura of fear emanating from it...
COMBAT! Round 1 - The bold may post!
Rokgurn
Treant (DC19 Will Save only)
Alie
Daathiel
Ashmede Devils
Vladek
Qadathra
Jack
Tim (-3)
Yuri