Zykyryz gloats about her capacity for languages, chattering on.
"Ms. pink eye's got you, Domwurd! And unlike conjunctivitis, I'm only mildly irritating! Anyways, whoever this person was doing some research on the very powers of creation. Amazing."
Grams and Sunset cannot detect any hidden creatures in the room. Nothing attacks you.
After turning some more pages, you conclude that you've learned all you can in this room… for now. There are unopened double-doors ahead that likely lead to the main chamber of the stele.
Haggra finds the doors unlocked, and safe.
An air of serenity pervades this space. Hundreds of smooth azurite and lapis lazuli pebbles decorate the chamber’s floor. The blue gems harmonize in wavy patterns that catch the light streaming in from above and reflect it into the room, giving the air a misty quality. The walls rise up 60 feet, tapering to a narrow iris. Cabochons strung together on wires sway due to the breezy downdraft, deflecting off one another with a sound akin to lithographic windchimes. Closed doors lead to other parts of the building.
Two large devices catch the eye as the doors open. To the north is a raised platform whose boundary is inlaid with diamonds, its inner rings wrought from pure gold. Several magical foci float above, directing some kind of energy into a glowing globe at its center. The second is a cylindrical apparatus standing nearly 30 feet in height that seems to be channeling sunlight through it. At its base is a large diamond that has been shaped into a prism.
Turning to face the door from in front of the structure is a humanoid figure very clearly not made of living material. His body appears to have been carved from a single block of weathered jasper, bearing dark gray, red, and brown stripes and splotches, with two titanium-tinted sapphires for eyes. A single Celestial rune has been carved into his forehead. He wears long, flowing robes and holds a large silver rod with a clenched fist on the end. Despite all this, it’s clear at a glance that this figure’s crafting was incomplete; he has no ears.
"I recognize those sapphires!"
The figure clenches his rod but makes no move to attack… for now. You will need to diffuse the situation.
The figure chuckles at princess's antics. He speaks in a measured voice. "Ahh. Fellow practitioners of the arcane and occult. And they even bring hugs! I was watching you. It seems you mean no harm."
He breaks into a stony smile. "You have a friend of mine with you."
He gestures. The doors behind him open up. Animate chairs and benches jounce into the room, arranging themselves as comfortable seating for all of you. There's even an appropriately-sized dollhouse chair for Princess.
A fancy pedestal, made from peachwood and bedazzled with diamonds and rubies, bounces into the room. A fluffy, gold-threaded silk pillow with pink tassels rolls in, crawls up the pedestal, and arranges itself on top. A statue plucks Zykyryz from Domwurd's shoulder and places her gently atop the pillow, in the center.
"Ahhh. Luxury. Treat me like this for too long, and I just might lose my head!"
The constructed man continues. "I am Vrisk. Please, get comfortable. Indulge me in a story."
The bench under Haggra squeaks loudly whenever he moves. Snarlfist's seat is unbalanced for a minute or two. It seems the furniture here has a sense of humor — not unlike Zykyryz's.
Once there was an Arclord whose goals were to master the interplay between magic and life. This Arclord's earliest studies taught her the connection between magic and music. She even founded a school for misfits."
"Since then she learned ancient techniques that allowed arcane-forged constructs to house living souls. These “proto-golems” were the oldest example of their kind, originally crafted for protection and study."
"You see, over time the creation process had been corrupted through experimentation, yielding the golems common to Golarion today. After years of trials, the Arclord finally succeeded in creating an apparatus that allowed a living soul, freshly forged in the Positive Energy Plane, to enter a host body she prepared, marked with a Celestial rune upon its forehead."
Vrisk pauses, and the rune upon his own forehead gleams. "After many days of telepathic conversation (as the initial creation had neither ears nor mouth), this soul chose a name and gender for himself, and began to study alongside the Arclord."
"In the same place where she helped bring a new soul to the surface of Golarion, the Arclord transitioned into her true self, with her creation as her closest confidant. They became close friends. Confidants discovering their true selves together."
He smiles at the skull. "Unfortunately, supply chain issues prevented her creation from ever getting ears. Some day perhaps. Nonetheless, the Arclord's friend would recognize Alyreha Tzonnek no matter what form she takes even a pink-eyed skull."
"BAH! You may be head over heels for this 'Alyreha', but that’s not me!”
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"So ... Alyreha chose to go to the Positive Energy Plane?" Grams asks, trying to make sense of the end of the story. "Her true self wasn't a pink-eyed skull, was it? Do you know why no one else can seem to remember her?"
She speaks slowly, trying to enunciate clearly so the proto-golem can read her lips.
"She did not go the the plane herself. She just… tapped its potential." Vrisk chuckles. "No, her true self is not a skull. Clearly somethingn happeneed — what that is, I do not know. The deaf construct pauses. "Nor do I know why no one can remember her, somehow, for whatever reason, I escaped having memories of her erased."
"Yes, definitely could not have travelled to the Positive Energy Plane. The protective magic needed would be... very difficult. But either way, Zykyryz does not seem to believe that they are Alyreha. What proof can you provide?"
"None. Seek out another vital piece of magic to help Alyreha remember herself. Have you heard of Scorpia’s Grotto? I know she went there often."
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Grams nods, somehow knowing they would have to go there too in the end. Still, this seemed more than helpful.
"I wonder if it has to do with hearing," she muses, pondering why the proto-golem could remember but no one else can. "But finding someone else who can't hear but knew Alyreha might be difficult."
She turns her attention back to the skull.
"If you don't feel you're Alyreha, dear, would you prefer we continue to call you Zykyryz?"
"Yeah Zykyryz — and I'm doing you a favor… it's shorter than ‘ALL POWERFUL ARCLORD OF NEX,’ after all! However, I would also accept being addressed by that glorious title."
Vrisk agrees with gram's assessment. Peerhaps my lack of ears has made me immune to this effect."
Here. Vrisk hands you the rod he holds. "I use this tool to help me turn pages in my research, and at times, it seems to make my mind sharper."
"Alyreha had a particular sigil she used. I could cast it upon you if you like?"
He adds his sigil to your arms or shoulders. Or foreheads, as the case may be :p
You hail a flying carpet and fly it down to Scorpia's Grotto — soaring above the wondrous city in the clear blue sky. Looking down upon its two levels, the wongrous architecture and magical shimmering lights is a sight you may never forget.
Scorpia's Grotto is a brick building, in the Varisian style. Perhaps some homesick visitor from long ago put down roots here and built this tavern.
Inside, a female girtablilu is onstage, playing a lute in a rustic, strumming style using her own pincers as castanets. She sings a song about nature:
The crickets sing their nighttime song
As the fireflies dance and play along
The cool air caresses my skin
As I breathe in the beauty within…
The bartender and servers mostly consist of pechs and gnomes, obviously enjoying the music as they work. The bartender looks at you. "You wanna hear Gabranaya perform, you gotta buy a drink. That's out cover charge."
The menu has a variety of items, ranging from a copper piece for a mug of ale or tea, to a gold gp for a bottle of Nexian wine.
"Ooooooohhhh. Order a 'Chill Witch!' It'll be good! I just know it. Pleeeassse? Come on."
"Chill Witch. Chill Witch. Chill Witch. Chill Witch."
When Snarlfist orders a 'Chill Witch' the bartender's eyess glaze over, and he blinks three times.
He turns and gets the imported Irriseni liquor from the top shelf. He pours it over shards of ice harvested from the elemental plane of water, and tops it off with a tiny magical umbrella that closes on its own when Snarlfist's lips come close to the rim of the glass. A fitting drink for a hobgoblin!
He hands it over and then seems to come to himself. He gets out the wine bottle and slides that along the bar, with sme glasses.
"That'll be one gold for the wine." says the bartender.
"I hooked you up! I'd ask for a sip but I'm afraid it would go right through me!"
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Grams eyes narrow as she realizes the bartender wasn't acting of his own accord. Most of Zykyryz's actions have been relatively harmless jokes, and Alyreha had seemed to be a good person, but this ... this didn't feel harmless. Her eyes narrow as she looks at the skull, chortling away.
"This is hardly something to laugh about. How much of this do you remember doing?" she hisses.
When it comes time for her turn, she orders a mug of Pahmet pale ale.
"Hey I just had an instinct! Don't look a gift skull in the mouth!"
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Kralgang seethes in silence. His companions so readily accept a sigil reputed to allow souls to escape the judgement of Pharasma. An abomination, but solving this mystery may require some temporary risks and compromises, and he has no right to determine the actions of others, no matter how reprehensible their choices may be.
He orders a tea and sips it quietly.
Huh? That’s our main patron’s favorite drink. Only they order it. I don’t know why but I felt a kind if resonance, and that it was the right thing to do.