| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Feeling good!
Updated character sheet is at home with my computer, but I am traveling until Sunday. I’ll wing it a bit if needed in combat now that we have our gear…
There was that gent who popped into the Recruitment thread to offer a dwarf archer. @Daria he said y'all had played together before, what do you think? From what I recall, he was an active, team player. Would be good in my opinion. Here is his alias from the game we played in: https://paizo.com/people/SnorriScionOfTharnhammer
I'd be happy with Spazmodeus! I could also adjust Daria if needed for the continuing campaign--I know many DM's have different adjudications on wild shape and may or may not want Herbalism to be in play.
"We need to figure out a way to detect any potential necrotic bombs, including penetrating any masking magic. If any of the pieces of the shield have been traded out, the bomb could be sitting out in plain sight at the War College," cautions Garret.
Noting Rosalind’s departure, Garret goes back to entertaining the veterans, this time regaling them with a fanciful tale of deceit, betrayal, and….?teeth?…under a skull-shaped moon.
Garret falls silent eventually and when the song is over. The solemn tune has put him in a contemplative mood, with the old songs of honor and loss and sacrifice resonating with him in a new way. He starts mentally composing a dirge for lost Roslar's Coffer as he wonders how he can help now with the current mission. Buying a round of drinks, he heads over to Ketra, Gandry, and the others.
Wandering over to the older woman, Garret starts to quietly sing harmony along with her wordless vocalizing. If his performance works, he will start with words, singing and chanting about ancient battles and noble sacrifices, honor and loyalty marking the best qualities of the Lastwall veterans.
Now a high ranking member of the Sarenrae priesthood with a relatively rare experience returned from the afterlife, Flint shares his story and faith with the worshippers at the Radiant Cathedral when he is in “port”, but he spends the majority of his time captaining the newly rebuilt and upgraded Torrent of Embers. Now that he can actually explore the Burning Mother and not just skim its surface, the brash Captain sets about exploring the vast array of new wonders hidden in the solar plasma! This, of course, means working closely with the DCI and providing transport to their scientists, his close friends who helped him save the Archipelago, and members of other cultures within the sun as they take their place among the free peoples of the Burning Mother! Accepting his divine mission to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no one has gone before, Flint nevertheless keeps out a sharp watch for two opportunities: 1) any sign of Legion aggression or instability in the nascent intra-Solar alliance growing, and 2) a place—perhaps near Ezrod—of surpassing fiery beauty balanced with the dark, cooling barrier that represents the yin and yang necessary for life to thrive. I mean, if he is going to propose, it needs to be something suitably epic and symbolic, right?
Indeed, the taller person helping with the Mantle is none other than Kingr-General Halaina Lymikin, herself clad in a very similar cloak. Flint walks up and pulls out a an exquisite silvery chain with clasps on either end. He fastens it to the mantle over Bel’s chest, completing the outfit. As he fastens the Sacred Seal and backs away with a smile and a bow, the rest of Belmarniss’ outfit transforms with Iomedae’s religious iconography befitting her station. Flint’s smile grows as he looks at Bel with pride and love.
Sorry for your loss.
I think we should make sure the NpC’s who helped us along the way are well-taken care of. I was thinking Meepo the policeman and many others, but it has been a long time…
Ulfric notices the moment Flint decides, though his friend himself does not yet realize it. One particular voice breaks through, resonating across the vastness of space and time. Knowing his friend plans to depart as the solarian mouths the name 'Belmarniss', the nordic hero smiles and says, "Go back to her, lad. We'll be here waiting when your destiny is complete." His form fading and becoming immaterial in the Elysian Fields, Flint looks back at his hunting companions, saying, "I shall rejoin you soon enough, heroes of legend--and there'd better be freshly-roasted stag waiting for me!" A surge of ineffable radiance suffuses Flint's mortal coil, growing in power until it suddenly retracts inside his body. Eyes opening slowly and lips parting to take in a first breath, he looks up lovingly at Bel and smiles, saying, "How could I ever say no to you, my love? Eternity itself cannot separate us." Realizing the crowd gathered around them, Flint looks gratefully to the Grand Cleric and levers himself up to a seated position, gently taking Belmarniss' hand and announcing, "Thank you all for calling me back. I shall endeavor to be worthy of your efforts."
“Good hunt today,” sighs Flint contentedly, sitting around the fire with a handful of other warriors. The sky above was dotted with uncountable stars, shining a serene light over the open plain at night. ”Aye, the stag led us on a good chase today,” replies Ulfric, a husky Nordic warrior with whom Flint had hunted these past few days. The proof of their successful hunt roasted on a spit over the fire, crackling as the juices dropped in to the fire, the scent of the cooking meat wafting over the group and making Flint’s stomach rumble. One of the stars above grew brighter, its light drawing his attention. There was something…familiar…about its radiance. Softly, he hears a voice beckoning from the distant star, and a memory tickles his mind. The Burning Mother, the Radiant Cathedral, a life and death struggle to save whole civilizations, both familiar and heretofore unknown…these memories floated past in his mind as if lived by another, narrated by a familiar voice. Flint stands and looks up at the star. It seemed closer than before, and he recalls more of his mortal life, suddenly recognizing the voice as that of High Priestess Novaheart, who led the yearly high holy services in the Radiant Cathedral he attended as a youth. Other voices join the high priestess, drifting down from the star above…
Suddenly a surge of power ripples through the fabric of reality, echoing through all the planes where mortal and immortal dwell. Flint feels a surge of concern for the companions he left behind, but also an indwelling peace that was at once all-encompassing and impossible to properly describe. As the energy ebbs, Flint’s vision clears and he is in an endless expanse of pristine natural beauty, outshone only by the radiant face of a kindly woman approaching from the clouds. Falling down on his face in reverence, Flint hears, ”Arise and take my hands, holy warrior. You have served me well and are wholly worthy of the paradise awaiting you.” Ever the dutiful priest, Flint arises, noticing without alarm that his body is now suffused with photonic radiance that before only dwelt inside him. Touching the Burning Mother’s hands, he sees fresh injuries—a dark stain on the right palm and a matching one on the back of her left hand. In his mind’s eye, he sees his God’s right hand crushing the upstart Efreeti queen, and in her left he sees cushioned and protected from the incomprehensible explosion a minuscule starship—the Torrent of Embers! ”Rest easy, noble one. Your friends are safe, your world is rescued, and your work is complete. Enter my rest with joy.” And just like that, Flint smiles gratefully at her and moves off to meet the figures in the distance, heroes of the past who have done their part to save the world in ages past. Yet a single iridescent tear falls from his eye, a memento to the sadness of what might have been yet done, had he survived to continue his life among his friends.
It truly has been amazing! Heroic sacrifice and all—and we won! Once more around the ‘verse before we hang up out spurs? Yes please!
”I’m sorry, we have been under a lot of stress lately, and we can only see a deadly threat and a vulnerable populace, with most of us totally unfamiliar with your city,” starts Garret. ”I thank you for the supplies, and we could also perhaps use your help as we purchase useful items with our own funds,” he suggests, ”As well as perhaps some formal way of identifying ourselves as deputized authorities.” ”If you have someone who can assign to us to help us find our way in the city—or perhaps a city map—that would be useful as well. Maybe even a letter of introduction to Gandry so he knows we are not merely frivolous festival attendees,” he adds. ”There is something of a more—delicate nature as well,” Garret mentions, pulling her aside if she allows and speaking in low tones about their suspicions of the undue influence of the Lord Commander’s advisor, even to imprisoning Wallace, his son.
"Indeed, you are right, Scramsax, unless you have a permanent teleportation circle or an item recently taken from a place, there is a chance to teleport off-target. Realize that you can also take us with you -- or a number of nearby willing creatures up to...8, I believe. Think carefully before you use this power," says Gunnar, a bit worried about the power now in the flighty halfling's grubby little hands. "I worry that time is passing and we are not making progress towards defeating the winter hag and whatever icy menagerie she has," adds the wizard, looking to the others experimenting with their new magic items. "We should leave soon." he concludes.
Looking up in alarm, Gunnar says, "Please tell me that one doesn't talk aloud. I don't know that I can handle any more drama today..."
Elsewhere: Blissfully unaware of the dire events in the mortal realm, Flint slowly drifts forward into the ever-brightening light, though somehow his eyes adjust even faster! His vision is starting to clear and he can make out shapes, including one large central one with arms stretched open wide in welcome. At peace, Flint continues to drift forward, then…something happens, behind him.
A deific ping far behind him grabs the attention of all, and the being’s head turns aside. In his mind, Flint hears, ”Hold please,” as his forward progress stops. He can swear he hears the same music played in the lifts at the Radiant Cathedral, and he starts humming along, content for the moment even if some curiosity begins to creep in.
Quote: “ Finally, you come to the bracer. You ready yourself for whatever odd personality or essence that might reside within the ancient item. But to your surprise the beautifully wrought item appears to be free of such manifestations. But it is not without power. Letting the ritual perform its work you discover its properties in blissful peace and quiet. Bracers of the Deft Defender: +3 to the wearer's AC. The bearer can do one of the following action up to three times each day.
Gunnar moves over to Scramsax and says, ”Thank you for sacrificing your paints. I know it was a difficult choice, and I appreciate it. This item should allow you to occasionally paint with your imagination, as well as protect you somewhat from harm. Finally, it will be good for me—I can’t always go diving after you to teleport you to safety, but this bracer can be with you.” The Dwarven wizard gives Scramsax the details of the bracer as best he knows them.
”Indeed, you are most kind Lodgemistress Zognoss. We were hoping to rest tonight after raising the warning, then try and reprovision tomorrow before reporting to the temple for our discussion with the church authorities,” Garret says. He adds with a hint of a smile, ”We have found some unusual items that we are looking to sell to finance our refitting—and your help and kind offering of hospitality surely inclines us to give you first crack at whatever items you might find interesting.”
Wow!
Taking pity on Luthael surrounded by the ladies, Gunnar goes over and clasps him on the shoulder, saying gruffly, ”That’s enough mooning about. Let’s get to work,” pulling him over to the area where they need to work for the river be restored.
Sorry I am running a bit slow on postings. I am traveling and out of my usual routine.
”In his ravings, Quietus spoke of the ‘Master of the Whispering Way’, and the arcane cataclysm that destroyed our town was a mixture of necrotic and radiant energy. The Fetoring Maw that encased us in a poisonous shell was an additional impediment,” says Garret. “As far as the Knights and the Church, they have already been told. Whether they will act quickly enough to forestall a catastrophe, we do not know. They do seem to ponder and verify quite a lot, and by the time they decide to take us seriously it may be too late,” he adds.
You realize Gunnar dove into a mass of tentacles to save her from drowning, risking his own life and saving her with his magic. Perhaps one cataclysmic larceny spree per day would be a good limit.
Stumbling out of the muck just ahead of the cave-in, Gunnar asks, ”Scramsax, can you ever go scouting without everything going sideways?”
Rising up once more Flint slashes with his solar scimitar at the evil General Khaim, but his blade passes through with no effect, though it glows more brightly than ever before. Only then does Flint see his body, crushed and broken on the ground. Realization hits him hard even as the sun’s plasma grows brighter and the scene before him begins to fade. Flint smiles sadly and reaches out an insubstantial hand towards Belmarniss as the scene before him fades into a welcoming golden light.
There are a few med serums on Flint's person, if Uzmat thinks of that. Though even if he gets up with a handful of hp and no RP, Flint is unlikely to be able to get an attack off before being sliced up...
Flint moves over to the shredding form of Uzmat and intones, "Not on my watch. Sarenrae, grant us your ultimate healing!" As the Captain focuses, the blazing aura around him drains from him in golden tendrils, gathering the shredding form of the noble fire elemental back together, denying the specter of death itself! Flint is left totally unattuned, looking drained and haggard by his channeling of the massive radiant energy...but Uzmat has been knit back together, if only just.
"Get to cover!" Flint urges to the barely integrated Uzmat.
Quietly to Uzmat, Flint says, ”Go to the body of Nurleth and grab one of the hag’s cloaks she took. They have the power to dispel invisibility. Reveal our foe, then find some cover that you may preserve your own life.” Calling upon his connection to Sarenrae and the power of the sun, Flint says, ”Burning Mother, your sons have need of you. Bless us as we fight for the lives of all your children!” Pulling from his last reservoir of power, Flint heals himself and ends his copious bleeding, then channels some of that healing into Ordyt!
( plus Flint’s 36 hp after bleed plus 36 hp healing; total divided by two and sent to Flint and Ordyt equally) ”Get up, brother. It’s time to finish this,” Flint says as Ordyt awakens.
Trying to parse the elapsed time, Garret says, ”The Day of Remembrance at Roslar’s Cofffer was nearly a month ago, but we destroyed the hand that delivered the bomb—a man named Quietus—a mere eleven days ago. Some of our number split off to warn the border towns as we traveled here, but you are the first one in the city we have spoken to yet of the tragedy. The true force behind the attack is known to us as the Master of the Whispering Way, though Quietus said more as he mocked us—I cannot recall it all right now.” Thinking for a moment, Garret adds, ”There was a letter where the master was called ‘Great Lord’ and a directive to bring the threat to Vigil from someone who signed an initial ‘Y’. We came as quickly as we could.”
Wow! Thanks for the haste and the blessing of the dice!
Reeling from the massive attack, Flint puts two and two together, deciding to ignore the cyborg and focus on the true enemy. "Focus attacks on the White Khaim," he grunts through the comms to his allies. Carefully stepping out of the flank and putting a solid wall at his back, he slashes hard at the White Khaim, praying that the Burning Mother guides his hand!
Nodding in agreement with Belmarniss’ words, Flint adds, ”The damage you have done to our home and our people has been great in your feckless pursuit of godhood for you leader! You have conquered and enslaved, murdered and tortured—all to serve your selfish goals!” Drawing his blade and preparing for combat, Flint resolutely stands, intoning, ”How much more suffering will you cause if you succeed? NO! We will stop you! Your path of wickedness ends here!”
Returning the kiss enthusiastically, Flint continues on the (probably) suicide mission with a smile on his face.
Garret replies, ”I am more interested in what you do with your powers than how you acquire them—we are traveling with an interesting assortment of people and spirits already. From what I can tell, you have been absolutely crucial to our survival against the encroaching evil, so as far as I am concerned you are more than welcome.”
Offer a prayer of thanks, Garret takes a deep breath as the sunlight returns and smiles radiantly—for what seems the first time in a long time. ”Nicely done! Let’s make sure we have distributed the magical items for best effect and get on the road,” says Garret, adding, ”I am not sure how we have survived so far through this mess, but I will attribute it to divine providence. Thank you all for helping us achieve this victory against the forces of evil that destroyed my home.” Suddenly thinking of something, Garret says, ”Do you think with the power of the Fetoring Maw broken, that bear might have recovered?”
Sighing, Gunner answers, ”All too often,” as he takes a deep breath and prepares to squeeze down the tight tunnel.
With healing potion in one hand, Garret peeks out and sees the Nekomata fleeing. Emboldened a bit, he steps out far enough to see Quietus through the door and evokes another burst of radiance on his position, trying to light him up for those who can't see the invisible foe.
”Try not to get hurt,” says Gunnar patting Scramsax on the shoulder. A few words of magic later, and now Scramsax can fly. ”I can’t fit in there to go help you if you get in trouble,” he says, “So be careful fetching your…uh…hardware.”
Just planning on taking the one -- Broken Cycle. It reflects Flint's choice already taken to only use Photon attunement.
Gunnar’s would probably be Thunderstruck.
Sorry for the delay. If there isn’t anything we can give them, Flint will give them an ultimatum. That okay?
Garret immediately begins casting an offensive spell, not caring for the murderer’s posturing!
Not sure what is going on, Flint tenses at the name Belmarniss speaks, ”What is going on here?” he demands.
Okay, that was hard to type, but I had to do the natural 1 justice.
With no threat visible (or invisible), Gunnar settles down for the night. Preparing his spells in the morning, he listens to the conversation with a smile.
”We all have skills that might surprise others, whether we be labeled as thief or not—but I have ever found Scramsax to be trustworthy. It is good to have you back, Raseri,” says Gunnar. ”Shall we make plans to assault this Hag and her ice minions now?” he asks, looking to their guide to resume their interrupted conversation from last night. |