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Kondai has troubles as his foot kicks into the basilisk's dense body and doesn't seem to hurt it at all.
The basilisk turns to bite at him as it glares at Fran for stabbing it in the neck mere moments ago.
The sharp teeth drag across Kondai's arm, nearly peeling the skin and muscle from bone as it spins in a circle catch a glance at Dyner.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Basilisk
➤ Samna
➤ Qigiq
➤ Dyner
➤ Fran
➤ Jaxon
➤ Kondai
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FRan is turned into a stone statue as Dyner's body also begins to slow. True terror sets in as one by one the group begins to petrify.
Fran's starknife adds another cut to the Basilisk, slowly whittling its life force down while Dyner burns its face, melting one of the eyes orbs as the basilisk doesn't seem long for this world.
──────────
BOLD IS UP!:
──────────
Basilisk
Samna
➤ Qigiq
Dyner
Fran
Jaxon
➤ Kondai
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Samna cuts open the basilisk as the group paints large amounts of blood over the trio of statues. It uses every bit of blood and there wouldn't have been enough had there been one more statue.
A half dozen iruxi wearing gleaming brass breastplates over dark blue robes arrive, "We heard some fighting and came as quickly as we could." The look around as the three statues begin to slowly break apart. "Good thinking on using a basilisk's blood." The guards seem quite impressed, though the ambassador looks around frightened as she tries to figure out what happened. "What happened here?"
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The ambassador raises her hands. "These folks saved my life. As thanks," She digs around in her satchel and produces an opal statuette of a tyrannosaurus. "Please accept this as my gratitude." "Now what is it you wished to speak to me about. I am a bit shaken from this whole ordeal and would like to head to my room."
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Kondai puts a shoulder around the ambasador and leads them away from the others for a second.
"Listen, Ambasador. I'm not going to mince words here. We want you to help these . . . eh . . . iruxi see the light and start trading here. You putting your name behind it would help. Now of course you don't want to look weak, I get that. But, well, I am lothe to admit it, and don't tell this to my companions, but sometimes you need to trade.
"My tribe, we were a group of mighty warriors up near the silver mount. We thought we needed nothing, that trade was beneath us. If we saw something, we took it. There was another tribe, much weaker, named the Tuffles. Now, they were weaker, sure, but they were damn good farmers. They offered us trade, food for protection. But like the fools we were, we didn't listen. We thought they were weak, and crushed them.
"But a few summers later, our tribe had grown too big, and there weren't enough tribes to raid. Food was scarce, and our people became lethargic from hunger. And then . . . well . . . we were too weak to defend ourselves with the technic league struck. They killed my tribe to the last man, save for me.
"So, yes, I understand that trade can be bothersome and more than a bit of a pain . . . but take it from someone whose learned the lesson the hard way, don't give up this opportunity. Trade is essential . . . even if it doesn't seem like it at first."
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“You have come a long way to negotiate a trade agreement—and from what I am told, you do not belong to this Vidrian you represent. Why come all this way to speak for another?” She looks at Kondai curiously as he explains his tale. “Explorers and adventurers like to talk about their great achievements, I find. But not so often do they tell tales of their mistakes. Will you share with me a time you failed?”
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Kondi whips around to see if the ambassador is speaking to someone else before turning back around.
”You-your joking right? I told you about the time a decision me and the rest of the higher ups at the tribe made a bad decision and got almost all of us killed, and you don’t consider that a failure?”
“Look, just. . . Trade is good. Do it.”
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"Surely you understand how a potential alliance might be beneficial to us. The Pathfinder Society was recently reminded how important it is to cultivate a diverse array of allies when we led an assault on the Gallowspire, the Whispering Tyrant's erstwhile prison. We lost many valuable agents, and many would consider the exercise a failure."
Samna purses her lips. "I'm sure all of the people we saved in the Gravelands would disagree, however."
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"Others and I tracked a beast that had been stealing fish from the docks at Aaminiut. Unfortunately, once we were inside the cave, I lost track of the beast's path. The caves were like a maze, and the beast ambushed us from behind after I had chosen the wrong path and missed its lair. Many died to its fangs before we brought it down."
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Jaxon glares at the ambassador. "What it's not enough that we tell you why it's so important? You want a song and dance too? Should I tell you about the time I got caught holding the bag after all my mates slipped away? Or how the guard took turns cracking my skull with their batons when I wouldn't let them by to nab those fleeing? Or maybe when the kingpin of the prison put a price on my head and made a month of my life a living hell. Got shiv'ed repeatedly that month and ended up spending more time in the infirmary breathing out of a tube than sleeping in my cell. I got scars and missing teeth to show it all, Lady."
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"This we can agree on, isolationism brings nothing to anyone. Even those treaties made between nations or large organizations, are ultimately still agreements between people, and when brokering such agreements, I prefer to understand as much as I can about those I'll be dealing with." She explains not looking the least bit convinced and puts things down to a matter of fact as she seems a bit put off by Jaxon and Kondai. "While you may be allied with Vidrian, I cannot commit to anything at this time. Having just had an assassination attempt against me I should pack up and head back home at once." She raises the drink. "Thank you for saving my life." She leans back and swallow the contents of a stiff drink as a small trail traces down the scales of her chin. "Perhaps we can talk more in the future." She sets the glass down on the counter and bids you farewell as she heads back to her room.
Returning from your meeting with Kesstraka, you find Eras and Calisro hunched over a table, reviewing the documents you procured earlier this morning, and discussing their strategies and options for tomorrow’s audience with the council. Their attention turns immediately to you, however as you enter the room. "Were you able to secure Kesstraka’s support for tomorrow?"
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Both Calisro and Eras look at each other, gravely concerned over the mention of an assassination attempt. "Let the Iruxi authorities deal with that situation for now." Eras looks over your bloodstained clothes. "I am afraid we would have little more time than a quick change and a fast shower."
“Well, that's a bit disappointing,” Calisro sets her glass down. “Having Kesstraka’s support would have gone a long way towards getting this trade deal in the bag. But the day’s not done just yet. We have one more lizardfolk for you to wrangle.”
Eras rolls his eyes and sighs slightly at Calisro’s comment, before resuming his previous pleasant demeanor. “Other than the fact that they prefer the term ‘iruxi,’ and that we wouldn’t want to imply any disrespect by comparing them to farm animals, my colleague here is correct: there is one more local whose support we hope you can secure. It’s one of the members of the Council of Stars, the ruling body of Ekkeshikaar that we’ll be arguing our case to tomorrow. His name is Lashweather—apparently he gained it in his youth, when he served as a weather mage aboard an iruxi…” he coughs meaningfully “…shall we say, ‘privateering vessel?’”
This time it’s Calisro who rolls her eyes, jabbing Eras playfully in the ribs. “The word you want is ‘pirate,’ Eras. No need to dance around it here.”
Eras frowns uncomfortably. “If we’re too loose with our words in private, it becomes all the easier to slip up and say it in person. And the last thing we need is to offend the man.”
Calisro snorts. “I’ve never known a pirate who couldn’t handle being called a pirate. Hells, it’d probably be a good way to win him over.”
“With any luck,” Eras retorts, “we won’t need to win him over. Our sources indicate he’s predisposed towards our cause, the problem is that he apparently hasn’t been seen in days and isn’t responding to messengers. We’re worried he may not show. Apparently, it wouldn’t be the first time. So, we want you to head to his observatory—it’s a tower on the edge of the city, you can’t miss it—and make sure he’ll be there tomorrow.”
“And try not to do anything that’ll make him change his mind about voting our way, yeah?” Calisro adds playfully.
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The trek to Lashweather’s observatory takes about 15 minutes and is largely uneventful.
The observatory takes the form of a spiraling white stone tower, worn smooth by age or craftsmanship, that rises some forty feet into the air before widening rapidly to create a circular platform, covered by a glass dome, creating the overall impression of a giant egg in a stone nest. A set of chimes made from hollowed bones hangs next to the only visible entrance, a round stone door at ground level.
You arrive just as the darkness begins to set in and the front door appears to be locked.
There appears to be one light source lit at the top of the tower.
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After persistently banging on the door and ringing the chimes a very disgruntled iruxi answers the door. "What? What is it you could possibly need and be interrupting me at this hour?" He jerks his head around to each of you irritably and a bit in shock as he notices Fran weilding a hatchet near the door. "What is the meaning of this?"
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He waves his hand dismissively, "Bah, I am far too busy for such things." He tries to shoo you away but quickly realize how adamant Jaxon is. "Get in here and you can talk while I work." He holds the door open impatiently "And you had better be quick about it."
It seems as though every inch of space in this cluttered tower is spoken for. Rising from cramped living quarters on the ground floor, successive floors require navigating a narrow, meandering path between pieces of furniture piled nearly to the ceiling with books and tomes on astrology, astronomy, and weather patterns, both magical and mundane, as well as star charts and the various tools used to make them. Only on the top floor is there any space to speak of, with the various desks and tables all pushed to the edge of the circular room, leaving a large circle in the middle where various constellations have been inlaid into the stone floor in silver.
Lashweather insists on consulting his telescope, as well as various charts, notes, and books while he speaks. "As Ekkeshikaar’s head astrologer, it’s vital that I be able to perform certain divinations to determine what lies in store for the city and help them prepare for it." He jots down some notes. "When is this meeting?"
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Lashweather continues to jot down notes. "That won't do. Won't do at all. I am tracking a very rare celestial alignment that won't end until several days after." He seems mired in thought as Kashkura seems to have gotten to him a little at the door. "Though there might be another way. A divination ritual, of sorts, that would allow me to gain some of the insights from this celestial convergence. It is called the cho’aatan." He walks across the room and grabs a book, flipping through the pages.
"Maybe we can help you with these divinations? Maybe make it so you could go to the meeting tomorrow?"
He looks each of you over curiously. "Likely not, but you can certainly try. It is a very dangerous ritual that I will need bodyguards to protect me against rogue elementals."
"Fine," He slams the book shut. "I am only going to explain this once. This is a very short attunement that will cause elementals to appear within the ritual circle. Your job will be to keep the elementals away from me. If I am hurt I can very well lose the ritual, ruining the entire attunement. These constellations on the floor," He points to various runes on the floor. "will be magically charged by the ritual attunement, causing them to bestow effects in line with the constellations’ meanings to those who stand on them." Lashweather willingness to go into further detail on the effects of the floor constellation seems to be cut short as he seems quite perturbed by you.