"Someone inform the rabble that their presence is unwelcome."
"Out of the way, please!"
The tiny bronze-colored bat-shaped Sprite flies upward and ..
With a mock sigh (cause no breath), Iesha lets her disguise leech away, then glares at the crowds in all her ghostly glory.
Though the crowd pays little heed to Alaznist, Torisen and Batman are able to direct the flow of citizens around the distracted construct and get it back to the merchant.
GUARD DUTY
The final construct has been mistaken for part of a noble’s retinue of their own constructs and is following them dutifully.
It only takes a few more minutes to convince the noble to relinquish the last construct. The merchant is grateful and impressed by your skills. He rewards you with 600 gp and two vials of oil of repulsion.
Torisen keeps his eyes peeled after dealing with the constructs.
Something strange is definitely going on, here.
With the situation with the Constructs resolved, Ranek goes right back to patrolling as he was before. A simple case of constructs accidentally going haywire, or intentional sabotage as a distraction by either the merchant or someone else? Why do I feel so suspicious?
Whatever the reason, Ranek would do his best to make sure he was ready for anything that tried to interfere with the Circle.
The PC simply enjoys the festival by attempting a DC 30 Will save. On a success, they feel invigorated, and gain a +1 circumstance bonus to all skill checks made in the following event.
Sir Batman carefully washes his hands of dust after all the construction work.
Smiles and bows to those present, the Champion of Mazludah seems determined to Relax during this downtime of dastardly doungs!
Iehsa drifted away from her companions again, now that their 'tasking' was completed. The reason for her existence is to stop the monsters, so she wanders the streets to find them.
Alaznist has always eschewed all but the most immediate and useful of divinations, but as she catches Ranek and Torrisen's eye, she can't help but wonder. Is this what a true master at work looks like?
Soon, another commotion nearby gets your attenion. Two wizardly students, who have been arguing over which kind of magic is more efficient at the creation of summoning rune hazards, have begun an illegal duel in the middle of the street. One of the two is the male human wizard Kespern Dantch, a student of the Runelord’s Academy who argues that summoning runes are best crafted via arcane magic, while the other is the female gnome druid Cilamali, a visitor from the Linnorm Kingdoms who argues that primal magic offers the superior foundation for these traps. Their spell slinging could cause collateral damage if you don't intervene.
Critical Success: Both spellcasters are impressed. The target spellcaster loses 2 DP, while the other loses 1 DP.
Success: The target spellcaster loses 1 DP.
Failure: No DP are lost or gained.
Critical Failure: The target spellcaster’s argument gains momentum, and they earn 1 DP.
"Look, son: Arcane runes are versatile and can accomplish many things, but you're closing your eyes to the possibilities if you are so adamant on using only one tradition of magic."
"Cimali, while Primal magic does offer a strong foundation for summoning rune traps, that doesn't make it superior. Different types of creatures respond best to different types of magic. Perhaps a construct summons is more appropriate to a trap than an animal of some kind, or perhaps a deific servitor is the superior choice - an option which requires a divine caster. Different traditions of magic offer different benefits, and it's important to not limit one's potential based solely on their preferred magical tradition."
The PC chooses Kespern or Cilamali as their target to debate, and then attempts a skill check to reduce that target’s current DP total by arguing against their stance. Against either wizard, a PC can attempt a DC 32 Intimidation check or a DC 35 Deception or Diplomacy check. Against Kespern, a PC can attempt a DC 30 Nature check to argue against his thesis, while against Cilamali, a PC can attempt a DC 30 Arcana check to do the same. Once one spellcaster is reduced to 0 DP, the PCs gain momentum; reduce all DCs for this activity by 2 as long as one spellcaster is at 0 DP.
Critical Success: Both spellcasters are impressed. The target spellcaster loses 2 DP, while the other loses 1 DP.
Success: The target spellcaster loses 1 DP.
Failure: No DP are lost or gained.
Critical Failure: The target spellcaster’s argument gains momentum, and they earn 1 DP.
Sir Batman smiles up at both spellcasters with a look of one not tolerant of children's squabbles.
Unfortunately, sometimes he forgets he is only 6" tall....
Iesha starts with male wizard and glares at him, her colorless eyes taking him in and then the houses around them "Home." she states, then her massive horrorscape of a sword appears in her hand. A clear indication of what he could face if he harmed them with his actions.
"Imbecilic." Alaznist sneers at Cilamali. [b]"Primal magic is useful in its ways, but in the creation of ordered, planned devastation? Nothing surpasses the true magic, even if limited to conjuration.
Though Batman fails to make an impression, both Ranek and Clifton make compelling arguments. Iesha's angry glare and Alaznist's detailed defense of arcane magic seem to land with both of the spellcasters, and their own arguments are starting to wane.
"This is a foolish thing to be arguing about, on such an important festival day. It's clear that Cilamil has valid points."
Sir Batman grins just prior to having a tantrum pretending to be both arguing parties but seen as children!
The tantrum seems real!
Iesha glared a little too long to have any additional effect on the male wizard.
"True life is not best created by arcane magics alone; it does not touch most readily on the soul, but do not make a fool of yourself by denying its true strengths."
Your debate skills are quite impressive, and soon both spellcasters concede their argument. They thank you for mediating and reward you with a scroll of energy aegis and two greater healing potions.
With the illegal magic duel resolved - and bystanders protected - Ranek went back to patrolling and keeping an eye out for trouble. He still had a feeling that something bad was going to happen - maybe he'd be proven wrong. He hoped so.
"Tempers are high. People must be very excited about this portal opening."
The PC simply enjoys the festival by attempting a DC 30 Will save. On a success, they feel invigorated, and gain a +1 circumstance bonus to all skill checks made in the following event.
Sir Batman is seen quenching his thirst from all the yelling, talking, words, words, word made up of words....
So hoarse....thirst....dry mouth... can't reach...the table...so tall....
"I would suspect subtle enchantment, but its mistress wishes the portal to succeed. Unless her game is subtler than even I can perceive..."
It seems that no matter how far she wanders through the city to serve her purpose, she ends up back with these four anytime trouble brews. Iesha finds that odd, but not enough for deep contemplate.
It isn't too long before something interrupts the festivities again. This time, a nervous guard named Kalden Dromit approaches for help. He hurriedly explains that an important guest, a provocative artist from Ustalav named Pelthia, has gone somewhere they shouldn’t—into the Nemteriak Art Gallery. Kalden explains further that Aun Nemteriak, the owner of the gallery, is in Absalom as part of a delegation from Xin-Eurythnia to help orchestrate the linking of the two cities via the Circle of Open Hands portal. Kalden admits that he works for Aun Nemteriak, but his only job was to stand vigil outside the entrance, noting that the gallery itself is well protected by numerous magical defenses while it remains closed.
It doesn’t take much further to get Kalden to shamefully admit he accepted a payment from Pelthia to look the other way so they could enter the gallery to take advantage of this opportunity to admire some of Aun’s collection. Pelthia promised to only spend thirty minutes inside, but now it’s been nearly two hours and Kalden fears that either Pelthia has become trapped (or worse), or that they had some sort of nefarious plan to rob the place.
Kalden admits he made a mistake, claiming that the bribe (a shimmering gemstone that is in fact an eye of apprehension) was too good to turn down and that he knew Pelthia by reputation and trusted them, and now he fears the worst. He has heard of your reputation and sought you out, hoping you can discretely help by entering the Art Gallery, finding Pelthia, and escorting them back out—all without making a scene so that Kalden can keep his job.
Ranek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Foolishness. Absolute foolishness. He found himself wondering if Xin-Eurythnia had some sort of lingering enchantment to increase peoples' greed, given its position as the seat of the Runelord of Greed's power. More study would be required.
Looking at Kalden, he said, "Kalden, tell me everything you know about the magical defenses within the museum so that we know what to expect if we go in there."
Kalden gives you a rundown of the art gallery's floor plan and what he knows of the traps within. He says that Pelthia seemed particularly keen on visiting a display of Ustalavic paintings in the gallery’s east wing. The outer chambers feature several simple, non-lethal traps. The entrance to the east wing is warded by magical paintings of artists that, when triggered, attempt to petrify intruders by transforming them into stone statues. Past them are defensive constructs built to resemble dancing aristocrats, and finally there is a trap designed to trap would-be thieves in a complex clockwork cage.
"We'll keep our eyes peeled for the traps. Hopefully the interloper just got himself petrified, and not bludgeoned to death by constructs," Torisen offers.
"What is the best way to avoid triggering the paintings? Can we simply avoid looking at them, or would other precautions have to be taken?"
Iesha looks to the two wizards with a slight frown, clearly wanting to say Why do we care, but not knowing how to bring that up without sounding unfeeling, which is exactly what one would expect an undead spirit of vengeance to sound of course.
So the human illusioned version of herself simply watches the others and waits.
"Why do we care about this treacher's cheaply bought vigilance? Even supposing a particular concern for this one artist's life, it seems quite likely that the traps have already served their purpose and restrained them."
Sir Batman frowns at the disinterested infectious in his company.
Perhaps our Host would simply think it a swell idea for us to prevent any disturbances during Her grand opening.
The Champion of Mazludah then looks at Kalden sharply.
Unless this is a ruse by them cultists to sweep us out of the way.
"You can either avoid looking at the paintings or disable them through magical means," Kalden says to Ranek. He looks worried as Alaznist questions why they should bother helping, and he raises his hands at Batman's implication that this might be a ruse. "Cultists? I don't know about any cultists. I just don't want to get fired!" he insists.
Sir Batman frowns at the potential cultists shananagins allowance tangent's worried face.
How's your resume looking? Is it current?
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before accepting a bribe to let someone into the museum." Ranek no longer thought the person who went in might have a connection to the cult, so he was no longer concerned.
Dejected, Kalden walks off with slumped shoulders. Later, you hear that the city guard got involved to rescue Pelthia from the gallery. Some damage was done to the building in the process, no doubt ensuring that Kalden will lose his job.
***
There are no more distractions for the rest of the festival. As the sun sets, festivalgoers head toward Temple Plaza, gathering in a ring around the plaza’s boundaries while keeping the central area open—here, the large, colorful tent that’s obscured the Circle of Open Hands portal is scheduled to come down as Queen Sorshen activates the permanent magical link between Xin-Eurythnia and Absalom. Thanks to your warnings, the queen has stationed extra security around the tent in the form of five ffrost giant guards.
The crowd applauds as Queen Sorshen appears in the air, flying above the tent. She speaks to the gathered crowd in a voice magically augmented so that all can hear and understand in their native languages.
“Welcome, citizens of Xin-Eurythnia and honored guests alike! Thank you for graciously attending the inaugural activation of the Circle of Open Hands, the key to Xin-Eurythnia’s next step in becoming better friends and allies to the world. Behold our future!”
With that, she reaches down to grasp the highest flapping banner above the tent, then rises upward swiftly into the air, pulling the entire tent up and off the ground in one fluid motion. The tent fades away as mist in a high wind, revealing the Circle of Open Hand portal at the plaza’s center—an enormous circular archway nearly forty feet in diameter. Its intricate frame of metal and stone is shaped to resemble multiple figures of different ancestries holding their hands out to one another. The pair at the very top smile radiantly as they clasp hands held high in an arch above the portal below—these two figures depict Queen Sorshen and the goddess Nocticula.
Cheers resound at the reveal. Sorshen smiles at the enthusiasm and floats back down when suddenly, the earth rumbles. Before anyone can react, three simultaneous events occur in rapid succession:
• A rippling wave of energy washes over the entire region, bringing with it a moment of sharp pain. This does no lasting damage, but Alaznist realizes that this wave of energy was some sort of immense interdimensional shock wave.
• High up near the peak of Mhar Massif above the city, Karzoug’s carved face cracks and begins to crumble, tumbling down the mountainside. The thunderous sound of the landslide hits the city a few seconds later. The landslide smashes into the Spires of Xin-Shalast and destroys the Pinnacle of Avarice, once Karzoug’s palace, creating a blinding flash of magical energy that, for a moment, lights the entire city up as if it were high noon.
• A spiderweb of fractures radiates outward across Temple Plaza from the center, where the Circle of Open Hands portal stands. A moment later, a sinkhole opens in the middle of the plaza, consuming the portal with a roar as the forty-foot-tall structure collapses into the newly formed fifty-foot-diameter pit. From below, a deafening trumpeting sound rises up.
Screams rip through the gathered crowd as people panic and begin to flee Temple Plaza, while Sorshen, who hadn’t quite touched down, now floats over a vast pit. As plumes of dust and smoke rise up around her, the hazy image of a vast elephantine shape with glowing violet eyes and six immense tusks looms over the plaza. Ranek and Torisen get a better glimpse of the figure through the smoke, and they recognize it as the legendary Oliphaunt of Jandelay, a monstrous creature said to visit worlds on the eves of their destruction. Floating in the air before the shape, right between those eyes, is a humanoid shape that Ranek quickly identifies as none other than Runelord Xanderghul—or at least, a realistic illusion of him!
Sorshen gasps as she looks upward, then cries out, “You? How can it be you?” before a torrential wind vacuum threatens to pull much of northern Xin-Eurythnia into the depths. Sorshen throws wide her arms to counter this potent magic, and a moment later the wind lessens… then draws the elephantine shape, its humanoid attendant, and Sorshen herself down into the depths. A moment later, the sound of an impossibly large set of doors slamming shut sends another tremor through the city.
The blast of wind ceases as quickly as it came, and the air fills with the people’s screams and distant rumbling of the immense landslide at the peak of Mhar Massif. Much closer to you, the sonorous shrieks of two immense birdlike monstrosities ring out as the creatures surge up and out of the pit, landing along the edge on seven long spindly legs. The fifty-foot-tall avians shriek again, and a wave of terror grips you!
"Oh, for the love of Acavna..." Torisen shivers in the shadow os the giant birds as he slides toward the pit.
He casts fly on himself and zips up off the ground to hover 25 feet over the ground.
Frost Giant
The guard roars toward the threat, striding up to one of the birds, swinging at it, and then using its icy breath.
for
Iesha is caught unaware by the thundering wings of towering birds. Even incorporeal beings get distracted by debris flying through them.
Another slight pause crosses her face as a small quiver stirs in her unbeating chest... fear? That makes little sense to the ghost woman, but its there. She frowns. Given this... aberration, Iesha lets at the smallest of unbreathing sighs. Her massive blade flickers into her hand, the unsettling flicker covers her as well, as she screams her anger at the nearest enemy.
All while a frost giant rushes to end the threat before little people like the floating monochromatic woman need to worry their pretty heads over, though he might have been a tad distracted after a slight look into the fathomless dark in her eyes, or well it could have been the blood cuddling scream she just made as well.
for
DC 28 basic Reflex, also immobilized on a failure
Savage joy contorts Alaznist's features as she sees Karzoug's face tumble into dust, hiding whatever instinct may have struck her as Sorshen falls as well. Yet there is no disguising the hatred that fills her eyes as she sees the shadow of the Oliphaunt answering another's call. It was supposed to be mine!
Wind may toss her about, but Alaznist's will cannot be so easily bowed. She funnels haste into her limbs, quickly rising and wrapping the energy around herself in an inexorable cascade of energy.
One of the giants rushes forward, with axes and frozen mist trying to assail both of the monstrosities towering over her.
Sir Batman proudly positioned himself in the front of the attendees. The 6" tall Sprite stands on his tiptoes to better see the fancy oval thingy.
Suddenly as the rippling wave of energy washes over the entire region, bringing with it a moment of sharp pain, the Champion of Mazludah looks about suspiciously for the one who most likely had tacos for lunch....
Seconds later (not entirely convinced it wasn't that lady in the blue sash) the bronze-colored bat-shaped Sprite blinks repeatedly looking at the landslide coming closer....
Then the ground rumbles, folks begin to tumble and the Sprite watches the fancy oval thingy sink, sink, sink....
Is that part of the fancy magicks? Wizards are so weird.
Sir Batman (beginning to get suspicious) bellows aloud!
[bigger[/b] Another Wizard! Ain't we got enough of them![/b][/bigger]
Then the sonorous shrieks of two immense birdlike monstrosities ring out as the creatures surge up and out of the pit, landing along the edge on seven long spindly legs.
The fifty-foot-tall avians seem not to be part of the entertainment!
I've fought bigger!
Ranek stood in the crowd, watching carefully as Sorshen unveiled the Circle. It was a very impressive bit of artistry.
The sudden burst of energy, causing a brief flash of pain, was the first sign something was wrong. Ranek recovered as quickly as he could, attempting to spring into action, before the rumble of an avalanche reached his ears, and Mhar Massif began to crumble. The Pinnacle of Avarice gets destroyed - before he'd gotten to study it - and then cracks spiderweb across the ground as the Circle of Open Hands falls into a giant pit.
His eyes widen as he sees the images in the pit. "The Oliphaunt of Jandelay!? And Xanderghul!"
He feels a moment of contempt for Sorshen at her surprise - We warned her about him! - as the wind suddenly pulls him towards the pit.
Falling from the wind he shakes his head and watches as Sorshen is pulled into the pit. The slamming of the door makes him think she's been pulled away. Then the two birds arrive.
The fear imposed by the birds isn't too detrimental to him. Still, he needs mobility. Casting fly, he moves up into the air to get off the ground in case it crumbles further.
The Frost Giant rushes towards the birds, flanking with another, exhaling its freezing breath over them, and then swings its greataxe at the pair.
Alaznist gets to her feet and hastens herself, while Ranek and Torisen both take to the air. Iesha's angry shriek leaves one of the giant birds unsettled as she blurs her form. Four of the frost giant guards rush into melee with the towering monsters, but only one manages to land a hit with his axe, and the blow is blunted by the creature's mythic resistance. The giants' chilly exhalations don't harm the birds, though one is immobilized by the ice that forms around its legs.
With trumpeting shrieks, the monsters attack the frost giants. They rip and tear at the giant who landed his hit, shredding him into bloody chunks! The injured bird's axe wound quickly heals before your eyes!
Ranek desperately racked his brain, trying to figure out what these bird creatures were. The way they tore one of the frost giants apart and resisted the frost giants' axes showed they were incredibly dangerous. He struggled to figure out what they were, he had no idea, when a flash of insight came through, and the vague outlines of Runelord Chalsardra appeared around him. A thought - not his own - appeared in his mind, .....
Ranek called out, "These are Erons of Jandelay! They rarely leave the plane of Jandelay, where they typically remove non-native creatures and things. They cannot be disesed, poisoned, or affected with mental or death magic. Worse, they resist acid, cold, fire, piercing, and slashing weapons, as well as those from creatures that have not been infused with some form of otherworldly power. Hammers and the like are the best weapons to use against them!"
Having warned the others of what to strike them with - and what not to strike them with - he tried to weaken one of them with a spell.
The Frost Giant, hearing Ranek's words, releases one hand from its axe and tries to use its fist to strike the creature twice.
"This is why I had to fleshcraft better giants," Alaznist mutters darkly. "I don't suppose this would count as forswearing myself, since it's so temporary..." The doomed frost giant's skin erupts into dense scales, cushioning the blows just enough to help her survive them.
Still, we will run out of giants eventually. With a snap, Alaznist vanishes, darting forward towards the Erons as her ranseur reshapes itself into a wickedly beaked hammer.
Sir Batman watches as the Frost Giants distract the Big Birds of Spinal Tap.
The Champion of Mazludah Raises his Shield, Enters his Everstand Stance and...Strides into the injured Birds personal space!
Ooo! I was adventuring with Grandpa Nox way up North. He would have a delicious recipe for you!
The Frost Giant Strides to within 10' of 2 of the ZZTop inspirations, before bellowing frosty bits of chewed up icicles at them!
[one-action] (cold, primal) The frost giant breathes out a 15-foot cone of freezing moisture that quickly condenses into ice, dealing 4d6 cold damage. Each creature in the cone must attempt a DC 28 basic Reflex save. A creature that fails its save is also immobilized and takes 2d6 cold damage at the end of each of its turns until it gets free (Escape DC 28). The giant can't use Chill Breath again for 1d4 rounds.
It then takes a Wild Swing at the same deuce!
[one-action] The frost giant makes a single greataxe Strike and compares the attack roll result to the ACs of up to two foes within their reach. This counts as two attacks for the frost giant's multiple attack penalty
Torisen draws on some deep and mysterious well of power in an attempt to transmute one of the creatures into harmless stone.
As her scream dies down, the ghost shoots in jerking flickering, gone, closer, gone, closer, CLOSER, through the air until she is at the bird's head, where her horror shrouded blade cleaves to end it now.