Typical, mutters Jamila, folding her arms but smirking in spite of herself, Even when he’s late, Ashasar knows how to make an entrance. Or should I say, especially when he’s late.
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On Kokoyuki's fifth attempt at spinning the wrong direction, Jamila sighs. She reaches into the well, grabs the fox's head and twists him widdershins — the momentum grants a +2 circumstance bonus, retroactively changing the 13 to a 15! Kokoyuki vanishes.
Back to our work. Reuniting Azure with their palette bag should close the rift. However, a ritual must be composed to facilitate the closure. I will remain here, and prepare.
Is it gambling when you never lose? Falbin blinks at her like a toad, and hands over 150GP. She taps Kahru on the shoulder. I'll collect your gold later if you don't have it now.
Jamila says something in Frog. Speak with Animals: The chicken's stringy; the bear-man's fat isn't marbled — run away, little one, your papa's plan is garbled!
With a feel for the rudimentary rhythm of the conversation, Jamila begins translating in real time. She uses two voices: one falsetto, the other baratone. Pfffphht! This song is grimy!
Oh Da: I want to eat a squirming roach!
But Da, I want to feel that thorax spurt!
But Da, they seem to me quite underripe!
But da, these people fill me with disgust!
But Da, they seem to hold us in contempt!
Jamila gives the party a glare, and listens carefully.
They're having a… conversation! She casts a spell. A moment — I can translate.
A half-league mile per 72 hours, you say? She contemplates. According to Boffo the Maddening's Treatise on the Fey Fey (yes… he was a gnome), this rate is consistent with other recorded examples of "blooms" surrounding rifts to the First World. She raises her left index finger. Point to Jamila. The bird on her shoulder makes a noise, much like a quiet chuckle. Falbin pretends not to hear and hops about.
Three to one, Falbin.
Jamila blinks. Hmmm? I drifted away for a moment there, a strange droning noise that went on and on. She pauses to think. If you side with The Concordance, then you only need ante the same. I'm sure you have theories, and you should be willing to back them up with a little risk. A scroll of Elemental Speech to the Pathfinder who can prove me wrong — else, pay me fifty gold.
And I rarely lose. She crosses the glade and shakes the gnome's hand. A hundred-fifty it is.
As the group meanders to the South Gate, Kokoyuki, Kahru and Eugressia somehow find themselves strolling along behind the others along with Jamila, just beyond earshot. Concordance Faction: As I mentioned, Ashasar sent me here. While I am happy to sing the virtues of the Concordance to new Pathfinders, there's more at stake. Now that our our faction is settling in on this plane, Ashasar craves knowledge about the elements that form this world’s atmosphere. Jamila turns to Eugressia. Do you empathize with this quest for knowledge, Eugressia? As a janni, I am quite at home here on the Material Plane. Ashasar claims that to other natives of the Elemental Planes, the seasons themselves are a symphony of mystery. Are they mysterious to you as well? Do you also wish to learn more? She pauses, recollecting her thoughts after this digression. Sublime as these seasons may be, a strange region of misplaced summertime promises insight for us — especially if a planar portal is involved. Ashasar wishes you to recover items pertaining to the four seasons. He’s very hands-on and he prefers physical evidence to mere theories — I tend to agree. After all, the harmony this of cool Autumn breeze and this warm morning light on our faces, and the smell of honey and sausages, is something that can't quite be captured in a book. I digress. This mission is a chance for you to impress Ashasar. She turns once again to Eugressia. Perhaps it is also an opportunity for you to — how did you say it? — to "get used to the Material Plane." After answering any questions, she walks ahead and rejoins the group.
I hope you don’t mind, but I will accompany you. An extra pair of eyes can’t hurt… rifts can sometimes be hard to spot, after all. Falbin splutters. Are we ready to depart?
As Oiur noted, the forest is near to the First World — a delicate balance. If something were to upset this natural equilibrium, a rift could open. Falbin rolls his eyes, and sighs very loudly. Jamila pointedly ignores him.
Jamila cuts in. That isn't cogent! I told you, this pocket of summertime is likely a planar rift. Nevertheless, the first step is to investigate!
Jamila gives Eugressia a infinitesimal bow. Eugressia Biogon. I apologize to you that I am here and not Ashasar himself; his new duties with the Pathfinders find him full of duty and cares. That said, it's a pleasure to see you… again. I hope to know you better this time around. She considers Eugressia's question and her eyes wander away, to the South. I've been here, for the most part, a long time now; it's as if I've lived several lives on the material plane. Likely, it is easier for a Janni to adjust than for a Sylph. To Oiur: Armun Kelisk… endless skies… these things make places like little Absalom seem even more quaint. At some point, I am sure you will visit.
She pauses when she sees Eugressia, and tilts her head in thought. You… you look vaguely familiar… I've seen you before. Do you hail from Armun Kelisk? Perhaps we've a mutual acquaintance or three, hmmm? Do you know Fairuza of the Azure Hall? Ashasar of the Concordance?
The stately humanoid frowns and steps back, but then leans in to peer closely at the herbs; she is clearly intrigued by a wager. Pah! Musty things; I'm no chef or herbalist — wager something better! In general, you must think bigger, Falbin! There’s more to this than your grudges. |