|
Briarthorn seems to revel in the destruction of the demons, but once the battle has subsided she snaps her attention to those who had been under attack and slowly loses her bristle.
"That should buy us some good favor at the very least. We should check for injured." She notes Visna's own wounds, but now may not be the time to stop and tend them quite yet.
You move down the passage that the morlocks were guarding. This rough-hewn hall still has features of a natural cavern. To the west, between two tunnel openings, a stylized statue of a winged jackal with three eyes looms over a seat carved from the same part of the wall. A human skeleton lies sprawled at the throne’s feet. Strewn about the room are dozens of dead or mortally wounded morlocks with pale flesh and bulging white eyes.
A handful of morlocks stand guard, visibly frightened, around the throne. There, seated atop the throne, is a fierce morlock woman dressed in pale leather armor and wielding a falchion. She seems surprised to see you instead of a horde of demons, but she points her falchion towards you and cries out in Undercommon.
An instant later, the true enemy appears in the room via dimension door: a six-armed demon with a gray hide, the lower body of a serpent, and the head of a horned wolf who carries a sword in each hand. He roars out in delight and crows in Abyssal, then raises his weapons menacingly!
The demons works with the creature that attacked our home. Pen thinks to the others, after deciphering the oily words of the demon. The queen thinks we are their pawns.
Seeing the need to defeat the demon quickly, Pen casts magic to make her allies faster.
|
|
Briar sneers at the sight of Lamashtu's symbol and wants to snap at the fools who worship her, but before she can turn her ire there it is drawn by a much more dangerous target. One that she is happy to unleash her rancor upon drawing the greatblade once more and charging in to engage with the foul daemon.
Visna holds aloft a hand to the morlock chieftain, and speaks to her in the tongue that Pentella has readied for her. "Hold warrior, for this rapacious wolf is our foe, not our leader. Stay your blade and you will soon see this truth writ in steel."
She levels her axe at the rearing marilith. "You. You may be a worthy challenge after all."
Tahi hears the storm that rages around her aching to expand, and she let's it go: ice forms on the ground as chilling winds whip around her...yet somehow the ice fades away wherever her allies walk.
Then she focuses a blast of water at the six-armed demon.
The demon turns away from Tahi's blast, taking some damage from it. He easily parries Briar's attacks with his many swords, but Visna exploits the fiend's weakness, snagging and grabbing him with her axes!
Howling with fury and battlelust, the many-armed demon focuses his wrath on Visna. He slashes at her with three of his blades, using the other three for defense.
Pen concentrates on the future, opening the windows of her sight to her friends. Images of the demon moving, splitting into this attack or this dodge weave into their sight.
You delve into the possible futures of the next few seconds to understand all the ways your foe might avoid harm, then cast out that vision to those around you. Designate a creature. The first time each target makes an attack roll against that creature during true target's duration, the attacker rolls twice and uses the better result. The attacker also ignores circumstance penalties to the attack roll and any flat check required due to the designated creature being concealed or hidden.[/ooc]
Visna's Last Coin gleams as she parries and checks the demon's blade with every ounce of speed, piling in past its reach to where her short-hafted axe can do its deadliest work.
Tahi calls on the raging elements to batter the demon-wolf.
The demon resists some of Pen's disintegrate spell and Tahi's blast of water, but, gravely shaken by Visna's threats, he is unable to defend against the attacks from the thaumaturge and from Briar. The fiend weakens with each strike, and with the final blow, he groans and crumples to the ground, unmoving!
The morlock priestess on the thrown hesitates, eyes wide as she tries to comprehend your swift annihilation of the demon! She calls out in Undercommon, her voice wary.
"Tools and signifiers of fate have been scattered hither and yon in the guise of cards from a harrow deck. This marilith and the fiendish prince he serves seek them to do untold harm; we seek to prevent that, but their divinations grow keener, and our surest plan to do so has been to focus their ire upon our own heads.
"Know you where the card lies that has brought this demonic onslaught hence?"
The morlock frowns. She reaches into a pouch and pulls forth a Harrow card: The Lost. "I discovered this card among my personal effects. It is a gift from the great Mother, sent to help me protect my flock," she says, gesturing to the statue of Lamashtu. "I would be reluctant to part with such a divine blessing."
Visna glowers. "The mother of monsters is more likely to have guided this here so that demons might eat you. Already you have seen that this token would be your doom, not your salvation. I pray you, give over this charm, instead of clinging to perdition as a shield."
The priestess scowls. She looks from the card to the statue of Lamashtu. "Bah. Fine. Take the Lost and begone with you. Leave me and my people be. We shall retreat once more to the bowels of the world."
She bids one of the other morlocks to carry the Harrow card to Visna. He cringes and quickly scurries away again.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Nicely done, little one," Tahi says to the (much, much) larger Visna.
Pen gives Briar a look of pure sympathy, followed by doing an Un_pen thing, squeezing Briar's shoulder through her fur for comfort. The wizard adds a soft smile, but leaves words in a trunk somewhere in her head.
You return to the enclave to rest and refresh yourselves. When you are ready, you head out in search of the final card here in the ruins of Kho. The witchwyrd Usilket tells you that they believe the final card is hidden among the Fields of Glass.
Remnants of countless crystalline structures comprise the Fields of Glass, which stretch from the river to the valley’s western wall. The area is ruled by a dragon named Vehanezhad and the xorns that serve her. Even if the card isn't part of the dragon's hoard, Vehnaezhad likely knows more about the valuable treasure's location than anyone else nearby, so Usilket suggest seeking her out.
You head to an area of the Fields of Glass known as the Sunset Towers. Here, a number of great crystalline towers that once stood when Kho soared through the skies crashed and fused together in odd positions. These ruins sparkle when illuminated by the sun or moon. With a bit of searching, you find a concealed entrance to the towers' interior.
As you enter the towers, you spot a pair of crystalline creatures silently gliding through the walls behind you, keeping their bulging eyes on you. They are xorns, squat, rotund earth elementals with three legs, three arms, three eyes, and one massive maw.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Visna opens her mouth as if to protest, but all she manages is to say, "Thank you, ma'am."
Pen casts Tongues on her comrades, along with the familiar telepathic bond so they all can share conversation. Her eyes scan all around the visible interior of the tower, the light filtering through in near chaotic twinkles. Near chaos is not chaos so Pen follows the patterns.
Their greeters keeps her from pulling out her notebook, scribbling and sketching.
Ahead, an enormous gap opens in the structure, forming a roughly conical, multifaceted room with a sixty-foot-high ceiling. Crystals in this area sing, ring, and hum.
An enormous crystalline xorn rises up out of the floor in front of you, blocking further progress through the structure. "Halt," he calls in Common a gravelly voice. "I am Arzuu. Why have you come here, to the home of my people?"
"We come to speak with Vehanezhad, who we have been told rules over this land. Our wish is that our passage remain peaceful."
"Great Vehanezhad dwells further within these caves. If you are here to seek peace, then I will escort you into her presence." The xorn gestures for you to follow as he glides down the tunnel.
Massive crystals form a domed, stepped chamber with slanting, translucent supports. The ceiling arches to a height of fifty feet, and the entire area thrums with a low reverberation and singing stones. Here, a massive dragon waits for you, towering nearly to the chamber's ceiling! Her scales are a bluish tinge, but they seem to be made of pure crystal.
Arzuu bows low. "Mighty Vehanezhad, these humanoids have come to parley."
The dragon eyes you imperiously. "Indeed? And what, pray tell, do you with to speak to me about?"
|
|
Taking in the massive dragon before them Briar hesitates to speak before Visna.
"We come looking for allies. As well as a magical harrow card. One that has already brought enemies to the peoples that inhabit these lands. We do not seek to take them by force, meerly gather them and draw the oncoming storm to our own gates as we are more prepared to weather it."
She steps ahead of the group only slightly and bows her head. "We believe one such trinket has come under your posession great Vehanezhad."
"Yes. A magical Harrow card appeared among my treasures recently. The Sickness." Vehanezhad snorts derisively. "It seems like a cruel, cosmic joke. As you can see, I have become afflicted by a strange crystalline corruption by the warped magic of Kho. This new crystalline body may be beautiful, but it’s fragile and restrictive when compared to flesh and blood. If you can undo what the corruption has done to me, then I will gladly give the card to you."
A blue halo burst around Pen's head as she touched the Vision always at the edge of her feeling. The wizard studies the dragon "A stone to flesh spell could alleviate the symptoms, but not the curse." Pen does not consider lying. "We could attempt to counteract it but it will be difficult"
"But it is through deeds of difficulty that heroism is shown," Visna finishes. "I fear it may take some time to prepare the curative charms that your condition requires, but by as early as the morrow we may have for you this boon."
Vehanezhad lets out a hiss. "Very well. Come back when you have the cure," the dragon grumbles.
"If not then you can chop this papaya while I fry us up some eggs. No sense doing a ritual on an empty stomach."
Visna's thoughtful expression clears, her smile like the sun escaping a cloud bank. "Tis not my ritual that will dispense with the dragon's woes, friend Briar. We wait upon the wit and wonder of my Pen."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Oh, no...
Pen blinks as the sun smile beams toward her, followed by the possessive pronoun that shuts down her mind every time she hears it, even though a profession of nothing other than companionship...
where was she...
Oh, yes, admitting she can do nothing "I... don't know anything about curses." her cheeks flush, rising up to her pointed ears. "I mean I know a significant about curses, from various types, reasons to use, so on. I wrote notes on how that affect the fabric of..." the embarrassment of not being the person to solve this, makes her more flustered than normal, making her start ruffling around in her pack for some of her consolidated notes.
But stops. "I've never studied the methods to remove them, other the more general concepts." Pen slips her pack back on and sighs "I am no help here."
"Oh." Bemusement stills Visna's tongue.
She takes a moment to gather her thoughts, but soon regains her confident smile. "Then it will be but a journey made brief by our ties to the warp and weft of fate. We will find our miracle-maker in the gaze of the hurricane's eye."
***
It is simple to return to the realm that their Harrow cards unlock, and then from there it is a short jaunt to Port Peril. The sun here has just set, but it is still warm; the humidity is like an inescapably warm coverlet, and Visna is almost immediately covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she leads her friends through the teaming streets.
She can't help but laugh, "A port like this could never be a home to a daughter of icy floes." But her eyes still sparkle with remembered delights. Glass-captured flames and charms push back against the darkness, bobbing and swaying on their hooks as a sharp gust of wind comes ripping in off the tides with more than a fair helping of salt and sting. "Besmara's breath they name it," she explains as she breathes it in like tasting a fine wine, "A fine weather for reaving, or rigging, or riding the... waves." An infinitesimal glance at Pentella.
"Fear not, Callindra's reaving days had ended ere I first swam these waters, and we are far more likely to find her with her love than a lover now that the sun is down."
Visna's memories lead them all down a winding path that eventually holds fewer gambling halls, brothels, and taverns until she arrives at a bustling dry dock guarded by two serious looking toughs, a tengu and a dark skinned aiuvarin with a profound nose. They start at the heroes' arrival, torn between sudden sharp attention to the dangerous looking strangers, and surprise at the dangerous woman they already know.
"Visna Oarsnapper? Is that really you?" the tengu squawks. "Aye." "Well then best get up on deck."
"Will she permit my friends to see her work before it is-" "Visna, just get up there - we don't want to be in between you two."
"Good thing she's in her armor..." the Aiuvarin rumbles wryly as they pass.
Visna hauls herself up the ladder to the deck of the partially skeletal hull with a grace born of familiarity and strength, but as soon as she sets foot on the deck itself there's a flash of steel, a gentle tink at her gorget, and she finds herself looking down a long straight blade to the hard gaze of the dry dock's mistress, the master shipwright, Besmara's beloved, the Commodore Callindra Raines (ret).
"You used to remember to ask permission before boarding one of my ships."
Visna inches forward, Callindra's blade flexing minutely against her armored throat, "That was when I served at your command, ma'am."
"I liked that better; as I recall you called me mistress then too."
"Aye, well and true. I was more... awed by you in those days."
"Careful Vizzy," the blade slides up off the gorget. "I always said you'd look better with a scar. With one I gave you, you'd be... ravishing."
They both begin to smile at the same moment, and all at once Callindra is in Visna's arms, forcing the towering woman to catch her with the sheer recklessness of her advance. She kisses Visna hungrily; Visna is kept busy merely by holding her, but Callindra's own hands roam freely, though after she's rebuffed by Visna's full plate, she contents herself with thumbing the ulfen woman's ear.
Visna coughs, and tries to lower Callindra back to the ground, eventually succeeding despite a few wriggles and shifts of weight.
"Well, let's have a look at your new crew then." Callindra stands squarely on her deck once more. Her burnt umber skin, raven black hair (though hers has shocks of silver threaded through it), gently pointed ears and aquiline nose suggest a kinship to the young man who was on guard. She wears an Andoran naval uniform jacket, though it has been sharply abridged to better suit the heat, or possibly to make her various tattoos, scars, and stretchmarks easier to see. Her gaze is sharp and appraising, and scarcely softer than when she put a blade to Visna's throat.
"Vizzy, Vizzy, Vizzy. Where you learned to pick crews based on the prettiest faces I'll never know, but- Ohhh. Is this Tahi Taufa?"
Visna immediately colors. "It is not as simple a tale as you seem to-"
"Vizzy, don't bother. It's me. A pleasure to meet you though, Tahi." She takes Tahi's hand and gives it a soft kiss. "I've heard an unbelievable amount about you."
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Briar hums, "So we shall find someone who may do away with the curse ourselves then. That is a solution still. I have contacts in Nantambu that could be of assistance, should all else fail."
---------
Briar soaks in the sweltering air and finally feels at home though by her measure the place is a bit barren of green, but such things are bound to happen so close to the sea.
"A port like this could house dozens of clans, but I very much think it'd upset the balance of the great jungle not having us around." Casting a gaze out over the waters as Visna reminiscences about tomes no doubt gone by, she shakes her whole body. "Never much liked the boat though, the waves and salt don't play well with my hide."
She quirks an eye at Visna's comment about a Callindra and her supposed love but not lover sensing that it was somehow about to change.
The various scents good and bad distract her most of the trip and soon they arrive at the dry dock. Briar makes sure to look imposing, but not threatening, which mostly consists of using her towering physique to just look like herself, minus the snapping fangs or bulging biceps. She eyes the tengu in particular knowing those who look less the part can often hold surprises. But she drops the act when Visna's invited or at least told to go aboard.
It seemed that a fight was about to start but quickly devolved into something a bit more tender, though unwanted from at least one party. Musing with low hums in her throat to herself Briar begins taking guesses at the relationship the two had in a past life to herself.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Pen had settled her thoughts, which she admits to herself, does seem harder for the old soul than in previous years. Forcing her mind back into its normal observation of details, as many as possible, meticulously recording them in her shorthand.
In this, she got distracted on the docks, looking at the second floor of an old building, now a brothel it looks like. Back then, way back then it was school, kids laughing, her attempting order, a warm place.
Then pirates did as pirates did...
She shook her head away from memories, but not before noting a detail that made her feel a variety of emotions. The brothel still had the simple carved sign she had made with her own hands. Practical in its simplicity.
'House of Learning', just a different kind of learning.
Pen forced her attention back to the meeting, only to see the sudden attack on her companion. Gripping her staff in both hands she almost started chanting fire and lightning... to protect, not to stop the... yes kissing.
Oh.
The buildup of elemental destruction fizzed out of existence, popped out of being, as other muddled memories burst into her mind. Memories she was not sure of since they had involved way too much wine.
No. Not here, not now. Pen did not reject memories, they are as precious to her as the sun to wildflowers, but sometimes she needed to tell them 'Later, please'.
"Excuse me" she addresses the waiting Tengu and Aiuvarin with the profound nose, with barely a hitch in her own voice, which she is proud of "Would you kindly tell Ms. Oarsnapper... " Vizzy? "... and your mistress, when they are less engaged, that I will return within the hour. I used to live here a long time ago, you see, and wish to see how things have changed. While we have time." it looked like that kissing might go on a while.
Getting away was not the reason. An a slightly annoyed flick of her mind reminded her falsehoods, even to herself, was NOT allowed. Not the only reason, she mentally amended.
***
"Vizzy, have you forgotten the manners I taught you? You haven't introduced me to the rest of your crew."
"Ah, yes. This is Briar, Wagadu's Savior, Dragonseizer, and Omenreader," she begins, too wrongfooted to notice she's reusing an epithet, "And this is... was Pentella Cole. To name her deeds would take more hours than remain in this day; I have not yet told you of her..." "But please don't seduce her?"
Visna blinks. "I should not have thought to ask or expect that of you."[/]b
[b]"Understood, understood. So you'll have to say pretty please."
"...Could we perhaps turn to the purpose that has impelled me hence?"
"Sure," Callindra cranes her neck after Pentella's retreating form. "You'll have to talk fast though. She moves pretty quick for an older gal, so I can't afford to give her too much of a headstart."
"... Please- Pretty please do not do that."
"Ah, then we have all the time in the world."
"I know that Besmara has blessed you with power over wood and wave, power to blind the senses of her Children, and also to save the worthy from their wrath." "Worthiness is really something you're adding to the stew here, Vizzy, but yes."
"We have come upon a curse in need of breaking, and it is beyond the limit of my arts. Can you prepare a charm to suit our need?"
"Ha!" Callindra throws her head back in honest surprise, but before she can retort Visna cuts back in, "We can pay." She counts out her coin. "For two."
***
"Hail Vehanezhad, we hold what I hope shall be your cure this day. Fear not if it does not succeed at once. There are other resources upon which we can call." But I pray I shall not need to inveigle myself back into Amarielle's good graces.
The spell works as intended, and Vehanezhad sighs with relief as the crystalline infection fades away, restoring her to her former scaly glory. "Ah! I finally feel like myself once again! Thank you, little ones. I will gather my treasures and leave this accursed city. Here is the Harrow card, as promised."
With a flick of her tail, the dragon levitates the card over to you: The Sickness.
***
Once you return to Usilket's enclave, the witchwyrd confirms that you have now recovered all five Harrow cards that were located within the ruins of Kho! Before you depart, though, Usilket is eager to work with you to consolidate the various alliances you have established and to sort out how you might use these alliances to fight against the Prince of Wolves. Usilket rewards you for your efforts.
Before you get too far into your planning, though, a thought manifests in your minds, a message from All-Seeing Hajeck. She has new for you and is eager to share it with you when you return to Harrowheart!
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Checking and asking a few Ne'er-do-wells leads the party to a close brothel when they are done with the scroll (and the kissing). It is a cozy little place of old polished wood covered in silky fabrics called the House of Learning.
Pen is found seated on a decadent velvet in the midst of a gaggle of hovering women, asking about this or that, laughing warmly at the flustered and outnumbered wizard.
"The Pentella Cole!" one pretty little halfling cooed leaning over the chair arm to run a finger along Pen's robe at her thigh. "Never pictured you an elf." a human brunette nipped at the tip on a blazing pointed ear.
"My old textbooks have been passed down through each owner of the place, it seems." she explains to the others when they arrive, looking embarrassed and looking down at the worn leather book, tight in her hands, titled 'Linguistical You'.
"It ain't for the boring prattle inside mind you" the gingered halfling tells, reaching out to get ready to snatch the book out of Pen's death grip, while the brunette and two of her friends quickly tickle the poor wizard in various places to surprise and distract.
The book is freed, the halfling quickly bounces over to fan the leather tome to interested eyes. Quickly past the neatly written 'Property of the Scholar Pentella Cole' to page after page of notes written into the margins, along with many little illustrations.
All bawdy as heck and back, and DETAILED. The notes are little descriptions, musings, and delights, each either love sick or whimsically dirty.
Pen manages to disengage, somehow (magic might have been involved), though not unscathed as bits a red lipstick dot her neck and ears. "I... I was much younger and Professor Tandalwist was... um... both uninteresting and Very interesting, all at once. So my mind wandered in class. A lot." Pen rambled, her hands clenching and unclenching, reaching like she wanted to snatch the book away or burn it to ash and was having a hard time deciding which to do.
At her admission, knowing giggles erupt, and somehow make the wizard flush even brighter. She offers to buy the book back for quite a lot, but is refused. "Its a treasure, and you're a legend Ms. Cole, please stay a night or two with us, on the house!" they all attempt to woo the wizard, but Pen is ready to flee so much she almost teleported, so declined and wished them well.
Pen is happy to get back to their quest. Watches the curse breaking with interest, taking pages upon pages of notes, and asking both Vehanezhad and Visna copious amounts of questions. At Usilket's enclave she hovers over so many items in the collection, helping others with identification or explanations of use.
For herself, she let out a little gasp at a folded set of light blue robes. Grasping them with reverance, she holds them to her chest and says "I will take these, please. Thank you."
|
|
As the waning day passed in the warm southlands comes to an end, Briar can't help but feel her heart pulling towards the North where she knows her hone would lay. Being so close yet so far, she could leave right now and return to her own now that her debt was considered paid. But what of her life, could she leave it all behind.
No, not yet at least, she was still needed out here to defend the other brave souls she'd come to call friend in the months of knowing them personally. And so she'd stay with them until the end.
Looking over the loot pile offered to her she recalled tales of mighty gnoll warbands being placated with riches in a way similar to this, not that her blood ran any cooler for hearty riches. But after digging through she claimed a more intricate rune for herself.
Visna quickly excuses herself from witnessing Pen's avalanche of admirers, remaining uncharacteristically taciturn for the journey back to the dragon. Pentella's curiosity over the cursebreaking is far more welcome. "Callindra's charms have many origins, though the force that winds through them is the Pirate Queen's. Besmara's chosen, of course, are heirs to much knowledge born of practice and passed-down wisdom. She has also made something of a... study of the tengu and their tumultuous dalliances with ill-luck. Every sailor borne long by the sea knows well how skill is no match for fortune and her masters."
Part 2, Chapter 3: Harrowed Realm
Once you return to Harrowheart, you find All-Seeing Hajeck waiting for you in the central portal room. The lamia's tail lashes back and forth as she explains what she's learned.
"First, allow me to tell you a tale from my past," she begins. "Years ago, I owned a magical harrow deck called the Deck of Harrowed Tales. Within this deck existed a demiplane known as the Harrowed Realm—a place created by my ancient ancestor Sonnorae. Sonnorae hoped to achieve immortality by living forever within the Harrowed Realm, but over time, the stories she collected and populated into the realm rebelled against her. The greatest of these 'storykin' was the blue dragon Zassrion, and when he and his other conspirators defeated Sonnorae, he became the leader of the Harrowed Realm, only to discover to his frustration that he could never leave.
"What the dragon could do, though, was to manipulate and dominate any who carried the Deck of Harrowed Tales. He did just this to me, soon after I inherited the magical deck. Under his control, I unwillingly lured and trapped many in the Harrowed Realm, where they met grisly fates as Zassrion grafted the reality of their bodies onto his own to fuel his plot to escape into the Material Plane.
"The dragon’s plot was foiled by adventurers several years ago, releasing me, ashamed and bashed, from his control. Eager to restart my life and put this unfortunate episode in the past, I pursued a new life in Absalom, only to meet my own tragic fate recently.
"I wanted nothing more to do with the Deck of Harrowed Tales after my humiliating servitude to one of its inhabitants. The destruction of the deck was far beyond my skill or that of the adventuring party that rescued me, but I welcomed that group’s offer to take the artifact off my hands. Unfortunately, it would seem that somehow the Deck of Harrowed Tales found its way into the clutches of a truly dangerous enemy—the Prince of Wolves!"
She pauses for a dramatically appropriate amount of time before continuing. "Indeed, it seems the Prince of Wolves has been using the Deck to transform the Harrowed Realm into a bridge between his realm and the Harrow Court. That is how he moved his forces here to attack us. The good news, though, is that you can use the Harrowed Realm the same way—as a point of invasion to strike at the Prince of Wolves’ lair, wherever it may be. Within the Harrowed Realm is a magic telescope called the Outreaching Eye, which allows those within the demiplane the ability to peer out into the world where the Deck of Harrowed Tales lies. If you can enter the Harrowed Realm, you can seek out the Outreaching Eye and use it to reach the Prince of Wolves’ lair."
Visna's eyebrows raise in surprise. "That is quite a tale, All-Seeing Hajeck. Do you propose a path that might lead us unto the Harrowed Realm to there find the Outreaching Eye?"
"Indeed," Hajeck says. "The method of travel between Harrow Court and the Harrowed Realm is in fact quite simple. You can simply use the cards from the Deck of Destiny as if you were opening up the gateway to the Harrowed Realm, but you must be standing at the site in the village surrounding Harrowheart where the Shadow Prince's remains left that permanent stain on the ground. Doing so will allow you to follow that stain through the boundaries between worlds and enter the Harrowed Realm.
"But beware, for I have sensed great malevolence growing in the Harrowed Realm."
The six arches in Harrowheart's great hall are currently filled with shadows, but you can sense through them that four more cards lie within the Harrowed Realm: The Forge, The Hidden Truth, The Midwife, and The Tyrant.
The Desert: When you epitomize The Desert, assign it to a point of interest in the desert. A strange magic in this region allows a willing character to turn themselves over to the desert to have their body be consumed and then reborn into something new. This eight hour period of meditation and introspection is dangerous—the PC must attempt a DC 35 Fortitude saving throw.
Critical Success: Your body transforms into a new adult body of an ancestry of your choice, subject to GM approval. Replace your ancestry Hit Points, size, Speeds, ability boosts, ability flaws, traits, and special abilities with those of the new ancestry. You lose your heritage and ancestry feats, and must select replacements from the new ancestry. Your background, class features, and known languages remain unaltered. You can never again benefit from The Desert in this way.
Success: As critical success, except the process leaves you feeling awkward in your new body, leaving you clumsy 2, drained 2, and enfeebled 2 for 1 week; these conditions can’t be removed or reduced by any means until the week has passed.
Failure: You fail to be remade and instead are fatigued.
Critical Failure: Not only do you fail to be remade, you become fatigued and drained 3. You cannot attempt to be remade in the desert again for 1 month.
The Marriage: When you epitomize The Marriage, a chapel appears in the village surrounding Harrowheart, run by a pleasant priest who pays homage to all of the faiths the PCs follow. The priest knows the atone and heartbond rituals (Advanced Player’s Guide 242), and can teach them to the PCs. Skill checks attempted at the chapel to perform either of these rituals gain a +2 item bonus.
The Tangled Briar: When you epitomize The Tangled Briar, small patches of tangled undergrowth spring up throughout the Harrow Court—blackberries and thistles in the farmlands, stinging nettles in the forests and swamps, spiky leafless shrubs in the desert and mountains, and strange spiny seaweed in the lake. These tangles serve as spiritual conduits for ancient spirits associated with the harrow to influence the Harrow Court. These spirits help to guide souls through the realm, and as a result, all skill checks made to resolve the casting of astral projection (Advanced Player’s Guide 240), call spirit, reincarnate (Advanced Player’s Guide 242), and resurrection gain a +2 item bonus. The presence of the spirits helps to lessen the cost involved when casting reincarnate and resurrection as well, halving the final gp cost of performing the ritual as long as it takes place in the Harrow Court.
The Bear: A forested courtyard appears in Harrowheart, and an unusually intelligent and curious bear moves in. The bear enjoys philosophical conversations about the balance between the natural world and the urban world (the bear is annoyed at the use of the phrase “civilized world” and often points out that people in cities are more self-destructive than any group of wild animals). They also know several magical rituals and can teach the following rituals to the PCs if they wish: awaken animal, commune with nature, and primal call. While the bear can’t serve as a primary or secondary caster for these rituals, its presence grants a +2 item bonus to any skill checks made to cast these rituals here.
The Beating: A small group of soldiers set up training grounds in the village surrounding Harrowheart. A PC who spends Downtime training here can Retrain feats, skills, and class features, provided the new feat, skill, or class feature is combat-themed. Feats and skill increases retrained here take only 5 days. Class features retrained here take only 3 weeks.
The Lost: Some areas in Harrowheart’s village become strangely quiet and deserted looking. A character can spend eight hours in Downtime here to focus on this loss and emptiness, taking those realities into themselves
to emerge changed, with entirely new memories—be they old memories recovered for the first time or newly created memories. At the end of these eight hours, the PC can instantly Retrain a single feat, skill, or class feature, as if they had spent the normal amount of time required for that downtime activity. All the other normal restrictions for retraining apply. A PC can only use The Lost to retrain in this way once per level.
The Sickness: When you epitomize The Sickness, a sprawling cemetery manifests near Harrowheart. A sickly, unpleasant caretaker tends to this cemetery. This caretaker knows the blight, call spirit, and create undead rituals, and can teach them to the PCs. Skill checks attempted at the cemetery to perform any of these rituals gain a +2 item bonus.
|
|
Just as everyone was discussing what was going on, why it was happening and what the plan was, the main portal suddenly activates. It wasn't clear at first what caused it to activate but there was a sound of battle on the other side. An arrow flies over the group's heads and finally, something flies through and lands on the ground, covering their head as the portal closes behind them.
The stranger who had just dived into the portal and landed before the group was a man; no taller than six feet tall and with some devilish features across him. Literally. He had long black hair, gold tanned skin, a tail and horns on his head. He was adorned in Black leather armour and had a scarlet cloak around their shoulders.
His eyes were shut but he slowly began to open them, revealing the glowing red eyes as he looked at; not only the group before him, but also where he was. He blinked a few times and looked around.
"Uh..." he squeaked nervously. "...I don't owe any of you fine folks money do I?" he asked, nervously. In his hand was a beautiful pistol that looked dwarven in it's design. It also appeared it was recently fired; the barrel of the gun was still smoking.
|
|
Caught by surprise by the sudden entrance and at this point expecting trouble Briar towers over the prone man and reaches down to grab him by both shoulders. Picking him up to his feet, the hulking gnoll woman's iron-like grip suggests he wouldn't be slipping away easily unless she allowed.
"Depends on what you know about any princes who deal with wolves. If nothing then probably not."
The dragon-hide adorned barbarian wears a jawbone dagger which hangs on a necklace, and sports a large broadsword as well as a lengthy spear made of mithril and even carries a bag containing a single javelin. A raggedy gray-brown cloak rests almost hilariously small over her shoulders and the striking marks around her eyes make them stand out among the rest of her spotted face. She leans in and sniffs the man getting unsettlingly close with her crunching jaws.
"Smells like... pomegranate wine, sand-" She cocks her head barely to sight the smoking gun. "-and blast powder."