Ranek does his best to hide from the undead, but there is little cover avaiable...
Torisen sees the undead horde advancing, and feels powerless to stop it, but suddenly he feels a change within him, like a Harrow card flipped, and a phrase of power leaps to his lips, pushing back the wave.
"Yes, spiritualist! Drive them back, I command it!"
Sir Batman tries really really really hard!
Mazludah really likes me!
With Alaznist’s aid, Batman and Torisen turn back the tide of undead. However, no sooner have you escaped the horde then a rain of blood pours from the sky, evoking recent memories of the Godsrain. Yet where this blood falls, it gathers quickly into a flood that washes away great swaths of land, carrying away entire cities! You are caught in the tide!
BLOOD RAIN
Ranek calls on his magic, quickly gathering up lumber and rope to assemble a raft. The vision resists, but he thinks, This I have done before! Channeling more of his power, he hurls together a raft they can use to ride out the tidal wave of blood.
Sir Batman braces his ever present shield against the flood!
Then he recalls that he is actually a 6" tall Sprite!
Keep roll'n, roll'n, roll'n....
Sir Batman grins as the Champion winks up at Mazludah!
Ranek’s quick crafting and Batman’s might allow you to quickly navigate the blood rain. But as rivers of blood cut rifts into the world, tremors rip through the land. Rifts yawn open, mountains crumble, and the oceans begin to drain as the planet begins to collapse!
THE WORLD OPENS
So many stories about to drown away in god's blood. Iesha tries to call to them, lead them away from death to safety. But she is a horror herself making them shrink back.
Then fate slips through, letting her reach inside herself, shifting her disguise on again before shouting "This way!" This time they listen.
Torisen tumbles, but the survivors are just out of his reach.
Music swells behind Alaznist, but the grim tones that often inspire dread don't do much to help her in harvesting the trust of frightened innocents...
Sir Batman really considers using his massive muscular to physically force the ground to close (seems ready cool!), but the Champion of Mazludah decides to be practical and diplomatic to Aid Guide the Crowd.
Iesha focuses her will on a crumbling roof, sending it careening toward the one named Torisen instead of away.
You survive the crumbling world and get several people to safety, but things immediately get worse. The world is suddenly stripped of all life, water receding into cracked earth as plants wither and the sun explodes into scorching heat before freezing cold and eternal night consume what’s left. Only a very few survive…
DEVOID OF LIFE
Torisen looks for omens in this dead world. What could have caused this?
As the ground cracked and heaved beneath him, Ranek guided survivors over rooftops and bridges to try and get them to safety.
The world lay dying, parched and scorched, and Ranek knew he wasn't the most capable survivor. He focused, instead, on chronicling the great city of Magnimar, so that any other survivors or those who came to reclaim it knew of its grand history.
Just as the scholars have finished preserving their lore, the world shatters into an endless void, pieces of the dream flying through the air as darkness threatens to swallow up all memories and life!
Dropping his unused notebook, unsharpened pencil and never once used pencil sharpener, Sir Batman's blue eyes widen at the shattering of their surroundings!
That's uncomfortable.
The bronze-colored bat-shaped Sprite blinks repeatedly.
The Champion of Mazludah attempts to hold his insides inside (similar to an ill advised breakfast burrito buffet he had once)!
He burps.
Iesha has resisted death before, so as her body started to shatter, she said ""
Torn into fragments of scattered memory? The world destroyed around her? The laws of time ceasing to labor?
It must be Tuesday.
With a will that persists past all ends, Alaznist continues to strive, and with a song of triumph in her heart, and even in the air around her, she triumphs.
Torisen usually isn't one to make a big fuss, but this situation makes him want to shout his existence into the universe.
You prove yourselves defiant in the face of utter annihilation. The hooded figure appears before you again, a towering being with blood-red arms and only swirling smoke and ash where a face should be. Both Alaznist and Sir Batman recognize the entity as the Ashen Man, a figurehead for many apocalyptic cults across Golarion.
The Ashen Man raises his twisted staff, and a wave of searing heat washes over you--
--right as you wake up from the dream! You find yourselves back in your rooms, with no injuries. While the memories of the horrors you witnessed remain fresh, you feel stronger from the experience. Your mythic destinies are now within your grasp!
Ranek awoke. Rolling out of the bed, he grabbed his halberd, rune flaring to life as he did so. Standing on the floor, he scanned the room for signs of the ash-faced figure. Seeing nothing, but remembering the others from the dream, he dressed and went in search of them to discuss the ramifications of these portents while they were fresh in their minds.
"This dream troubles me. Who was that figure of smoke and ash, who seemed to be a harbinger of apocalypse?"
Being a Runelord researcher, Ranek knows quite a bit more about Liralarue's history.
The uppermost levels of the complex were used as barracks for spies. There, Liralarue discovered a strange slab of transparent crystal that had unusual divinatory powers that she was able to enhance. Liralarue underwent extensive secret retraining to abandon the traditions of magic she learned as Karzoug’s apprentice to shift her area of focus from transmutation magic to divination magic—a practice unheard of among Thassilon’s wizards.
Liralarue hoped to develop her mastery of divination to the point where she could found an eighth school of Thassilonian magic, one focused on divination and that allowed the specialist to choose which two schools of magic they wished to exclude from their studies. The rune of this theoretical school of Thassilonian magic was a circle with seven hooks along its circumference, and it was associated with the sin of vainglory—a sin some conflate with pride yet is more about the obsessive need to be seen and vanity than it is about an overinflated sense of self-worth and the importance of one’s deeds.
In addition to developing her own school of magic, Liralarue hoped to emerge into the political scene of Thassilon as an eighth runelord but never quite reached the point in power where she felt comfortable taking such a step. Instead, in the final months she had left before Earthfall, she turned her focus toward the task of reverse engineering a runewell, in hopes of transforming the entire Pit into an immense well of divinatory power from which she could draw strength.
In the final days before Earthfall, Liralarue’s skill at divination warned her that an apocalyptic event would devastate Thassilon. She grew increasingly frustrated when her attempts to learn more only enhanced her fears without providing details or clues on how to escape devastation. In some of her final notes, she admitted a deep personal realization—that divination should remain unstudied because knowledge of the future can’t help and will only distract and fill you with dread, overwhelming you with the feeling of hopelessness.
"A potent dream, and full of import," Torisen reflects. He sits up on his bed and asks, "What do you think of it, Geoffrey?"
A boa constrictor with rune-like markings on his scales slides out from under the bed, where he was warming himself. His eyes focus on Torisen and he opens his mouth to speak in Common.
"Doom walks your nightmares," Geoffrey hisses. "But why?"
Sir Batman wakes up. The bronze-colored bat-shaped Sprite blinks.
Not another Dream adventure! My faculties have just begun to reassert themselves! Stupid Ashen Man!
The Sprite giggles.
Too bad he doesn't have the former Professor's address!
Not a bit sleepy for some reason, the hyper Sprite decides to grab all his belongings and seek out his new friends.....
Peeking out of his room to look down the hall, Sir Batman frowns.
Probably should have asked which rooms they were in...
Shrugging, the Champion of Mazludah begins pacing up and down the hall, as if on patrol while he waits....
A ghost head crests the floor behind the sprite as Ranek walks into the hall, becoming more and more Iesha-like as she rises. This is the Iesha from the dream, not the middle aged woman from the night before, even down the massive and creepy sword on her back.
"I do not dream anymore, so this was... an aberration."
Alaznist gasps as she wakes, choking down a scream as some lost part of her forebear burns its way into her soul. Never does it occur to her to deny the shard; no matter the agony, she can feel its power.
She goes and finds the others, still dressed in an old-fashioned nightgown. "You may be at ease. Liralarue doubtless lives with nightmares far worse every night. Her 'divinations' mean she knows what I'm going to do her for this trespass."
Torisen and Geoffrey conclude that the nature of the dream you experienced was much more powerful than a typical dream message spell or similar effect. It would seem that it was infused with mythic power itself, as evidenced by your newfound abilities upon waking.
***
Soon after awakening and getting ready for the day, the innkeeper informs you that a message has arrived inviting you to Midnight's Gallery, Nocticula’s cathedral in the main square of the city, where the Circle of Open Hands portal is being constructed. The sender of the invitation is the temple’s leader, the nephilim artist Ayavah.
Located in the northern reach of the city, Midnight’s Gallery is an impressive building adorned with unusual sculptures and great stained-glass windows. The windows depict imagery of the night sky and a woman wreathed in stars reaching out to tiny humanoid figures. The sculptures vary in shape and size, but the most prominent are of succubi.
Ayavah approaches you with a smile and open arms, her six-fingered hands raised in greeting. “I am Ayavah. Welcome to Xin-Eurythnia, and thank you for accepting my invitation! I hope you are enjoying your visit to our city thus far?”
"It's been a mixed bag so far, to be frank," Torisen says, straightforwardly. "But, thank you for the invitation, all the same. What can we do for you?"
Ayavah nods and her smile fades. "To the point, then. The truth is, I asked you here to help out with a potential threat to the city. Rumors have been swirling about a cult planning to sabotage the unveiling ceremony of the Circle of Open Hands. Unfortunately, all I've been albe to learn about these rumors is that this cult calls themselves the Risen of the Trinity Star, suggesting that they have something to do with the mysterious falling star that many saw fall over the Kodar Mountains over a year ago. I had hoped to learn more about this threat before I escalate the issue to Queen Sorshen’s attention. Your reputations and past actions have lead me to believe that you might be best suited to investigate the veracity of these rumors.
"The rumors suggest that the Risen of the Trinity Star have been recently active in or near an old dawnsilver workshop in the Artisan District. I'd suggest you start your investigation there."
"A task straightforward in direction, if not execution," Torisen says. "Do you know anything about the beliefs of this cult? I have not heard of them before."
"The city is quite interesting. I've particularly enjoyed the architecture and spirited debate around magical theory. It's quite different from that of Xin-Edasseril. I doubt you've asked us here to listen to me talk about that, however."
Ranek listened to Ayavah as she broached the task to them, nodding, and quietly said, "The Risen of the Trinity Star..." as he thought about them.
"What can you tell us about the buildings near the dawnsilver workshop? Are they connected, or is there space between them? What about sewer access, or access to any cave systems in the mountain? Is there somewhere they could easily flee to if cornered?"
Ayavah doesn't know anything else about the cult. The cult must still be rather obscure, as Ranek isn't able to recall anything about them, either.
Once one of many workshops active in Xin-Shalast’s Artisan District focused on rare metals, the name and original owners of the ruined dawnsilver workshop have been lost to antiquity. Located at the very edge of the vast lava flow that engulfed much of the eastern city during Earthfall, today, only the facade and front entrance to the workshop remain visible. The rest of the building (as well as much of its interior) was buried in molten rock that has long since cooled to solid stone.
When Queen Sorshen took over rulership of the city, she and her agents began the months-long task of clearing out the predatory monsters and dangerous hazards lurking in the city’s corners, including in this workshop, which was inhabited by a cult of demon-worshipping nephilim. nephilim. Since their defeat, the building has periodically been used as a base or hideout for other small-time criminal enterprises, like so many others on the edges of the Artisan District. It would seem that the cult is the latest to claim it as their base of operations.
There is only one viable way in or out of the building, through the front door. It would be difficult to flee from it without the use of magic.
Ranek studied the facade of the building. "We should assume that the various small-time criminal enterprises that have used this building have carved some additional spaces out of the lava rock. We don't know much about this cult's abilities, either, so caution would be advisable. Should we announce ourselves, or simply kick open the door?"
"I think we preserve the element of surprise, unless you want me to ask Geoffry to poke around?" Tori offers on behalf of his familiar.
Sir Batman looks up, up, up at Alanzist as the powerful magic-user peeks out into the hallway.
That particular night fashion was all the rage up North. Did you spend time with them Ilverani elves too?
The next morning finds our bronze-colored bat-shaped Sprite sitting in the Common room, enjoying a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, fried potatoes and a pint of orange juice. He sips merrily as Ayavah introduces herself and she explains the situation.
Nice to meet you, Ayavah. I'm Sir Batman, Champion of Mazludah, and recently Missing a Moment.
Sir Batman enjoys another long sip of his freshly squeezed orange juice.
Another cult? I am beginning to suspect that this world has too many cults.
Sir Batman looks at his new friends, winks and grants Ayavah a bronze-colored thumbs up!
I technically here on vacation. Earned some extra days recently. But, cult elimination sounds fun!
At the ruined shop, Sir Batman peers curiously at the almost non-existent structure.
Probably underground.
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Iesha had morphed into a mildly round version of herself in a morning apron, her thick hair in a bun, and a dusting of flour on her cheeks. The specifics of her disguise based on the faint memory of the smell of biscuits brings out in her. She doesn't ask questions to the temple leader, standing back and simply listening is her typical mode.
At the entrance, she looks at these heroes and adventures, neither label fits herself. She doesn't normally descend on a person or group without knowing they are the danger others think they are though. She would ask, she would wait, she would watch, before destroying.
This time she is watching the ones she is with, she guesses, judging? No, that would be an oddity, wouldn't it. A monster watching to see if she walks with other monsters or not..
"I have little taste for unneeded subtleties," Alaznist warns, though she does consent to dismiss the spell which announces her approach. "If needed I can conjure a brief portal between two points, but I suspect the door should suffice."
You make your way through the ruined Artisan District and soon find yourselves before the dawnsilver workshop. A thirty-five-foot-tall building stands amid the encasing stone of an ancient lava flow that buried most of the structure. The dawnsilver workshop’s facade is all that remains visible, with columns carved to resemble pillars of flame. A fifteen-foot-wide entrance, its doors long crumbled to rubble, allows access into a large but empty chamber that may have once served as a storefront for dawnsilver goods, but has long since been looted of anything remotely valuable. Within, four large wooden doors are still intact on the eastern side of the room.
Ranek looked about the room and the doors, then said, "I once saw a street show in Absalom, where a man gave contestants the opportunity to win a prize if they guessed which door the prize lay behind. This room reminds me of that, save that the prize is instead a cult. Well, nothing for it, I suppose." Ranek proceeded to study each of the doors, trying to determine if there were signs to show which ones had been used recently.
As Ranek approaches the doors, the air ripples as a hulking giant suddenly appears in the room! The giant has blue skin, three eyes, fangs, and claws. His hair and beard seems to be formed from delicate ice.
"You louts are intruding on my home," the giant grumbles. "You got two options. One, turn around and leave this place at once. Two, pay me better than the cretins who dwell further within. Two thousand gold should be enough."
"Interesting tactic, to be threatening us when we outnumber you five-to-one," Torisen observes.
He purses his lips and feels a surge of power welling up inside of himself, one that spills out and urges the giant to cooperate.
Ranek says, "We're actually here for thos cretins. If they're causing you inconvenience, we can see about getting them out of here for you. Would that be sufficient payment?"
The three-eyed giant's jaw goes slack as he fully succumbs to Torisen's whammy. He bows to you. "My humblest apologies for my rudeness. I'm not sure what I was thinking. Of course, I have no issues with you proceeding further and ousting the pretenders to the Thassilonian legacy who have taken up residence here."
"Glad to hear it," Torisen says, smugly. "Let's continue on."
"There are a few sinspawn in that room," the giant says, pointing to one of the doors. "The rest of squatters are through those doors," he continues, pointing to the two easternmost ones. "I suspect they're all exiles from Belimarius's lands to the west who haven't yet decided if they want to openly present themselves to Queen Sorshen or pursue more criminal actions in the city. But they paid me well so guard the entrance, so I'm not bothered to think too much more on the topic."
"Very good to know, thank you. Are any of the doors locked or trapped?"
Looking at the others, he said, "Should we start with the sinspawn, or go right to the cultists in question?"
Sir Batman nods approvingly of the diplomatic solution. The Champion of Mazludah shrugs as to which door to pursue first.
Probably the cultists since that is the main objective. The sinspawn will join eventually in the fun!
Iesha continued to watch, even when the one took the will of the guardian away. But when the small one suggested what he did, she spoke "The creatures are a threat to the innocent." she winced a little inside since everything that seems to come out of her mouth since she has met these people is pretentious supernatural judgement. Iesha doesn't think of herself like that... at least not all the time.
Still her 'vote' is clear. Kill the sinspawn