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Jeeves looks slightly warily at the huge trees all around.
"This does not seem like the sort of place a gunsmith would want to be? Would they not need a forge?"
He glances upward, hoping for a glimpse of the almost forgotten sun.
"Ahh... perhaps that is what we are looking for?" he suggests, pointing out a treehouse.
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"My apologies, but I need to be able to see.", says Ahzeem while raising his left arm at shoulder length and 45 degrees above. "Great Goddess Serenade please gift your Light upon your servant." A small pale yellow "Sun" appears at his fingertips. When he lowers his hand it continues to float at the same position as he moves along. "I can provide up to 3 more for anyone who wishes."
Light:
Traditions: arcane, divine, occult, primal Range: 120 feet
Duration: until your next daily preparations
You create an orb of light that sheds bright light in a 20-foot radius (and dim light for the next 20 feet) in a color you choose. If you create the light in the same space as a willing creature, you can attach the light to the creature, causing it to float near that creature as it moves. You can Sustain the spell to move the light up to 60 feet; you can attach or detach it from a creature as part of this movement.
You can Dismiss the spell. If you Cast the Spell while you already have four light spells active, you must choose one of the existing spells to end.
Heightened (4th) The orb sheds light in a 60-foot radius (and dim light for the next 60 feet).
Ahzeem hears Percival and looks around.....
High above the forest floor and partially obscured by thick branches, a sprawling home sways with the tall trees. At least a dozen acorn-shaped huts encompass trunks at varying heights, connected by sturdy rope bridges. Each structure is surrounded by a wooden balcony and railing with odd gaps that lead into thin air. Glass globes hang from ropes strung over the bridges and huts, and hundreds of luminous insects feast on the glowing lichen contained within. More of the same insects feast on lichen growing on the tree trunks and branches, providing plenty of light for the entire home. An individual bearing remarkable resemblance to a large screech owl peers down from the entrance to one hut.
“Tsimaan, who have you brought me?” they ask, their voice gravelly and laced with displeasure.
“I’ve brought you friends, Whiirii,” Tsimaan replies with a chuckle. “Provided you don’t scare them off with your glum demeanor first.”
Whiirii’s beak makes an audible clack. “We’ll see about that. State your business, strangers.”
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Gwen squints upward at the grumpy gunsmith. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. Whiirii, is it? I'm Gwen." She makes a small curtsy.
"We are told you are a skilled gunsmith with deep knowledge. We have a very special weapon that we would like your help with. I think you might be very interested in seeing it. Come see what we have and then you can tell us if you're interested." She gives him a dazzling smile in the dark.
Whiirii clacks their beak again. They walk to a gap in the railing, pause, and then fall forward into empty air. They allow themself to plummet toward the ground for a few seconds before snapping their wings open and gliding gracefully to the forest floor. Dozens of glowing insects follow them down the bottom and take up residence on the tree trunks, providing bright light for the entire clearing.
The Pathfinders can get a better look now at the syrinx.
“I’m Whiirii, a gunsmith. I make, repair, and alter an assortment of guns for those who seek out my services.” Whiirii pauses and
looks the Pathfinders up and down. “Who are you, and what o you want from me?”
