Nearly 1,100 years ago, the world barely survived a massive Cataclysm caused by a war between powerful mortals and the elemental Titans. Through great tribulation, civilizations have rebuilt themselves, but many fear someone may uncover forces beyond comprehension and bring about mass destruction once again. However, efforts to stave off future catastrophe may in fact be what endangers us all...
No matter where you were, you received the following message via bird feather token:
“High Senator Orteza of Isenor invites you to a private meeting of influential individuals to discuss the future of the Mevvergard.” It provided an address in the hills west of San Elspet in Isenor.
The message that continued was personalized to note some of your own accomplishments, flatter you if flattery was effective, failed to flatter you if you don’t tend to like flattery, and promised that even if the discussion disinterested you, this would be a once in a lifetime chance to meet people of your level of achievement and learn from one another. Maybe you came out of genuine concern about the continent’s safety. Maybe you didn’t want to offend the High Senator. Maybe you wanted to meet new people, or a particular person. Maybe you were just bored. Maybe you wanted to know how the Senator had heard of you—or maybe you even suspected his motives.
None of you had ever met Orteza, but you had heard of him. He—by all accounts, human—is a longtime member—by at least 50 years—of both the Isenorian Senate and the Free Coastal Congress that oversees military operations and trade for the Free Coast. Most folk speak of his general support of benevolent policies for merchants and laborers and for exploration, though few have met him—and some find his secrecy troubling.
When you arrived, you came to a villa consisting of a large manor home and several outbuildings, including a cluster of cottages tucked in the hills roughly in a circle. Further beyond the residential complex is a small cattle farm. The structures are extremely well made and obviously, to own such land and that many buildings, the Senator has done quite well for himself, and yet everything is more cozy and comfortable than ostentatious.
A butler gave each of you a key and assigned you to one of the cottages--particularly, the five of you were assigned a cottage together, with a note, “I hope you five itinerant souls might feel at home here, however temporarily.” The butler asked that you stay within the cottage complex—or go hunting in the nearby wood—until Senator Orteza summoned you, but to please ring the staff bell should you need anything. Daily, human and halfling servants bring you three meals a day featuring local fruits, fish, and fowl, as well as grain porridges and custards and piles of fresh baked bread. Local wines and beers, as well as imported wine all the way from Lidda in the south, are available for those wishing to imbibe, as well as nonalcholic teas, fruit juices, and flower-infused water. The cottage itself is homey, with a terra cotta tile roof and is equipped with bookshelves containing local histories, philosophy, various treatises on ethics of magic use (of a variety of viewpoints). There is also a broad collection of maps, including of speculated locations of the Titans’ Gates, places which are said to lead to the moons where the Elemental Titans’ bodies sleep. Each of you in your rooms have been provided in addition to the usual bed and such, a very nice writing desk equipped with paper, ink, and pens for both practical and artistic work. You all have your own room, which opens into a large common area with a grand fireplace in the center.
You have all arrived (not necessarily all at the same time) and have been at the cottage for at least 24 hours, and you have not yet been invited to meet the Senator. The villa has other guests, folks of prominent power, some with high levels of authority and some more travelers who try to keep a low profile—but who nonetheless are accomplished in what they do. You know the closest cottage to yours houses two priests and some kind of bodyguard for the more elderly one--all from the Island of Tegany to the northeast, you have heard, and oddly one of the only cottages where everyone seems to come from the same place.
Do you sit in the cottage and chat? Boast of exploits are speak admiringly of another's? Get to know the other guests in the other cottages? Investigate the manor? Go hunting? Or anything else?
Krowys and Liber are not ones for idle conversation. Krowys is sitting on whatever furnishings are provided for him, if any at all, penning a book he was working on prior to coming here. If anyone would care to look, it's a draft of a treatise on "Linguistics as Circumvention of Spellcasting Aptitude in Scroll Activation," something he had discovered a while ago how to pull off. He's sipping a non-alcoholic juice drink, a little too distracted to actually work on his treatise, instead idly tapping a quill on a scroll of True Strike he had withdrawn from his Bag of Holding.
Liber, on the otherhand, is hovering above a few books on geography, along with a few atlases, absorbing the information just in case it's necessary. The Pact Witch they are associated with isn't one for Geographical knowledge, so the Arbiter took it upon themself to gather information should the two of them ever get lost somewhere. Similarly, Liber is also pouring over books on the planes as well, though Krowys is adequately prepared when it comes to Planar lore, so Liber is slightly less concerned for Krowys in that regard.
Looking at them is an odd sight, among the humans, half-elves, halflings, and a few other planarkin like Krowys, the pair sticks out like a sore thumb. As opposed to the subtle influence Axis typically has on most aphorites, the pact which gave Krowys such power essentially makes him able to be confused for an Axiomite at times. Golden and blue crystalline dust spewing symbols and runes out of certain places in his body. The Arbiter thrown into the mix certainly doesn't help, either.
For all he tries to force down his emotion with reason and logic, Krowys's face bears a bit of worry on it. If he alone were summoned, the purpose would presumably have been to en-masse translate a cache of ancient documents some archaeologists have found. But no, this time was different, a summoning of the most powerful people. This meant that something horrible could be afoot. He never normally considered himself as "a powerful person," as his power was largely a side-effect! He did not intend to become an immensely powerful Witch, it just sort of happened over time. This, most likely, is what is causing his writer's-block at the moment.
The bird was cute… the message it carried was not. The pomposity of the note was irritating. HIGH Senator. Wasn’t ‘Senator’ lofty enough? Should ‘High Senator’ impress me more than the magic used to contact me? Ariston reads the rest of the note then crumples it and drops it in his pocket so he can finish attending to his patient. But even as he ministers to the rover’s ailment, he silently fumes.
Meet people of ‘my level of achievement’? The phrase evinces a smile on Ariston’s jovial face… as he stares at the unwashed ass of the drover in front of him, magically treating the persistent seeping boils. Oh my, yes, I dance on the pinnacles of power.
Feeling it a bit in his knee joints, the aging priest rises and taps the drover on his shoulder. ”Pull up your breeches. You’re healed. Might I suggest that you have a… uh… less close relationship with your flock? This ailment could reappear.” He shoos the man out of the makeshift medical tent before he can hear the protestations and denials. Sheep don’t lie and he’d questioned them.
In between his other patients and those seeking spiritual counseling, he re-read the crumpled letter again. Maybe there was a real need hidden behind the bluster. Or maybe there was something nefarious that needed to be rooted out. Orteza’s reputation was good and Ariston was fond of the Free Coast… And if the meeting turned out to be a waste of time, he could always vanish. In the end, his choice came down to a simple philosophical choice – do you say ‘why?’ or do you say ‘why not?’ As he had for most of his life, Ariston said ‘why not?’
The butler, grand estate, servants, admonitions, the ‘wait until summoned’, and some of the lofty guests he recognized… all suggested Ariston had made a poor decision. But the food, drinks, comfy bed, and mysterious goings-on were making a strong counter-argument. He was most curious about the happenings around Tegany Cottage, as he called it in his head. And the priests would be easy for him to talk to… which was the problem. Religious ‘shop talk’ was too comfortable and wouldn’t deepen his understanding of why he was here. Priests were surprisingly good at being evasive when they had reason. So, Ariston put a pin in the idea of visiting Tegany Cottage, for the moment. Instead, he considered the other guest in the common room of this cottage – the other ‘itinerant soul’. The man seemed vaguely uncomfortable or perhaps was just ‘in his head’ regarding the manuscript he was working on in fits and starts. It took Ariston a minute to realise he knew of The Translator.
Not wishing to disturb the fellow but enjoying the opportunity to observe him, the paunchy cleric takes a chair at the table across from Krowys and sits down. His face is jovial and unguarded, offering the writer an open smile and a nod when he looks up from his work. He seems comfortable with silence, enjoying a beam of sunlight, open to intrusion but unwilling to intrude.
The small bird arrives in the dank cave Mira is standing in with a small group of mercenaries. Behind her the cooling bodies of several fire giants and their hellhound minions and being looted.
Well boys, its been fun but it seems I have another job to do. This one looks a bit too polite for the likes of you I'm afraid. No doubt we will work together again in the future. She glances over to a scarred man supervising the looting. Hendricks, make sure my cut is deposited in the usual place and be careful of the Baron, he is sure to try and stiff you. I dont want to have to break you out of jail....again.
With that she casts a spell and with a swirl of magic she is gone. Moments later she appears in a small underground chamber in San Elsport, one of a number of little hideaways and safe houses she keeps across the continent.
She takes out the letter again and scans it. High Senator Orteza, where have I heard that name before.... She mutters a couple of spells and sits down to ponder.
take the best +12+2+6+2 for 27
Well, he seems like he should be a reliable sort but best to be careful.
Unpacking one of her bags she carefully applies a light dye to her hair, adds lines to her face and changes her clothes, taking on the appearance of a matronly, middle aged woman with greying brow hair and kindly eyes, a disguise she regularly uses in this region. She layers her mundane disguise with a powerful Veil spell. That should help present the right impression for the Senator and my "equals"
Packing away her tools she shoulders her pack she mutters a greater teleport spell, appearing a little way down the track from the Senators Villa. With a whisper she conjures a faintly glowing magical steed and rides towards the House. She is a little miffed not to be immediately greeted by the Senator and instead being dealt with by a butler but she conceals her irritation, it being out of place in her current persona.
She promptly ensconces herself in the cottage, waiting for the rest to arrive. She immediately realises her error, by teleporting here she now has to wait for others less able to travel quickly to arrive. She entertains herself by reorganising the cottage to her own liking and making sure everything is s#+%# and span. As others arrive she welcomes them warmly and offers to show people around the grounds, she has been out exploring (while generally shape changed and invisible, no sense in taking risks) to get a sense of the place and the people who live here.
She is particularly interested in the treatise Krowys is writing and is happy to offer suggestions. Likewise, when Ariston arrives she happily chats about what he has been up to lately. Both may be a little surprised that she does not look like the Mira they may have worked together with in the past but if asked she simply rolls her eyes and groans Politics!
Finally, Mira offers everyone staying in the Cottage the chance to use her own accommodations. She reveals a glowing blue doorway which opens into a wood panelled library. Thick, overstuffed armchairs are dotted about and a roaring fire warms the place. Invisible servitors carry platters of food and drink. A spiral staircase leads to an upper floor with several very comfortable bedrooms, each with a connected bathroom containing a tub of steaming, foamy water.
During the long evenings while she waits for the rest of the group to arrive Mira cannot resist doing a little snooping. Depending on how much time she has she will do some or all of the following (employing Paragon Surge each day to get one or more of these spells).
Greater Prying Eyes to do some snooping around the Senators home.
Retrocognition to learn of any significant events that might have occurred in their cottage.
Discern Location to discover where the Senator actually is.
Greater Arcane Sight to check out the cottage and surrounding grounds for magical effects.
Liber notices someone reading over Krowys's shoulder and taps a clawed hand on his arm to get his attention, without necessarily drawing attention via (true)speech. Upon realizing his familiar is attempting to communicate (without actually speaking, even though Liber can, and certainly does at times).
"Oh? If you're interested in the treatise, I'm trying to find an easily replicable way for others to go through the same non-standard procedure I use to activate scrolls. Instead of using magical aptitude, it relies on one's observations of the form, the language, the writing, and so on to activate its magic. I... have been in a rut writing it since I got here, admittedly, due to a bit of worry. I can infer that this isn't going to be a mass translation job, which is typically why I'm summoned to someone relatively powerful, when an archaeological team discovers a cache of ancient documents. No, this is something bigger, and it involves more than me. Therefore, it could be a threat to us as all well."
After a moment of recollection and figuring out who it is, Liber speaks up: "Greetings, Lira." The familiar would like to keep conversations short and immediately continues reviewing maps and atlases, making the occasional remark to Krowys about their observations or theories on why they were summoned.
Mira plops herself in a comfy armchair and takes out some knitting. It adds to the persona she wants to present.
A threat, oh, you think so. It must be very significant to bring someone of your accomplishments. There do seem to be a lot of people here and from all kinds of different walks of life and abilities. Maybe we should find out just who is here and what they might be bringing to the table. Perhaps we can organise a little soiree, something with little finger buns and plenty of tea. I do find that people open up far more when they have a good cup of tea and their hands are busy with buns rather than swords and spells. I shall speak to the servants about it tomorrow. Sadly the Free Coast tends to have terrible tea but maybe I can pop out and get some decent stuff.
Ariston watches Mira's new persona with interest. "I hope this is about an event of some import. If this is some aristocrat's birth anniversary wish, I'm going to be cross, possibly even vexed." His comment rides the line between serious and comic. He adds, "Finger buns could de-escalate the situation."
"'My accomplishments' pale in comparison to everyone else here, unless you're referring to those of a Linguistic nature. And I can concur that most of the time, avoiding conflict leads to others being more amenable to questions. And yes, I do think this is a threat. Whether it's a threat arranged against just us, or an attempt to recruit us against some larger threat? Both myself and Liber are unsure."
Seeing as his treatise is going nowhere with his currently-unfocused mind, Krowys instead turns his head to the others in the room. "Oh, Ariston. Greetings. I did not notice you there."
In response to Ariston's comment, Liber "nods" (the closest equivalent to a nod that an orb can accomplish), before responding: "The situation is the same with the two of us. If it's some celebratory event, it will have been a pointless waste of time, barring it being with some foreign people Krowys and I would need to translate for."
Seeing as his treatise is going nowhere with his currently-unfocused mind, Krowys instead turns his head to the others in the room. "Oh, Ariston. Greetings. I did not notice you there."
The cleric waves off his concern over a potential slight. "It matters not. You were busy or perhaps I'm working on a spell of social invisibility and this was a successful first test." He chuckles.
"I would not be surprised if a spell with that effect already existed. I know there are spells which grant anonymity, and those which grant invisibility. Heh. Being serious though, I believe it was because I was absorbed in my work... or rather my attempt at work." After that paltry attempt at light conversation, Krowys continues observing the people in the room.
Lazur is busy cleaning and checking his gear after returning to his house from a few days spent helping to take care of some demons. He notices the bird flying for his home and moves to the window and opens it and isn't surprised when the bird disappears after giving him the note which he reads. He thinks to himself "Good thing I was already checking my gear. I'll repack it and have to find some transportation from Haven to the Free Coast."
He finally arrives and finds many familiar faces in the cottage he was assigned to. He greets each with a smile and then asks the group "What have I missed? Anything fun?"
After wards he says "Excuse me for a bit, I need to unpack and see to my room." He then heads to his room and inspects it thoroughly for any signs of spying or threats. He then proceeds to unpack and make himself comfortable.
Upon finishing he heads out to the common room and looks around. He lets out a small chuckle and say"Krowys, I see you are working on another book. I hope this one is informative as the last was."
It takes Trer quite a bit longer to arrive than some of the other guests. After all, some of us still have to walk places. Still, Trer was almost as fast as a horse, and a little heartier than one. Days of walking were not much of a challenge for her. It wasn't the flattery that convinced her to come, nor was it the promise of a great challenge. It was the promise of food, and a lot of it. The letter had found Trer deep in the jungles of Sogard, and she was growing tired of eating whatever she could scavenge. Besides, she hadn't found any real dragons here yet, and was getting bored of terrorizing the serpent-folk.
While mighty, Trer cannot make the 250 mile swim back to the main continent without most likely drowning, so she must wait for a boat. After that, it's a few day trek across the countryside, eating sheep that she comes across, and resting only occasionally. She's good and hungry by the time that she makes it to the Senator's estate. After eating and drinking everything she can get her hands on, she goes to bed for at least a day.
Mira gently chides Krowys as he demurs about his accomplishments, Come now dearie, I am quite sure you bring a great deal to the party as it were. After all, the letter said we would be meeting with our equals, and Ariston here has a reputation that crosses the continent surely! There are precious few people capable of restoring the dead so fully or even invoking the will of a God directly. I think this Senator wants you for more than just your linguistic skills.
With a grin she heads off to find the butler and arrange for a suitable spread for the following day. She also visits each of the other cottages and drops off a short note inviting them to tomorrows tea party. Before returning she glances around to see if she is observed and recasts Veil, taking on the appearance of a young elven girl. She then promptly vanishes.
A moment later she appears in an alley behind The Tea Barn, a simple café and attached warehouse in the elven city of Tor Alva. Ducking inside she buys several different exquisite tea blends before heading back outside and teleporting back to the house. Adjusting her disguise again she heads off to the kitchens to ensure that the house has a decent supply of excellent tea.
"I certainly do not use my magic as freely or as often as some of you do, at least."
Turning to Lazur, he smiles (a rare sight for the aphorite) and responds: "It will be, presumably. Though instead of the numerous dictionaries and texts on linguistics, this treatise is on how to avoid relying on one's magical aptitude when reading from a Scroll. I imagine someone like you would be able to pull it off easily enough, but I... have been stuck writing it, and have decided to take a break while I worry about why we were all summoned here."
In the meantime, Liber is still pouring over geographical information in silence, their single eye scanning as much information as they can get their metallic, clawed hands on.
"You may not use magic much, but you have it. A sword is still a sword whether sheathed or in hand... Judging by many of the 'luminaries' presently here, our host feels a great many 'swords' are needed. I have a growing hope we are not here for a music recital."
The cleric pulls out a hip flask, raises it in salute to his cottage-mates, and takes a respectful swig. "Wine is fine but liquor is quicker."
Hearing the Cleric's words, Liber looks up at the Aasimar, then immediately continues pouring over the geographical data laid in front of him.
"I will continue to drink this juice, it is best to remain vigilant should anything happen. I may be able to translate inebriated well enough, but utilizing magic is something that does not come nearly as natural to me, so I will avoid the alcoholic beverages until this is over," the Aphorite blurts.
"If it is for a music recital, it will not be just you who is displeased. There is at least that," Krowys remarks while sipping the juice drink provided to him.
Mira breezes back into the cottage carrying a variety of teas as well as a range of cooking and other utensils. Magic you say, not natural to you... She gives a sly look at the highly magical arbiter buzzing around Krowys. Of course not dear. Now, who wants tea and perhaps some rather excellent and freshly cooked pastries?
Settling down into the kitchen area to make preparations Mira begins to hum to herself. You know, even if this does turn out to be some silly noble's personal vanity affair I wont mind too much. After all, it has meant that we have all managed to meet up again and just imagine what sort of mischief we could get up to together? She pauses and cocks her head to one side.
That does raise an interesting point. It is unusual to bring together such a number of "exceptional" individuals. This Senator is a bit mysterious but it is possible that other, more powerful, forces are acting through him. Just imagine, we could be caught up in the schemes of Fate itself! Wouldn't that be exciting!. She gives Ariston a sly look, You could always check it out for us Ariston, a little Commune magic perhaps? I am sure Varan would give you the inside scoop...
Ariston shadows Mira into the kitchen and waits for the opportunity to openly 'steal' a pastry. "If the Senator keeps us waiting for more than another day AND your delightful snacks run out... I may be forced to consult with Varan himself on this matter. I'm reasonably certain I'm in his good graces despite Firas' ire."
"What I meant to say regarding my magic, is that it does not come from my blood like it does for you, Mira. It comes from a pact with Axis, hence why Liber is an Arbiter. I doubt I could make a pact with any other plane like this, barring perhaps Sophis, owing to my nature as a linguist and translator."
Following Mirabelle into the kitchen, Krowys "I'll have one of the pastries as you so offered, Mira" Krowys says before grabbing one, and idly munching on it. It isn't in his nature to 'steal' a pastry, even as a light-hearted action. Meanwhile, Liber is still hovering in the common room, away from the overwhelming aura of chaos that is Ariston.
She takes out the letter again and scans it. High Senator Orteza, where have I heard that name before.... She mutters a couple of spells and sits down to ponder.Casting Investigative Mind, Bestow Insight, Heightened Awareness and Heroism.
Knowledge Nobility, Heroism, BI, HA: 2d20 ⇒ (5, 2) = 7 take the best +12+2+6+2 for 27
Well, he seems like he should be a reliable sort but best to be careful.
You recall Senator Orteza pushing for legislation that offered protections for persecuted mages, particularly "Blooded"/sorcerers like you, especially those troubled by the Empire. While there is political and tactical reason for a Free Coast politician to take such a stance, it stuck in your mind due to your personal history. He also pushes for funding of sea exploration expeditions, as what is west of the Mevvergard is largely unknown.
You've also heard he tends to be fairly reclusive outside of showing up to senatorial or congressional sessions--certainly not the type to throw lavish birthday parties, for example.
During the long evenings while she waits for the rest of the group to arrive Mira cannot resist doing a little snooping. Depending on how much time she has she will do some or all of the following (employing Paragon Surge each day to get one or more of these spells).
Greater Prying Eyes to do some snooping around the Senators home.
Retrocognition to learn of any significant events that might have occurred in their cottage.
You are able to spend up to 17 minutes looking back on the last 17 years of what has happened in this cottage. Which is, overall, very little. As best as you can tell, it has been very seldom occupied and the most dramatic thing that has occurred was a young human, presumably a servant, having a "sorcerer's apprentice" type mishap trying to use magic to clean the cottage. You also see an image of an elderly woman sitting at a desk doing some research about 10 years ago, which is the last time you can discern anyone notable stayed here.
Discern Location to discover where the Senator actually is.
At the moment you cast the spell, Senator Orteza is in the Manor House, Rolling Vale Manor, Greater Capital Metropolitan Region of San Eslpet, Isenor, Mevvergard, Scrithengard, Prime Material Plane. (i.e., the manor house where you all are.)
Greater Arcane Sight to check out the cottage and surrounding grounds for magical effects.
The cottage itself has no current spells cast upon it apart from your own magnificent mansion spell and any other spells you have cast.
You can see some simple alarm spells cast near the perimeter of the grounds, which is not an unusual sight to see at a property like this. As you look toward some of the nearby cottages, you can see various wards and protections on some of the doors indicative of its occupants wanting privacy.
An elf (of at least similar spellcasting prowess to your own) in long turquoise robes (which themselves are very enchanted with common magical robe features that I am not specifying only because it's not important) sitting outside his cottage writing in his journal looks up as he hears your feet softly pad along the grassy lawn between the cottages. He begins to greet you when he spots your glowing blue eyes and grumbles. "Do you mind?" He slams his book shut, stands, and marches into the cottage behind him, and based on what you observe next, casts wizard lock on it followed by several other wards.
Meanwhile, the man you recognizes as the senator's butler--Arden, you think his name was--is standing at the cottage next door, featuring the contigent from the Isle of Tegany. He is speaking with a gnome with fluffy, honey hued hair, wearing a gray and teal tabard indicating she is a servant of Merinn.
"I... really? I had no idea. That is, the Senator had no idea. Why didn't you tell anyone he was missing?"
She shifts awkwardly. "I understood it to be his wishes. Mercane had very specific instructions he left to the Exarch. She was doing her duty. And she is-"
"But 50 years? He's been missing 50 years?"
Lazur sits and relaxes. Something he as little time to do normally. Upon being offered pastries he pipes up, "That sounds wonderful. I would love a warm pastry when they are ready."
...also pushes for funding of sea exploration expeditions, as what is west of the Mevvergard is largely unknown.
Explore the grounds, locate all entrances to the House, explore each floor of the House, report back with everything which you see.
She then sits back to wait for them to return. Hopefully if they are spotted no-one will associate them with her. The Senator surely has many different people who try to spy on him all the time and so is likely warded against some divinations. If they dont work and Ariston cannot be convinced to consult his God then she may have to Contact and Outer Plane herself.
As she wanders about and overhears the conversation she dips away, not wanting to be caught snooping. She does wonder just who Mercane or the Exarch might be.
Mira gives him a little wave as he slams his book shut. Sorry dear, no offence intended. I was just checking out our hosts facilities, making sure everyone is safe and sound but you seem more than capable of protecting yourself.
When she delivers her tea and finger buns to the group she very pointedly refuses to notice the blatant thievery taking place under her nose. Handing one to Krowys and Lazur she grins, This place seems fairly secure. The Senator seems like a decent sort if rather protective of his privacy. It seems like one of his guests might be missing though, anyone heard of a Mercane or Exarch?
Knowing the spell from its multiple eyes, Krowys pipes up. "Liber did say that spell would be one Axis could grant, but I never felt the need to quite literally have around 17 or so eyes to pry on people. Most of our magic we prepare is focused on a mix of being able to deal with any threats, and healing any damage dealt by threats. You need to be alive to translate, being the reasoning."
Krowys continues idly munching on the pastry, in between the words. It is far better than anything the aphorite has managed to scrounge up himself, not being a phenomenal cook by any stretch of the imagination.
Mari grins at Krowys, I find its always better to be fully informed when heading into any sort of negotiation. Less room for misunderstandings then.
And then I dont get cross and turn people into lawn ornaments...
Lazur smiles at Mria and says "Thank you very much. This sure beats eating while we are normally trying to fix things. I'll have to think a moment to see if I recognize those names."
27
32
25
22
The front door of the cabin slams open. A hulking woman reeking of day old ale is silhouetted in the doorway. As she moves forward, Trer comes into view. Short blonde hair, a permanent sneer, blue eyes, and countless scars are the most notable things about her. To Mira she is positively adorned in powerful magics, from head to toe.
"Think I drank too much last night," she booms, "Made them deliver me food to where I got in, and ended up passing out under a tree. It's been a long walk, so I hope this was worth it." She looks around at the other house guests appraisingly. "Don't recognize the old woman."[/b She points at Lazur. [b]"Worked with you once on a heist, although I can't remember which one. I remember you had good work ethic though, so I guess it must have been ok..." Her eyes glaze over Ariston and land on Krowys. They widen.
"Is that The Translator?" she says in a pitch slightly less than a bellow. Tromping across the room, she pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment. On it is a work of Neenian calligraphy bearing the words I can't read cursive very well. It isn't of a particularly high quality, in fact most would actively call it poor quality, but has obviously been made by a careful practitioner doing their best to abide by all the conventions of the art form. She thrusts the paper under Krowys nose. "What do you think?" she asks, with the enthusiasm of a child showing a work of art to a parent.
The elf nods at Mira, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Rest assured, madam, I've known the Senator for a long time, and we could not be safer." He nonetheless scoots indoors.
"Exarch" is a religious title, like High Priest. Exarch of what, you'd need more information to discern.
You're not sure about Mercane--he was not a member of the nobility, but you can swear you've come across his name before somewhere. Oddly enough, it sounds familiar to Liber too: he thinks he was a mortal who visited Axis long ago.
"Exarch" is a fancy phrase for high priest.
"Mercane," you saw mentioned in some paperwork about land acquisitions and magic use from about 150-200 years ago while doing some research over some inheritance squabbles and loss due to . Khyber Mercane originally was the owner of most of the land on the Island of Tegany and responsible for major building projects in the city of Ramsouth. On more than one occasion, Mercane sued for financial assistance from the Parliament of Janqes to rebuild after an earthquake damaged part of the city.
"Exarch" is a fancy phrase for high priest, and you think, if connection to Tegany is relevant, probably refers to being the leader of a place in the city of Ramsmouth on that island, called the Mechanosanctum (which based on what you know about Mercane, you can speculate likely was involved in its construction). Some kind of relic-housing temple, run jointly by the churches of Aurit (god of magic, medicine, and learning), Merinn (god of crafting and cities), Atanna (goddess of hierarchies, nobility, and conquest), and Pala (goddess of justice and just governance).
Krowys takes a reasonable amount of time to look at the calligraphy thrusted under his nose, before responding, "It shows vast improvement, Trer. It is good to see you here as well, I figured someone of your renown and abilities would show up sooner or later, in fact. None of us seem to have your abilities in melee, so if a threat were, say, immune to magic we would have an incredibly hard time overcoming it. I wonder if this is everyone..? Apologies if a bit of crystalline dust gets on the paper, it tends to flake a fair bit."
"Regarding Mercane and Exarch, I do know that Exarch is a religious title, and presumably not a name, unless they've adopted it as one. And Mercane--" After which, Liber briefly comes in to chime in on the Mercane, "He was a mortal which visited Axis at one point, if memory serves correctly. It was quite long ago, if what I remember is correct.". Before deciding to hover out of the room, and back to studying the Geographical information he was looking at prior.
"Hm." Trer says. "Good answer. It would have been a better answer if you had told me I still had a long way to go though. You don't have to coddle me."
She takes a ring off of her finger, tossing it in the air and catching it, before passing it to Krowys. "Put this on. It'll make any injury you take only hurt half as much, and let me know you're in danger to boot. Just-" she adds, "Don't go swimming in lava or nothing. And give it back when we're done here. As you might guess, something like that is pretty valuable." She doesn't tell him the exact mechanism that the damage will be mitigated by, but wouldn't be surprised if he could guess.
"I have two guesses as to what this is. One of which would likely lead to me loaning it to someone else here, the other I could still use. Is this a ring of protection, or is it a ring of force shield? I already have quite an adequate ring of protection, but a ring of force shield could be useful. Regardless, it doesn't hurt to have two of the same ring on, regardless."
After he finishes speaking, he slides the Ring onto the hand opposite the one with an already extant ring on.
"Close." She leaves it at that.
Between the eyebrow-raising talk of missing Exarchs (a station with which Ariston was quite familiar), Tegany Cottage being the locus of much activity and at least a couple mysteries, and most of his cottage-mates being determined to fret or ferret the answers to their presence here before the Senator (most likely) presented the explanation to them on a silver platter… Ariston’s plans for a pleasant evening of companionship were utterly short-sheeted. He couldn’t even get a playful rise out of Mira while stealing a pastry. Ariston didn’t normally retain a Commune spell in mind… mysteries delighted him as did solving them in a conventional manner. And he damn well wasn’t going to spend a lovely evening dragging one from the depths of his memory. Time to find amusement where he could.
The cleric pulls himself from the chair and packs a napkin full of pastries from the table. He passes Mira as he heads for the door, ”The pastries are fantastic. Thank you. I’m off to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
He takes a leisurely stroll around the grounds before heading toward Tegany Cottage, where he knocks politely.
Krowys notices the paired ring on Trer (presumably), and rests his head in his palm, annoyed with how he missed the obvious. "Oh, a ring of Friend Shield. That makes far more sense, now that I think about it."
Trer wiggles her fingers where a similar ring resides. "Used them as wedding rings once for a time. Didn't work out..." She grins. "Mostly because the guards were looking for a single female barbarian, not a nice married half elven couple. We both got through the city perimeter and went our separate ways. Wonder what they're up to now, my husband of about 3 hours." She laughs. "So! What's the good word about why we're here?"
Lazur smiles at Trer showing Krowys his work. He ponders for a moment why the muscle types seem to want the approval of those with more knowledge. He shakes his head and says, "Good to see you again Trer. I think it was actually two jobs we have worked on together, one a retrieval of stolen property the other finding some old tomes in an ancient forgotten library. Both successful but I am not surprised you don't remember the second one there were no live or undead creatures to be dealt with just lots and lots of traps." Lazur then sighs remembering the number of traps that had to be dealt with. He brightens up and says "I hope our current gathering is much more fun and pleasant. I think I still have dust I'm cleaning up from that job."
Krowys turns to Lazur, and says, "Do not forget the possibility of bashing constructs, as well, Lazur. I imagine a strong enough golem would still provide a challenge to Trer all the same. I believe I may have also helped translate a few of the tomes after the fact, if I remember the latter incident correctly."
[dice=Knowledge Religion/Local on Exarch, Krowys (same modifier)] d20 + 26
[dice=Knowledge Religion/Local on Exarch, Liber (same modifier)] d20 + 6
[dice=Knowledge Planes/Arcana (same bonus), Krowys] d20 + 26
[dice=Knowledge Planes, Liber] d20 + 31
According to Liber, Mercane had created a contract with Axis regarding maintenance services at the Mechanosanctum. Nothing terribly remarkable, save that it is one of the few contracts mortals of Scrithengard had created with Axis. But that was 150 years ago.
He takes a leisurely stroll around the grounds before heading toward Tegany Cottage, where he knocks politely.
When you go outside to speak to the inhabitants of "Tegany Cottage," you don't even need to knock. A gnome stands outside the front door, bearing a tabard with grey and teal colors and an anvil symbol on her breastplate, all indicating obvious service to the god Merinn. She is sitting with a crossbow nearly as large as she is, fitted out with very complex gears that are presumably part of some kind of autoloading mechanism, tinkering with its components. At first one might think the expression on her face is one of intense concentration, but then a tear trickles down one cheek.
Mira is pottering around in the kitchen as Trer makes her entrance. She does bristle slightly at being called the "old woman" but restrains herself from plane shifting Trer to somewhere inconvenient. Instead she gives a slight wave of her hand and a glowing blue door appears in the middle of the sitting room. Perhaps you might want to avail yourself of one of the baths dear, you will find them inside and upstairs. I have some extra soap somewhere around here if you need it.
She promptly goes back to checking on her broth which is being stirred by a wooden spoon all on its own. She is apparently oblivious to the chatter of the group. However, her sharp ears pay careful attention to everything being said.
As the discussion turns to Mercane she pipes up, Oh, he was some sort of planar scholar. Wrote a treatise on planar energies and the cataclysm. It was pretty good. You might have come across it Krowys.
She notices Ariston ducking outside and briefly considers following him but decides against it. Best not to start getting too paranoid, he wasn't likely to be working for anyone who wanted to kill or ruin her. Probably.
"Oh, wait, that was him? Regarding the Exarch, the city of Ramsmouth on Tegany houses the Mechanosanctum, which contains a relic or relics he'd collected in his planar research, especially from Axis. The Mechanosanctum is cared for by clergy from Atanna, Pala, Aurit, and Merinn. It is seemingly invite-only, and a semi-remote island does not really need a translator, regardless of any connection to Axis, but the Axis connection is how me and Liber know of it," Krowys responds he continues sipping his juice drink and eating pastries.
Invite only you say. Well, I tend to find those sorts of conditions are more, "suggestions", than actual conditions. I can get into most places if I put my mind to it.
"According to what Liber told me a few months or so ago while researching, Mercane had created a contract with Axis regarding maintenance services at the Mechanosanctum. Nothing terribly remarkable, save that it is one of the few contracts mortals of Scrithengard had created with Axis. But that was 150 years ago, hence the need for us to do research on it. So, as a result, I would rather not go barging in on one of the few places on Scrithengard that has contracts with Axis. As a witch in a pact with that exact plane, I do not want to imagine the consequences for potentially teleporting in there unwarranted."
Teleportation! I wouldnt dream of it dear. Way too many potential countermeasures. You could be diverted almost anywhere. Much better to glide through the walls in some incorporeal form, you avoid most wards and traps that way.
She stops herself, realising that her excitement at the idea of breaking into somewhere new is jarring with her matronly "old woman" persona. Anyway, this broth wont cook itself, I had better get on.
"I imagine you still would have to teleport somewhere near it, before entering in as some incorporeal entity."
It is good to have confirmation that she has not necessarily changed much with the change in face, Krowys thinks to himself.
"Being a priest is a heavy load at times. We are always there for our respective flocks to unburden themselves. But we - or should I say I - have had moments where I have no one to share my burden. Sometimes there is another Varanite priest I can speak to, but I have been doing this job for decades longer than most of them. They don't understand the terrible weight, the different perspective, that a senior member of the clergy has to have. They try their best, of course, to understand and be comforting. They offer Varan's liturgy, but I already know it. Sometimes, I gain more from a different perspective. Have you ever had that experience, or am I merely sharing my own doubts?"
@Mira: Not all of your eyes make it. ((The ones that return witnessed the following: at least a few were dispelled by a house guard who could apparently see them, some were accidentally eaten by the groundskeeper's dog, and a few others got lost near a pile of flour and stirred into a cake, likely being destroyed during baking.)) You get a scenic tour of the exterior grounds of the manor house and the cottages.
The house and grounds bustle with the activity of its household staff, many of whom appear to be spellcasters. Some are using magic much as you do, to attend to everyday tasks, though more mundane like cleaning and preparation. Others go about more specific tasks of casting what are likely protective wards or lighting spells.
The rooms are very large and contain furniture to accommodate hominids of all sizes. The central meeting room is extremely large, cavernous, with a wide space in the center of the room. A 20 foot wide, well sealed door leads somewhere else in the back of that room.
Adjacent to the meeting room is another wide room featuring a large table covered with various maps and dioramas of locations in Scrithengard. Arden the butler is speaking to another man in a fine Isenorian buttoned jacket. "Yes, well, we can't keep them much longer, these folk have many important duties and I shan't want to lose them," the other man says. He begins to look around, and says, "Pardon me," and appears to cast a few spells. "Indeed, I'm sure some of our guests are starting to snoop instead of asking you any questions directly. You're not being overly officious, are you?"The eye hovers around Arden to get a better look at the other man.
The man is a olive-skinned human man with a goatee, sandy hair greying at the temples, and eyes the color of verdigris. And at the same time, you also see, as though overlaid over the man, looming very large, obscuring anything else the eye can see, this face, Gargantuan in proportion smiling in its toothy, fangy way, straight at you, and says playfully, "I do so hate it when people want to spoil my surprises."
He continues to address the eye directly. "But do please rest assured--hmm, is that you, Ankirree? Or perhaps Mirabelle. Either way, do please rest assured, I was just waiting for the rest of our guests to arrive, and I am so very sorry my hospitality has not been enough to keep you occupied in the meantime. Or," he hesitates here, "Perhaps, I failed to make you feel safe enough? Oh dear." He frowns, sounding genuinely contrite. "Even after all these years, I sometimes struggle to remember how easily anxious you folk are. Oh, that was not my intention at all! To make you worry. I shall endeavor to do better next time, and shall invite you in soon enough. We have just had a great deal to prepare, so thank you very much for your patience."
The gnome is so engrossed in her crossbow that she nearly jumps at the sound of Ariston's voice. But at his words, she relaxes and softens.
"You're very kind to a total stranger." She offers a hand. "I am Mara Twitchfiddle, servant of Merinn." She quickly wipes the remains of the tear from her face once she gets her hand back.
"The burdens of senior clergy... is it that obvious? I guess it would be, for who else would be here?" She sighs. "I want to make clear, I believe in my heart of hearts that my superior, Exarch Isil, has very, very good intentions. But, those good intentions have led her to lie to me. To many of us. And I don't like how that feels. Also, that our host thinks a man 100 years gone should be here means there's some serious communication problems!"
As the eye returns and relays its message Mira casually crushes it in her hand and grins. Well, that explains a lot, no wonder he is quite so private. I am surprised he isn't mind blanked, maybe I should suggest it. Hmm, he might not be capable of it, I wouldn't want to offend...
She snaps herself out of her reverie. Has anyone heard of Ankirree, seems they may be another of the guests...
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