Dot in here.
The Pathfinder Society has called you to Lodehollow in the Opaline Vault, capital of the shaitans' Peerless Empire on the Plane of Earth.
A radiant orb of tourmaline sheds a pale green light tinged with pink down onto the reflective surface of an octagonal hematite table. The Master of Spells Sorrina Westyr stands nearby, taut with frenetic energy. Her Shoanti companion Grave Treader seems less fitful, yet nevertheless carries a touch of anxious anticipation in her stiff expression.
Sorrina Westyr taps the table once before speaking. “We stand on the precipice of the greatest change the multiverse has witnessed in our lifetime or many of those that came before. Thanks to the tireless efforts of the Pathfinder Society, we have recovered the prison of Ranginori, one of the long-lost elemental lords. We are now poised to liberate him after his untold millennia of imprisonment. The combined might of the other elemental lords banished Ranginori, and it’s by the combined might of their elemental energies that he could be freed.”
She motions to Grave Treader, who places a magnificent war pick and a crystalline decanter on the table. “These are the artifacts Fossilblight and The Breath of Lysianassa, powerful conduits of earthen and aquatic energies, respectively. We have communed with Ranginori directly to secure his mastery of winds, so all that remains is a source of unfathomably hot flame.”
Sorrina touches the top of the table, causing a series of tiny hexagonal columns—like pillars of basalt—to ripple outward across the table’s surface from her hand. In their wake remains a three-dimensional representation of the Plane of Earth sculpted into the table’s dark, glossy surface. Among mountains, immense stalagmites, and columns of natural igneous rock that must rise up to some unseen cavernous ceiling is a jagged rift where roiling lava flows.
Grave Treader gestures to the rift. “The Society has identified a source of power we can use to free Ranginori, the Lord of Thunder. A scouting party blazed a path to a ruin called Kandirion’s Pyre, an ancient forge on the border of the Planes of Earth and Fire. We believe the Pyre’s forge can channel trueflame, a fire so hot that with the help of Fossilblight and The Breath of Lysianassa it could shatter the Untouchable Opal. The Society is providing you with all of these tools for the journey ahead.”
Sorrina touches the map again, and it changes to create a detailed overhead view of a crumbling ruin set on a jagged cliff surrounded by ancient stone outbuildings. “The elemental lords Ayrzul and Ymeri have a combined force of elementals that numbers in the hundreds, and these groups patrol the region around Kandirion’s Pyre. Divinations confirmed that Ymeri believes that we are close to accomplishing our goal and that we may be seeking to use trueflame to that end. However, she has spread her forces among many sites near the Plane of Earth alongside Ayrzul’s legions, so she may not be totally convinced this is our plan. We will get you as close to the Pyre as we can with magic, and it will be up to you to circumvent or eliminate their forces to access the forge. We believe this central ziggurat is the front entrance to the Pyre, accessible by a fire-shrouded teleportation circle. Ymeri’s forces erected this fiery ward to discourage trespassers. If there’s another way in, we have yet to find it.
“Take this next day to plan and make preparations. This is our best chance to free Ranginori, and we’ve only one chance to do it before the other elemental lords take notice. Do you have any questions?”
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A tall, beautiful elven male steps out of the shadows in the corner of the room - and the shadows come with him. He wears Osirian-style desert robes and carries a bow and a rapier. He smiles serenely and gestures - a short, complex sequence. The shadows coalesce into a sphere, within which appear a thousand tiny points of light, as if they were a vast distance away. As quickly as it appears, the sphere recedes. In its place is a tiny dragon, black as midnight, with a long tail ending in a barbed stinger. The creature flaps its wings and settles on the elf's shoulder.
I am Quenlariel Saelgwath, the Jacinth Sage. You may call me Quenly.
I have made this creature of elf-magic to speak for me. Since the gods of my people chose me as their vessel, I have heard no sound but their voices. And they have taught me many secrets.
I can see words upon your lips, if you face me when you speak, but it is easier by far to communicate by thought via my dragon. You need only be nearby. It will convey your thoughts to me, and mine to you.
The voice is heard in the native language of all present, but neither the elf nor the dragon has spoken aloud.
The elf looks at the tengu pathfinder and frowns.
I cannot read beaks.
Master Westyr, Grave Treader, does the Pyre stand on the Plane of Earth, or the Plane of Fire? Or precisely on the border? Will ordinary Resistance spells suffice to protect from the fire?
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"Simple minds ask simple questions, so humor me, please. The bosses have made their decision that we need to crack this egg, so we'll crack it. But, do we know WHY he was trapped in there in the first place? A jailbreak is a jailbreak, but releasing a mass murderer is not the same as releasing a thief. Right?"
Master Westyr, Grave Treader, does the Pyre stand on the Plane of Earth, or the Plane of Fire? Or precisely on the border? Will ordinary Resistance spells suffice to protect from the fire?
Sorrina seems uncertain. “Trueflame burns far hotter than any Material Plane fire. It is akin to hellfire, in that even creatures immune to fire’s caress can be burned away by its heat.
“Kandirion's Forge is on the border between the two planes, but we judged it safer to enter from the Plane of Earth.”
"Simple minds ask simple questions, so humor me, please. The bosses have made their decision that we need to crack this egg, so we'll crack it. But, do we know WHY he was trapped in there in the first place? A jailbreak is a jailbreak, but releasing a mass murderer is not the same as releasing a thief. Right?"
Grave Treader repsonds, “Long ago, two elemental lords ruled over each of the Elemental Planes. The vile tyrants formed a temporary alliance to trap their benevolent counterparts in nearly indestructible gemstones. Ranginori is one such imprisoned demigod.”
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Ravyn bows politely to the elf and dragon. "I am content to communicate with your dragon, if that is acceptable to you, she thinks, before turning to the rest of the group. Dressed in flamboyantly colored clothes and an almost garish hat, she shrugs her shoulders to settle her feathers. "Permit me to introduce myself. I am Tsukushima Reiko, a bard of some note. Many call me Ravyn due to my race. I am a scholar of the human languages and knowledges in general. While I am not a fighter, I can aid by instructing you in the strengths and weaknesses of any creature we might encounter. While she does not carry any instruments, she moves gracefully and her voice is clear and smooth, a true joy to listen to.
"This 'fire-shrouded teleportation circle.' Is it composed of truflame as well or will some sort of fire resistance help? Which element do Ayrzul and Ymeri control? Do you know of any particular dangers aside from the fire itself? And what kind of ritual do we need to perform to release Ranginori?"
"This 'fire-shrouded teleportation circle.' Is it composed of truflame as well or will some sort of fire resistance help? Which element do Ayrzul and Ymeri control? Do you know of any particular dangers aside from the fire itself? And what kind of ritual do we need to perform to release Ranginori?"
Sorrina answers, “Our scouts indicate that gravity is more akin to that on Golarion rather than what it is here . However, it is also considerably hotter there and will pose a significant hazard with prolonged exposure. Unfortunately, we have no idea exactly what the conditions in the immediate area of the Pyre and within are like.”
Grave Treader responds, “As best we can tell, Ayrzul, lord of earth, does not consider the Pyre a priority and believes we will act elsewhere to liberate Ranginori. Ymeri, queen of fire, is not so convinced, and has committed a significant number of fire elementals to the region and demanded Ayrzul do the same with his forces. Beyond those creatures, we’re not sure.”
The border of the Planes of Earth and Fire containing Kandirion’s Pyre is highly volatile. Magma plateaus of the Plane of Fire clash against impossible cliffs of the Plane of Earth, and occasionally this friction unleashes massive flares of fire so hot it incinerates even fire elementals.
Trueflame is a powerful, raw elemental fire born from the heart of the Plane of Fire. It penetrates even immunity to fire damage and is the primal flame from which some fire elementals are born. Religious and secular scholars debate whether this is a “fire of creation” that could have forged the very planes themselves.
Kandirion disappeared roughly 900 years ago when a particularly powerful flare of trueflame demolished the surface of Kandirion’s Pyre and consumed its inhabitants. However, historical records contain little information regarding Kandirion, leaving details other than their name a mystery. Kandirion was fond of incorporating fractal geometry into their magic.
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Quenly takes out a large book and opens it. The pages are blank. The elf makes a complex gesture with his hands, and the shadows that cling to him swirl and flow into the pages. As they do so, they write words and images upon the pages, and the pages turn of their own accord until the book is filled. Quenly absorbs the information as the shadow text fades away again.
How may we recognise the Trueflame? Does it appear differently to the senses, compared to other fires?
Quenly communicates his question via his creation.
How may we recognise the Trueflame? Does it appear differently to the senses, compared to other fires?
"Other than the heat, we know of no way to differentiate."
A tall and strong man approaches team of Pathfinger's and says "Good day, I'm Barm! I'm standing at your service! I think I'm going to serve well as a killing machine if it's needed. Hahahaha! I have just one question. Can I kall anyone that stands on our way!?"
"You may deal with any opposition as you see fit."
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Other than when she entered the room and took a corner seat, Marta has remained almost frozen during the briefing. When she entered the room it was with a practiced glide, her upper torso almost motionless as her feet moved deliberately as if each step were preconsidered. As always, prior to a briefing (provided there is a briefing for this mission), she has cast heightened awareness on herself. Though she has a 10' spear strapped to her back she somehow manages to make her entrance without breaking, or even touching anything.
Marta's visage is somehow a combination of perfect and off. Her head is well proportioned but too large for her body. She is of medium build with straight white hair and a discernible metallic sheen to her skin. She is wearing red and gold clothing in honor of Ragathiel with his emblem on her black cloak (gold sword crossed with red wing), the one piece of equipment that looks 'nice'. As many pathfinders, she has an assortment of ioun stones in orbit above her head, tracing a trail by her halo that, in conjunction with said halo, resembles a planetary system. At her side are a pair of shackles; on her hands a pair of gloves dripping acid, at least at first. Conscious of the damage they might do, she deactivated them when she entered the room. She wears no armor other than a scaly tunic.
Not much for pointless words and civility she says nothing and merely observes the others. At some point an aura surrounds her and changes nature as it shifts from shadowy tendrils, to white motes, then metallic stars, and finally coruscating worms. By the end of things, barring any magical misdirection, she will know the alignment of each member of the party - a task she always performs when she is teamed up with a new group. She winces at Barm's cavalier attitude towards death, and is not surprised by what her detect alignment ability shows.
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"We keep talking about how to avoid Trueflame. How to not have it kill us. Thing is, we're going to have to bathe the egg in it as part of the effort to crack it. Do we need to use the 4 elements in a specific order? Try to hit it with everything at the same time? I want to have this as clear as possible in everyone's heads."
"We believe you must first heat the Untouchable Opal with Trueflame, then douse it with water from the Breath of Lysianassa, and finally strike it with Fossilblight."
You are given one day to prepare, so you may prepare whatever spells you want and make purchases, and Sorrina and Grave Treader will be available to answer any further questions you have.
Mage Hand cannot hold a magical item, much less an artifact Quenly's dragon broadcasts the elf's thoughts.
But the thought is a good one. A smith's tongs would seem ideal, especially if crafted of adamantine or mithral. Failing that, a summoned servant of shadow might hold it in place for us.
"Eeep?" adds the dragon in its own voice.
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A stern looking troll enters, riding a large armored dinosaur. The troll’s face is completely covered by a sinister-looking mask that does not appear to even have eye slits. His armor is of the Hellknight fashion but, curiously, it is constructed from shiny scales rather than steel, dragonhide in fact. He peers about the room, as if looking for something from behind his impenetrable mask, and then appears to sigh dejectedly before removing the head-covering to reveal a remarkably ugly face.
”I am Otto O’Read, a signifer of the Order of the Nail. And this – “ he pats the dinosaur – it is in fact an allosaurus – on the head – ”this is Allison. Hail and well met, I suppose."
Otto is a rather serious fellow, fastidiously dressed, and continually checking to make sure that all the buttons on his tunic are lined up with the edge of a ruler. Talking with him, one soon forms the impression that he would much prefer to be at home, tending his garden, and that he comes by the adventurer's life rather reluctantly. "If you don't keep after them, the fields will become clogged with weeds! And the plants themselves, they run amok, this way and that, it doesn't matter if you have planted them in neat and tidy rows - they have no discipline. That's why they need me, to lend a guiding hand, to straighten them out. The natural world, left to itself - bah, pure chaos - we druids must impose ourselves, and by the very force of our will, even the plants, even the animals, all their wildness can be tamed, must be tamed. Then all will be well. At least for the moment, but we must remain vigilant, for their wildness ever seeks to find expression, and to escape from our guidance. Bah!"
Otto lets out a long sigh. "And there I would be, at home, tending the garden, if not for that cursed dog! ... I don't suppose you've seen him?" He gives a description of a missing dog that is so generic that it could easily describe almost any small furry quadraped. "Yes, it's true, I promised my mother that I would find her dog, no matter what it took, and that I would not return home without him. How was I to know that it would become a quest of not days or weeks, but years? Poor mother. I wonder if she is even still alive, or if I will ever see her again, but I am a man of my word, and I will tread every inch of Golarion - and beyond - until I find that dog. He is a very bad doggy, no discipline at all!"
"But there you have it. One does not choose the quest, one's quest chooses you. I SHALL find that dog, if it's the last thing I do... I do wonder about my azaleas though," he sighs wistfully, "do you think anyone has been watering them?"
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At first Marta thinks she has found a kindred spirit in Otto, with all that talk of order and the proper way of things. But then he keeps talking and spouting nonsense about a dog and she delivers a disapproving frown at him.
With a sigh of her own, she says, "Don't think you are going to find any dogs where we are going. Are you sure you want to come?"
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Otto looks around him at the solidness of the Plane of Earth and nods approvingly. "The ancient homeland of my people. It is good to see it with my own eyes."
Turning to Marta, Otto gives her a suspicious look. "You seem so certain that the dog is not to be found there. Interesting. I will keep a close eye on you."
While all this goes on, Allison gnaws contentedly on a large bone, ignoring the discussion around her.
So close to Kandirion’s Pyre, the Plane of Earth is a hellish, blasted landscape of twisted igneous rock and jutting spines of volcanic glass hundreds of feet tall that angle away from the incandescent glow of the horizon like glittering quills. A ceiling of stone disappears into an inky darkness overhead, and distant formations of rock a mile across rise up in looming columns. The horizon in the direction of Lodehollow entirely dark, and in the direction of Kandirion’s Pyre there is a flickering, eternal dawn of firelight that casts exaggerated shadows across the blasted realm. A highway of fire-blackened stone snakes toward that horizon, leading the way to Kandirion’s Pyre.
How close will the magical transportation bring us, exactly? Quenly asks via his dragon.
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Upon wakening Marta casts these spells every day, using a lesser metamagic rod of extend.
Upon arrival Marta casts the following spells, using a lesser metamagic rod of extend if possible:
You are given six potions of endure elements and six potions of resist energy (fire) and teleported to a place several miles from Kandirion’s Pyre. How long it takes depends on your speed and actions, but definitely more than an hour and less than a day.
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Ravyn takes the potion of endure elements, but holds onto the potion of resist fire. She casts arcane concordance, then heightened awareness (300 minutes) on herself, and mass feather step and message on the party (300 minutes).
"Does anyone else speak Terran or Ignan? If not, do you want to? I can share any language with anyone." Her eyes sweep across the blasted landscape. This looks...pleasant.
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In the morning as Otto prepares his spells Quenly waits nearby studying a small book.
As the group prepares for teleportation, Quenly goes through several spells, silently gesturing and manipulating the shadows that accompany him.
Quenly activates his overland flight and armour revelations, summoning shadows around him to form a protective layer and large, insubstantial wings.
He feeds the potion of endure elements to his dragon (since he's already got the same effect vs heat from a boon)
He casts a number of spells:
Hunter's Blessing (extended as discussed above)
False life
Magic Vestment x 3 (Quenly's shield, Allison and Otto's armour; +3 enhancement (overlaps with existing bonus))
Channel the Gift a Greater Magic Fang for himself (unless Otto has a slot to spare)
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"I would rather not fight the *entire* plane of Earth if we don't have to. If we're trying to not be noticed right away, how about cutting across country? I'm pretty good at finding my way around and the feather step spell should allow us to travel at our regular speed. But I'll go with whatever everyone wants to do."
The forces of the evil elemental lords are expecting an assault. It ls likely that the road is guarded. I agree that we should circumvent it if possible.
You travel for about two hours before reaching this point, staying parallel to the road as much as possible but trying to avoid detection, before you arrive in the southern part of this area.
A flickering tongue of fire at least a thousand feet high dances on the horizon. Resembling a thin cyclone of white-hot flames, this persistent fire marks the location of Kandirion’s Pyre. The land between here and the flame is even more jagged and broken than before. The ground smolders with heat, and smoke issues from glowing-hot fissures in the earth. A crumbling stone building—little more than partly intact, fire-blackened walls—perches atop a nearby cliff.