The nice thing about combating spirits is that there is often nothing to clean off my blade afterwards. I walk around the pagoda, wondering if it is this monument that the spirits are bound to.
Hotcha jumps for joy as a ghost disappears from her fireball!
But… she (eventually) exercises a bit of self-control for decorum’s sake. She kneels before the wall of names.
“You guys gotta heal up. Could one o’ya leave a goblet here? I’d like to meditate… offer prayers to the monks we just defeated, and think a bit on how I can be a bigger help in battle. I feel like my fairy nature and my training really combine well! And I think I did good, but I can do better!”
There doesn’t seem to be an immediately apparent way to put these ghosts to rest. Perhaps dealing with the greater haunting of the temple will allow their spirits to move on.
“You guys gotta heal up. Could one o’ya leave a goblet here? I’d like to meditate… offer prayers to the monks we just defeated, and think a bit on how I can be a bigger help in battle. I feel like my fairy nature and my training really combine well! And I think I did good, but I can do better!”
"Of course," I say absently, bending down to place the item on the ground beside her.
There's nothing here but old corpses and older names. I sigh and pray briefly to Irori. There is no perfection without change. I hope you achieve it.
Wu Xin, a devout follower of Irori, hands Hotcha her goblet.
He then goes and tries to aid Esh in identifying anything useful.
"Yog'Moi, can the Lord of Thunder heal us today?"
Xin's assistance does not lead to any new revelations.
Hotcha fills the goblet with frothy, rose-scented ale and jumps in fully-clothed to bathe in it!
There she feels the liquid against her skin. She lets a leg dangle over the side, and the lazy pendulum motion reminds her of a jellyfish. There was a master whose style contrasted Hotcha’s faerie fireballs. It’s not about strength or power, he said—which is music to the ears of a fairy who certainly lacks those things! Ya gotta be fluid. You have to be like water.
Hotcha contemplates Master Spiegel’s advice as she soaks in the booze, her submerged limbs hanging loose like the tentacles of a jellyfish…
"If you give me some time to see to your wounds, yes, He can"", the hobgoblin says with a sly wink.
The technical-virgin beverage does not inebriate the fairy (or so she’ll tell you), but gives just enough of a buzz to clear her mind. Once that’s outta the way, Hotcha starts taking a better look at the pagoda. She prays for the enlightened ones, adding a no offense meant from the fireballs! Then she contemplates what is written. Names of men… what about the words of gods? Her emerald eyes scan the wall for Celestial text. She can read it!
Studying the names doesn’t offer any more insights than you have already gleaned.
Hotcha submerges her head into the foamy booze for a gluttonous gulp, then… after leaning against the goblet—yes, leaning! No, certainly not trying and failing to tip it over!—she decides a big person can dump the goblet when he feels like doing so.
She cheerfully approaches Ahmitar, practically dancing toward the little big person—because dancing is a joyous and practical thing to do, and not to cover up that she’s staggering. Droplets fly from the fairy’s wings as she flutters them dry, filling the air with the scent of floral beer.
“Oh, I love prayer time! I think Irori’s followers do to—but surely they compete to revere the Master of Masters. And didn’t we just do that?” She points to the names of the enlightened with an arm that’s steady as a jellyfish tentacle (or a lush’s arm). “Is it the enlightened we just faced? What of the names of the Broken Rebus faction? I suppose they have rebuses too, but theirs are broken?”
At some point during the hour, if there is a healing tool she can handle, Hotcha will hop on Wu Xin’s back and fix him up!
While Hotcha explores the site and attempts to dig into the history of the place, Yog'Moi gets out his healer's kit and tends to the wounded.
”From what I understand, all of the monks on both sides of the conflict died when the Broken Rebus turned on their brothers and sisters,” Ahmitar says. ”Nobody would have remained to inscribe their names on the pagoda. The ghosts you fought were the temple’s defenders. Those further east are the spirits of the Broken Rebus splinter group.”
Hotcha is saddened by this. “I can’t imagine one side turning on the other… and now the spirits remain in the temple. Why hold a grudge if you’re all dead?
“Maybe if we defeat the spirits on the east side too, we can have a good talk with all of them!”
That’s not the liquor talking. Just Hotcha being Hotcha…
Hotcha had not yet bathed in Wu Xin’s sake, though it was offered an hour ago. Thus, the pink sake is still clean, so…
Hotcha dunks her face in for a sip before throwing her body in! She needs to wash off after walking all over Wu Xin to patch him up. It’s not an easy task for a fairy, but with everyone else at the dojo being way bigger than a sprite, Hotcha is well practiced cat healing big people.
Wu Xin was very badly wounded though.
“Ya feeling better, Wu Xin? Those ghosts were tough! But battling here was an inspiration. I thought of my days at the dojo, and… well, you’ll see! I just gotta get that excitable fairy nature under control. Which I will… ’cauuuuuuse thaaaat’s a stereotype! Yeah. Whimsical schmimsical, I’ll show that Big Book o’ Little People how cool, calm and collected a fairy can be when she feels like it!
“Collected schmollected!” Hotcha resists the urge to keep doing that with other words.
”From what I understand, all of the monks on both sides of the conflict died when the Broken Rebus turned on their brothers and sisters,” Ahmitar says. ”Nobody would have remained to inscribe their names on the pagoda. The ghosts you fought were the temple’s defenders. Those further east are the spirits of the Broken Rebus splinter group.”
"I am the guide for mortal minds and souls. I shall offer kindness and aid to the lost, the frightened, the confused, and the dead. I shall calm restless spirits, and I shall banish violent ones with what compassion I can provide without endangering others," I pray quietly, twirling my pendant around as I read the celestial script.
I sigh and stuff the pendant back down my shirt, rolling my shoulders out. Putting spirits to rest was often an emotionally draining, melancholy task. I am glad I have my companions with me.
While Hotcha explores the site and attempts to dig into the history of the place, Yog'Moi gets out his healer's kit and tends to the wounded.
"Thank you, my friend, says Xin, feeling somewhat better as health returns to his withered frame.
[b]“Ya feeling better, Wu Xin? Those ghosts were tough! But battling here was an inspiration. I thought of my days at the dojo, and… well, you’ll see! I just gotta get that excitable fairy nature under control. Which I will… ’cauuuuuuse thaaaat’s a stereotype! Yeah. Whimsical schmimsical, I’ll show that Big Book o’ Little People how cool, calm and collected a fairy can be when she feels like it! “Collected schmollected!”
Hotcha resists the urge to keep doing that with other words.
Xin looks over his shoulder to the fairy striding up and down his back. "You are a model of sobriety, Hotcha. Thank you, I do feel much better." Standing, he pulls his armor back on.
"Whimsy isn't a liability. Your humor and energy are sometimes all we have in a grim situation. Think of it like Esh's battle fury. It's not who he is, but it is a part of him we need from time to time. I would very much regret the day you rid yourself of whimsy."
He stretches. "I think we're all ready to proceed? Let's start with this door to the north."
Several wooden tables occupy this dining hall. A wooden door to the north allows entry into the room from the outside, an open doorway to the west connects to a kitchen, and smaller doorways to the south connect to the temple’s courtyard.
Entering the room causes the tables to fill with ghostly images of monks engaged in prayer as they begin their meal. Only a few seconds later, ghostly depictions of the Broken Rebus monks manifest and begin their attack, sending incorporeal tables and tableware flying throughout the room!
The ghostly images then fade away. Searching the refectory doesn't turn up anything of value.
The door to the west is a simple kitchen with a large stone oven and a sparse pantry. There are several objects of value in the pantry, including a moderate potion of fire resistance in a spherical glass vial, a decanter of endless water, and greater holy prayer beads.
Hotcha is giddily nodding along to Wu Xin’s sage advice. “Ya know something, Xin, ’cause I know something—you’re right! …which means, you do know, and knew before I did that I gotta embrace whimsy whether it’s a fairy thing or a me thing! Ha! Whimsy’s my middle name! Well, it’s really Pomegranate, but that’s a whimsical fruit. I mean, what’s in it, bubbles? Why’s it look better than it tastes? Who cares! Red is pretty and it’s good fo—”
Suddenly there is an overturned table where Hotcha used to be. Did she dodge in the nick o’ time?
Nope.
A muffled voice cries from under the table, “LiTtLe HeLp?”
"HEY NOW!!!", the hobgoblin yells as his floppy bits and pieces do what they can to avoid the deadly barrage.
Emotionally draining, melancholy, and painful, I amend, grunting as a ghostly plate careens directly into my esophagus. I choke and drop to the ground, gagging a bit before I can catch my breath. That was exceedingly painful. My mood sours, and even finding the Irorian prayer beads doesn't lift it. They would be better utilized by Yog'Moi, with his greater grasp of divine magics. I mentally recite the 15 Wisdoms, letting the long memorized aphorisms soothe my mood. It helps a little.
Xin dives for the floor, but too slowly, taking the ghostly barrage full in the face. Before he stands up, he holds up the Master's Rebus he wears around his neck, just in case.
He pulls the table off of Hotcha and turns to look Esh over with a critical eye. "You okay?" he asks.
He pulls the table off of Hotcha and turns to look Esh over with a critical eye. "You okay?" he asks.
"All except for my pride," I grumble, my voice only a little hoarse, but give him a nod and a smile anyway. Xin takes his duties seriously, and it would not do to have him distracted worrying about me.
"You?" I reply in kind, eyeing him and Hotcha. Yog'Moi inexplicably seems to have entirely avoided all projectiles, indicating that he was apparently more in Hei Feng's good graces than normal. For the moment at least.
"Just a few bumps and bruises. I should have investigated before we went in. I'll do that from now on. Why don't you hang back until we get ourselves in a real scrape? No point in all of us getting blasted."
He turns to Yog'Moi and Hotcha. "Same for you. That was a waste of resources. From now on, if there's no obvious opposition, only one of us goes in first and alone. Me first."
When the team is satisfied with these two chambers, Xin leads them to the southern door. This he takes the time to check out carefully. If he is satisfied, he opens the door, but checks the room again (for haunts as well as other hazards) before entering.
The room to the south appears to be safe. Rotted hay mattresses and small wooden chests fill most of the floor space in this large shared dormitory.
Sifting through all of the chests turns up an axiomatic rune in a runestone engraved with imagery of a zuishin kami, an iron medallion talisman, a spellstrike arrow (type V), a ring of climbing, a wand of remove curse carved from a bulette tooth, half a dozen lacquered wooden holy symbols of Irori strung on rotted hemp necklaces, a small hide pouch containing 115 gp worth of tiny opals, and 218 gp in assorted coinage.
Xin hesitates. "These belonged to the monks. On the one hand, I am no thief. On the other hand, we four have looted many a forgotten hoard together."
He mulls the situation for a moment. "I suppose that the monks no longer need them and in life strove to do without material wealth. I am content. We shall take them and if we encounter any ghost who wishes to speak with us, we shall ask permission to remove them from the temple. It is we the living who must be Irori's examples."
"Yog'Moi, you're the only one among us who can use this talisman. Take it and affix it to your armor. You should also take the wand. I'll take the arrow. Who wants the ring?"
Through the ghostly tabletop pressed against her face, Hotcha watches Yog’Moi twisting and shimmying away from thrown steak knives and flying tea saucers! When freed from the crushing force, she says, “Maybe I ain’t the only one who used to be a dancer. Nice moves!”
When asked if she’s okay, Hotcha says, “I’m doing ay-oh-kay for a fairy squished by a ghost-table.
“Is that how all of the monks died here? A food-fight to the death?”
When the topic turns to resources, Hotcha says, “Sure, Xin, I can hang back. But don’t worry too too much about healing me up. I believe Cayden sees I’m a good girl, never forgetting my prayer’s and never praying dry. If one o’ ya gents’ll be so kind I’ll be right as rain in a jiffy.
“Feel free to explore while I meditate. I can’t pick up all the heavy things you guys wanna keep anyway.”
Hotcha plunges into Esh’s goblet, tapping the brim and then curling up as the goblet conceals her in foamy liquid. The girl drinks like a fish, and she breathes like a dolphin.
The hobgoblin accepts his share of the bounty with a big toothy grin and affixes the iron medallion to the girdle that keeps his gut from leaving him for greener pastures. "You two doing ok? I stumbled and had the luck that most of the barrage flew right over my head."
Hotcha plunges into Esh’s goblet, tapping the brim and then curling up as the goblet conceals her in foamy liquid. The girl drinks like a fish, and she breathes like a dolphin.
Wu Xin puts on the ring and places the coins and gems in his pack. They can divide these things later.
He travels to the eastern door and once again looks for traps. If he finds none, he asks if everyone is ready, then opens the door and immediately searches for hazards or haunts.
A small stone walkway lines the perimeter of this open-air chamber. A sandy area in the center of the atrium surrounds a pond full of dark, dirty water. From the center of the pond rises a small stone structure with a wide, flat top. Large, open doorways lead to the north, south, east, and west.
"This is where the long-necked monster makes its lair," Ahmitar says. "Hmm... It's not here right now. Probably hunting in the forest. You'll likely have to deal with it when it returns tonight."
Hotcha loves swimming. To see all this water so filthy and gross…
“Any chance one o’ya gents knows magic that purifies water?” She contemplates the decanter of endless water. “Creating a stream could clean up a stagnant pond, but only if there’s a place for the water to flow to.”
But she knows her suggestions are futile. With a sigh, she comments, “Such a waste. I’ll bet this pool used to a very beautiful place to bathe, and reflect, and jump on lily pads.”
"We all have our part to play," says Xin. "We'll get rid of this monster. Ahmitar can do the job of cleansing when we have gone."
"I wonder if we could lay an ambush for this monster?"
Hotcha likes this idea. “Ooh! We could and we should! Say… does poison water catch fire if I hurl fire at the surface?
“One o’ ya can probably get a big bucketful to test this.” Before anyone asks, “Yes, I am projecting my limited knowledge of alcoholic beverages onto the situation at hand.
“But still, I will be hurling fireballs at the Long-Neck Monster. It might be worth the trouble to find out whether or not this poisoned water is flammable for our own safety.”
The water smells gross. Booze, which is flammable, smells like a rainbow should smell. Probably not flammable then.
“Xin, do you wanna heal up before we move on? Or shall I be the canary this time?” She adjusts her luminous skin’s amber glow to a lighter yellow. (The color comes out to be more banana-peel-yellow than canary-feather-yellow, but it’s close enough.)
"I'm alright, Hotcha. I'll take this one. Once something blows up in my face, you can take the next one." That might be what passes for Xin's sense of humor, but it's hard to tell.
When everyone is ready, Xin moves to the northern corridor and looks for traps or hazards.
Prayer and meditation aids fill the chamber, including rows of candles, dozens of bells, and multiple singing bowls, many of which are scattered haphazardly about the floor. A single silver feather lies among the detritus.
There don’t seem to be any hazards here, but when Xin enters the room, the ghostly image of a woman dressed in abbot’s robes appears. Her eyes are wide, and she seems to be channeling an impressive amount of ki energy...
I kneel and pray out to Tsukiyo, asking him to put this spirit at ease. Sadly, it seems this spirit is not interested in peace.
A faithful Iroran, Xin moves swiftly to tidy the room according the Master's teachings. He tidies the silver feather right into his pocket!
He then bows respectfully to the ghost monk, awaiting her next move.
Hotcha does not intervene. She watches the others pray, and decides that they know what they’re doing.
Still… *more* prayer can’t hurt. She reverently downs a fairy-sized cup full o’ Fire Nectar.
The ghostly monk seems placated by Xin's efforts. The ki energy dissipates harmlessly as she returns the bow, then vanishes from sight.
Let's look around to see if we can figure out what happened here. Then, if we learn nothing, repeat the procedure in the corridor to the south.
There isn’t anything of value here, so you head south. This large chamber is relatively empty save for the piles of colorful sand all about the floor and a few small tools scattered in the room’s corners. A silver feather sticks out of a pile of red sand.
When you move to claim the feather, four ghostly monks made from different-colored living sand manifest to confront you!
The sand sentries do not seem impressed by Xin’s battle cry, but Yog’Moi’s leaves one quite frightened!
Hotcha calls to Esh, “Take red; I’ll fry orange!”
As soon as Esh moves, she’ll do her little dance, vocalizing the tune that popped in her head the moment the sandmen appeared!
She then hurls fire at the orange-ish one!
She sinks into ▶️ Jellyfish Stance, in case these guys try to step on her. Or maybe she’ll do the stepping!
“Take red; I’ll fry orange!”
Dutifully I pull some fire onto my blade and charge the warrior of sand.
Uncertain about how to deal with sandmen, Yog'Moi plunders the vast repository inside his brain for valuable tidbits of information. Hopefully, he won't find himself drowning in a sea of alcohol this time!
Yog'Moi can't recall exactly what these creatures might be. They're not actually undead, though--perhaps some sort of earth elemental? He wards Esh against harm.
Hotcha gets the sandmen's gritty toes a-tapping as she launches flames at one of them. Both hit, the second strike a critical one! Though the fire burns the creature and momentarily stuns it, it also fuses its outer layer of sand into sheets of hardened glass, providing it resistance against the flames!
Esh moves in and scores a critical hit with his flaming blade, but the fire likewise hardens his foe's body into glass!
Two of the sandmen attack Esh, while the one Hotcha burned rushes at her after shaking off its stun. Esh and Hotcha each take a sandy punch. The final one attacks Xin, scoring a critical hit and getting sand in his eyes!
The hobgoblin all of a sudden finds himself being in the thick of it and when in Gorum's embrace, you do as Gorum would: fight!