The attendant pulled away from Cairee. She looked confused, affronted, vulnerable. She leaned towards Cairee, "What do you know about it." It sounded more like an accusation than a question.
She backed away two steps. She looked like someone teetering on an idea. Allissette kept walking like she didn't know her attendant wasn't with her.
The attendant stepped back towards Cairree and in a rash whisper, "If you want to help Her … lose." The attendant's face switched to instant regret.
Allissette (from a distance and continuing to walk away), "Manon Claircourbeau, what has you so distracted that you are not by my side." It was not a question. The attendant looked at the ground and hustled after her.
~
During the Fight - Zahra
Zahra al Asmar wrote:
"Your Lord Badrelow has had an impressive showing." She looked around and asked, "Taking a break from the rest of your team?""Looks like the house is winning in more ways than one, even though Lord Badrelow and Tymythy have held their own nicely."
Zahra caught Prince Keone in a thousand mile stare. Her addressing him woke him out of it and he looked over. "Well, what a bright enemy do I have here. Sorry, I'm being facetious. Not a true enemy, just a competitor. I'm lucky to be faced with such a good one. The Blackbirds have been the surprise of the party. It's one thing to get through these games alive. It's quite another fr me to survive better than you. You task me."
He looked back to Lord Badrelow, "LORD Badrelow is impressive indeed. He's bastardly, brutish, a heartless aristocrat, and very, very impressive. You aren't announced, are you? Have you ever been introduced at court? You have the air of someone who has. Please, take a turn with me." He began to walk counter-clockwise around the lower stands. He glanced frequently at what was happening in the arena.
"Surely you've marked this display? This isn't a showcase. Like any court, there are intrigues going on here. My guess is that enough has happened and …" He gestures towards Nadj with a slight nod and then towards Voltus. "they are worried about looking vulnerable. This is a lure. Invite the strongest and most brash fighters in and then smack them down. Voltus is trying to make the veteran fighters look small."
"I'm afraid your Tymythy is making the smack-down look a whole lot more like a true contest. But then again, he didn't rush in to fight. He was volunteered." Keone smiled coyly.
~
That's when it happened …
~
During the Fight - Tymythy
Voltus was remarkable. His reflexes were as fast as Tymythy had ever seen. Voltus may not have been prepared for it but he moved cleanly away from Tymythy's iron ring just the same.
As the young spear-dancer brought his weapon down, he felt it. It was like hitting rock. Under the flesh there was such strength that Voltus (without exageration) must be able to rival an angry rhinoceros. There was a crack and it took a half-second before Tymythy realized it was the shaft of his spear.
Tymythy's borrowed spear now has the broken condition: –2 penalty on attack and damage rolls. Such weapons only score a critical hit on a natural 20 and only deal ×2 damage on a confirmed critical hit.
Most of the audience didn't realize what they were seeing. They saw the member of the Black Birds rush in, tag-team Voltus using Badrelow as a distraction, spin and go for the seneschal's hand. Surely with how heroic Voltus seemed, this young warrior must be the villain.
But the warriors in the crowd and the war-wise knew differently. They could see a young man coming into his craft. They could see the battle dance performed to the place where both speed and control are worked to their uttermost when they should be confounding each other. Any one of them knew that a new master had just shown themselves, truly, and for the first time.
It worked. Tymythy's attack slid across Voltus knuckles and hit the short spear. The spear came free from the hand that held it and spun end-over-end until it stuck in the sand five feet away.
The crowd hushed with a quiet disappointment but 'the few' knew. The battle-wise and the truly tested knew something remarkable had just occurred.
In the distance, Batbayar roared.
~
During the Fight - Dounia
Dounia Mehar Mehek Ghali wrote:
… She watched carefully, committing every move to memory. The time to dance wasn't now, but it might be in the future. And besides, Cairee had told them to watch for clues or hints or other important things. It was time to do as she'd been bade.
It was almost impossible to follow but Dounia did. She saw the physical cost, the muscles strain, Tymythy's ploy and then his precision in landing the blow on Voltus hand. She saw Badrelow take a step back, set off balance by this sudden show of excellence. Maybe she saw the lord question himself, his underestimation of Tymythy's skill and the overestimation of his own position on the field. She certainly saw his change of momentum as he took the moment of Voltus' disarming to make his move.
Beyond the fight, on the oposite side of the arena, mid-bowl, Dounia also noticed Candor sitting alone. The rest of her team was higher up in the stands as she seemed troubled and not registering the combat ahead.
Candor noticed Dounia's gaze and nodded slightly. A flutter tickled Dounia's gut. The feeling of the evening before a caper. Candor looked south and Dounia could see to whom. Marie of Glaemorgan was with her team, the Adherents. The three shared a look as Marie made a 'play-it-cool' gesture with her hand and looked away.
End of round 8
Badrelow moved in. He raised his spear and spoke. Tymythy and Voltus were close enough to hear, and Dounia perceptive enough.
What Badrelow said - translated by the magic of Gossamer House:
"A bane on the heathen who does not recognize my holy right."
The spear pierced the outside flesh of the seneschal's left arm so that it came through a three inch section of skin, and was quickly pulled free. Voltus called out in pain.
Badrelow, "Yeild!"
~
Keone was next to Zahra, "Oh, by the Queen of the Light." His jaw went slack.
On the eastern castle, Hallwn's retinue had moved to the edge near the stands and were watching silently.
Chrizdoff stared with concern, "A talon to Badrelow."
Round 9
Voltus inhaled. Dropped to a low stance and formed his left hand into a fist. His right foot dug into the sand as he straightened out his body. He smashed through Tymythy's target. The Seneschal's fist stopped at his sternum and Tymythy could feel it there, hard as a stone.
Chrizdoff, "Tymythy s out of the match!"
Voltus straightened out and swept in a backwards arc with his right leg. He only barely hooked the back of Barelow's right knee but it was enough to knock the lord prone.
Badrelow tried to stand but, as he was almost up, he exposed himself and Voltus struck him down again.
The final rounds
Voltus seemed to be playing with Badrelow and kept it up for some time. Several exchanges went by as the seneschal fell into his stance and dodged or redirected everything the lord could send at him. Voltus had regained his calm while Badrelow was becoming more and more frustrated, red faced, and clumsy.
Members of the crowd began yelling, "FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM!"
Finally, after another moment of Badrelow being on his backside in the sand, Voltus retrieved his spear. As Badrelow stood Voltus threw it dead centre in the target. The wooden plaque shattered and the spear found a spot beyond it in Badrelow's leather smock. The lord rushed to pull it off and set it to one side. The spear just poking through the end and a little trickle of blood on his chest.
Most of the crowd went wild.
As Voltus went to the lake the waters bubbled up and carried the laurel to him. He looked to the eastern castle and bowed to Hallwn,
I didn't intend it but when I created the zodiac signs for this world (more like the Sheng Xiao or Chinese zodiac) I did it a little haphazard. The year you're playing in is 997. I rolled dice to see what year it is and got the year of the stag (Lautslest the pathfinder).
I traced everyones age back to their birth year and this happened:
Dounia was born in the year of the Weaver (hmm, the birds call her little worm fingers for her lock picking skills)
Zahra was born in the year of the Stag (the way-finder, ok, maybe not as on the nose)
Cairee was born in the year of the wolf (the pack keeper, the sign for family. Hmm...)
Tymythy is the most on the nose. Born in the year of Kinig'hos the hunter, the protector sign.
- Liturgical time or eastern prayer hour time much like Christian Liturgical hours
- The 24 Song hours of the west
and
- Rustic time of day (farmers in most lands would use the very general times of: witching, smallhours, dawn, morning, midmorn, noon, afternoon, brillig, dusk, night)
In this section of the world you only have to worry about song hours
I don't like saying four o'clock. It takes me out of the game but I like the song hours. They are an easy translation.
-
I'm trying to complete a reference pdf for time.
There are four seasons (Pani or ice; Malai or rain; Ti or fire; Karru or wind) and some break them up into 30day periods (i.e. early-pani, middle-pani, late-pani).
There are also four months (months and seasons are synonymous in all cultures but traditional Halfling)
There are nine weeks to a season
There are ten days to a week (Firisdae, Tuysday, Threesdae, Forsdae, Fyvsdae, Midisdae, Sevynsdae, Eytsdae, Nynesdae, Finisdae)
That means there are 360 weekdays to a year but there are also five feast days (Crystalbough, Todankum or elven newyear, Beddingday, Harvestide, Day of the Dead) on a regular year, and six on a leap year (+ Iruteel).
The Mournful song of none (midnight or zero-hour)
The Pensive song of one
The Solemn song of two
The Hazy song of three
The Earnest song of four
The Eager song of five
The Sober song of six
The Gentle song of seven
The Congenial song of eight
The Practical song of nine
The Determined song of ten
The Energetic song of eleven
The Serene song of twelve
The Awkward song of thirteen (or late-one)
The Indifferent song of fourteen (or late-two)
The Impatient song of fifteen (or late-three)
The Wary song of sixteen (or late-four)
The Weary song of seventeen (or late-five)
The Listless song of eighteen (or late-six)
The Devoted song of nineteen (or late-seven)
The Grateful song of twenty (or late-eight)
The Anxious song of twenty-one (or late-nine)
The Forthright song of twenty-three (or late-ten)
The Penatent song of twenty-four (or late-eleven)
Day 1 challenge (the manticore): missed the item
Day 2 challenge (traps): Blinkback Belt and traveler's money pouch
Day 3 challenge (monster arena): psychic surgery gloves (works like a Vest of Surgery)
Day 4 challenge (mirror maze): Handy Haversack
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Hue waited patiently for Alexandra to finish. She stopped talking and he waited a bit to be clear she was done. The he declared obstinately (like he heard her but couldn't conceive it applied to him), "Yes. Bu' I'm no' charmed." He moved in the direction that the last two spiders disappeared and looked. He looked hard into a darkness he couldn't see through.
Hue's investigation:1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
He looked back at the others.
insight on Kal - being careful or is something else going on:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
All he could see was practicality and heartlessness, someone who would never be able to appreciate the beauty and sweetness of these darling creatures.
Kip was doing their very best impression of a wall and Maddy was playing castle guard on top.
Alexandra was working in service to some wild compass that he was never going to understand.
Still dripping with spider goo, he turned his body to Precious, "Are we going to play i' safe? Is tha' wha' this is? We did wha' we could for the Myconoids. Wha's wrong with these swee' things? Too many legs? Do we have a leg limi' on helping? And wha' we did to their friend. Don' we owe i' to them?"
If everyone votes to keep going and stay safe from the sweet cute charming glistening cave-spiderlings then Hue will follow them - but he's going to pout in a very serious way
Nadj, the old catfolk general, put Zahra's hand on the inside of his elbow. He led her away and whispered, "Zahra al Silimiel, please understand, Hallwn can't just answer questions like that. He is a person of position, and people like him have to strike a delicate balance. As powerful as he is, he still fears the might of The Servants, just as (even up to the end) he feared your greatest of ancestors. One day he may even fear you."
Nadj had taken Zahra halfway to the food tents before he stopped and gave the sorceress the gentlest of stares. Somewhere in the gruff, crude, mangy grey cat were bits of old gentleman.
"These games are hard and you are doing so much better than any expected. Take some comfort." He looked down at the floor and back, "If you want to know more about the mirrors you should ask Iolantha, our engineer. Or go to Ourmeela. She is the the chief archanist for Hallwn. I have also heard rumours the Seneschal of Gosamer House, Voltus, has been looking into your challenges." He gave Zahra back her hand and looked a little put out, "Though no one will tell me why."
You failed your first save. This means that, for a moment, you truly lost yourself in the vision of the mirror. Although you've escaped the vision you will always carry a bit of King Ku'bara'sigi inside you. You may decide how far to take this. A second voice in your head? A forgetful slip into remembering things you shouldn't? A feeling of personal growth, of gained wisdom having been him? A memory? A longing? Something I haven't thought of.
The in-game effect is that you now seem to be able to speak/read/write Valaduth (old human) but don't gain any linguistics ranks
Dounia:
You failed several saves. This means that, for a moment, you truly lost yourself in the vision of the mirror. Although you've escaped the vision you will always carry a bit of Cyra inside you. You may decide how far to take this. The advising voice in your head gets stronger? A forgetful slip into remembering things you shouldn't as someone you aren't? A feeling of personal growth, of gained wisdom having been her? Something I haven't thought of.
Cyra was always a better talker than you.
The in-game effect is that your gain her rogue talent Coax Information
Zahra:
You succeeded your first save. This means you were never really in danger of truly loosing your sense of self. You still were touch by some insight into the thinking of your father and that insight will always be with you.
FYou gain a little of Faheem's knowledge of who to talk to
The in-game effect is that you gain an extra rank of knowledge local
You have lost all sense of yourself and have become your father, Faheem
Faheem woke in the morning. He snuck downstairs and listened carefully. Were his daughter and wife talking in secret again? Were they talking about the woman, Haseena, and the secret lessons? The old woman was dangerous. How did they not understand that!
He took a breath and walked into the kitchen, "alHindiba." His voice was unsteady. "I need you to do something special for me. You must go to the Grand Bazaar in my place today while I deal with Zawoud. He is derelict again and I must get Badru and Lazmah to cover." He came closer and looked his daughter in the eye, "You are ready and everyone loves you ... better than me. Go sell the vendors our spices."
The scene changes.
Faheem walked through the streets towards the grand bazaar. He was with others.
There were four of the city guard who's names Faheem was not told. There was a two person team, a half-orcish man named Uur and an old human in rags named Sumud. There were two brutish looking fellows called Ahmaq and Ghabuin.
Sumud, "We must get to your daughter before the kidnappers do. Does everyone know what their role is?"
One of the guard, "We will draw the attention of any of the other guard. There is a street performer that usually works the bazaar. We will toss his set-up to show he is not performing unsanctioned street magic."
Sumud, "And if he is not there today?"
A second guard, "Then we will accuse one of the foreign attendants of thuggery and of breaking the Emperor's Peace."
Sumud, "Good. Uur?"
Uur, "I will yell that you have disrespected me and beat the life out of you."
Sumud, "Try not to enjoy your roll too much."
Uur, "I will try but it will be difficult."
Sumud, "Ahmaq and Ghabuin?"
Ghabuin, "We will help the spice-man pull his daughter away from the crowd."
Sumud, "And what is most important!"
Ahmaq, "That she not raise alarm."
Sumud, "aaaand?"
Ghabuin nudged his counterpart Ahmaq.
Ahmaq, "That she not get hurt and that we get to her before the kidnappers."
The scene changes
Faheem was on the outskirts of the grand bazaar. The guard's started a scene with a gnome's kiosk. Sumud and Uur begin to fight. Ghabuin hands Faheem a black bag, "Throw this over her head. It will disorient her and make her easier to grab without harm."
Nothing seemed right. It was all happening too fast! There was no time now to stop the momentum. They rushed forward. Ahmaq threw a gag over her head and tightened it. Ghabuin grabbed her with both hands. Faheem threw the bag over her head. The three pulled her away.
Ghabuin looked at Faheem and made a SHHHH sign. It felt threatening. He pulled out a strange dart and pricked her arm. She went limp.
Faheem was filled with fear and anger. In a loud whisper, "This wasn't discussed! What have you done to my alHindiba!"
Ghabuin, "What is necessary! What if she started using the magic the wicked old woman has shown her. She would be lost in a city prison. Do you want that? Dandelions wilt in the dark." The thug had hard hands on Faheem's daughter. What he said was both true and threatening. A wrong move and the thugs might hurt her in a way that she couldn't recover from.
Ahmaq, "Yes. Don't you want her safe from the nasty kidnappers?" The thugs carried Zahra to a secondary alley.
Ghabuin, "Don't worry, spice-man. She will be safe and you will be paid." They rolled her into a carpet and threw her on camel.
Faheem, "Paid, no that's not what -" He tried to grab the carpet and pull it off.
Ghabuin pushed him against a wall, "Yes it is. Your debts will be clear now. Your business will thrive. Your family taken care of." Every time the thug promised safety it sounded like control. It sounded like a threat. It sound like 'we have your daughter'.
Ghabuin got really close to Faheem's face, "You are now a trusted initiate of the Fida Hurras."
Please post as a spoiler. Make a number of wisdom saves equal to Zahra's current wisdom score. The initial DC is 16 but it decreases by 1 each time. Please number the saves. You may receive bonuses if one of the other party members tries to rouse you or supports you with a spell. Each time you fail a roll -1 temporary point from your wisdom as the vision melts your brain. On your first success you realize you aren't Faheem and break free from the mirror.
One note outside of spoilers... you are one mad genius for cooking something seemingly unrelated to anything two years ago only for it to bear fruit now ;^)
I am so very, very pleased you think so.
One of the things I've learned about roleplaying since 1985 ... yup, 39 1/2 years of roleplaying (with a big dry spell in the middle) is that dramatic moments need to be bought and paid for. The more you have to go through to get to a great moment the more powerful it becomes, the more meaningful.
It's a simple lesson but one that I've had confirmed from friends who've led games, and from certain soap-operatic pop-culture series. Critical Role has been a great source of this also (and probably why I didn't like their third series as much).
The down side is that I will plant story lines with long term pay-offs that never happen.
Keeping them a secret from the players is hard and there is an egotistical issue I am often faced with. A player may come very close to figuring out a 'secret' before I want it to happen, mostly because I think the payoff will be weak. Do I steer them away from it? That doesn't seem fair. Smart players deserve to have their gameplay rewarded.
It's touch-and-go at these moments. Reveal for the best payoff I can get at that moment - or - give them a partial reveal - or - steer them away. I admit that I have sometimes choosen to steer people away. It feels like a weak decision and makes the eventual reveal staged and pretentious.
What I love most are the moments when someone leads the story towards a secret when: a) I didn't expect it; and, b) it feels like a great payoff for that secret. Dounia discovering in alHufra that Cyra locked her in the pantry at the beginning of the game was a good example of that. It broke my heart the way that came out. You decided to go to alHufra earlier than I expected. Dounia decided that the sisters had a sign language. It made the moment so much more powerful!
Conditions were right. Payoff was good. Player gave the moment gravity. Time to pull the trigger.
They climbed in the light of the two moons for no one followed the secret way in the light of the cobolt moon alone.
Six times the path approached the mouth of her domicile and six times it led them back down the peak of the mountain. They were nearly there. The woman, of some orcish extraction, tightened her bandage again. She felt her ribs through the bandage and the plaster and counted in a soft voice, "three, four, fi-six, seven" She didn't tell the others. They could know she was hurt but never by how much.
The old man still watched her with concern. "Does your head wrap need attention?" He knew before she said anything that she would lie. She was their physical protection. She was their only real wall against what lay off the path and he worried.
"No, ancient one."
"Could you teach that to my apprentice here - HEY, BOY! I said stay on the path!"
"Calm yourself, ancient one. He's just resting."
"I promise Master. I was just removing a stone." The young man climbed back onto his crutch from sitting on a large stone at the path's edge and began to climb again. "I'll never." He looked the old man in the eyes with true regret. "Not after last time."
The old man felt a pang but stubbornly refused to back-peddle, "We're almost there."
She looked past the old man, "You did ok kid. You gave better than you got. If you're going to make a mistake up here then pay for it and move on. Don't let it take up your head space. Let's worry about the next thing that's going to kill us." She made pointed eye contact with the old man before turning around and reading the ground for tracks. 'Hmm, traces of condor perdition. A vicuna. No trace of what took it down. Snow leopard, maybe' she thought to herself.
It was another half-hour and they came to a small stone wall and in the wall was an arch and through the arch was an iron door. Above the arch old letters were written.
The old man looked up and read, "You have no power here, no office, no dominion, and no right. Enter of your own free will." He walked forward and knocked on the iron door three times with a breath-length pause between each knock. A light sound of metalworks issued from inside. He reached forward, pulled the bar handle and entered.
The half-orc woman shuddered and followed.
The young man tightened the strap holding the canvas package on his back and whispered to himself as he exhaled, "ga'ba'ra'ka". He paused as he pretended to read the words, mimicking his master.
A cobwebbed breeze wafted out of the door frame - cooooommmmme.
He forced his left foot forward and followed his master down a long winding stair.
Tymythy intoned Ku'bara'sigi's magic. Or did he? Was it Ku'bara'sigi alone who wielded such blessings? Was this even happening? But Tymythy could feel a lineage of kings standing behind him, their hands reaching forward to support his strength. A wave of protection fell upon his people.
Ylcar and Azar backed up so they were closer to their King (and in the radius of Usur's influence) as they readied themselves for an attack.
Atros clutched her rod close to her body and began a prayer. When Usur heard her chanting he quickly glanced to her, looked down at the ground and copied her words. They stepped forward but never more than ten feet from their king.
"First
the Void.
Then Leila,
She sang of all things.
All things are come from her wonder
and they are a part of her meticulous wisdom.
Thus, all must return unto her.
She sings of all things,
then, at last,
the Void."
Atlas invisible voice roared, "I've caught your scent!"
Atlas and Glaphyra reappeared, Atlas on the ground attacking the air while Glaphyra held on desperately floating. The devil appeared in their midst baring two horrible claw wounds, one from Atlas and another from Glaphyra. Glaphyra's jaws were clamped on the devil's arm.
Atros and Usur yelled, "THEN, AT LAST, THE VOID!" and a beam of glorious light fell from the naked sky and touched everything within five arm spans of where they stood and in that space one could smell the burning of sulphur.
Both Azar and Ylcar were still frozen in fear but Tash launched her double sling bullets! Miraculously, both stuck and exploded with a hoarfrost. The cold seemed to have no effect on the creature.
The devil began to speak such words that chilled all who could hear her, "Children! You play your arrogant games as you fling sticks at the gods! Your hubris has been discovered and your throne has turned to salt! ... ahhhh!" Glaphyra bit deeper and whatever the monster attempted to finish was ruined.
End of the round - you're up. The devil is 30' away. You need to make a fear check, will save DC29. Failure means you become shaken. You get +1 from Prayer and +4 from Usur.
Usur stepped to Ku'bara'sigi's shield side and drew a massive khopesh. The sword gave out a ring like a silver bell as the man grasped a discus pendant about his neck with the symbol of a silver coy. He muttered a prayer furiously, "Blessed be the keeper of the the holy song blessed be the coming and going of him and may all who strive to walk his path be lifted both them and those whom they walk amongst but let the all who oppose them be lowered even unto the dust"
(prayer - all allies +1 luck to all attack/damage/save/skill rolls)
Standing next to Usur, Tymythy could feel a powerful sense of confidence and courage warm him.
(+4 moral save vs fear while 10' from Usur; stacks with prayer)
Atros raise a two foot long iron rod that was covered in intricate relief imagery that centred around the symbol of an eye with rays emitting like lashes, "Let all our weapons strike as if they were held by HER."
(All weapons become 'good' aligned)
Ylcar and A'zar rushed forward and paused like they were trying to pass through a powerful waterfall.
Tash held back and dropped a sling pouch, heavy with a stone, from her palm. She whipped it around with an anxiety that telegraphed her fear. She released the sling and two stones flew out simultaneously. The devilish creature avoided the bullets with ease.
Ylcar and A'zar shuttered with fear and couldn't act as Tash loaded her sling again, fired, and missed. The devil seemed to be waking up and getting stronger.
The woman smiled and disappeared. perception DC66 - give me a nat 20 and i'll give you a tidbit of info
Atlas and Glaphyra looked to each other.
Atlas, "Can she be that stupid."
Glaphyra, "No. Be careful."
The two lions disappeared. perception DC39
Tymythy/Ku'bara'sigi ran following Usur, who would not outrun his lord for whatever danger was ahead. The others (Ylcar, Atros, A'zar, and Tash) were just ahead of Usur. All eager to do their duty, their spirits were raised by their seemingly-renewed king.
As they rushed through main thoroughfares and down side lanes then through courtyards, Tymythy could see wonderous new sights of flowing water over bridges with only the smallest buttressing. There were towers that appeared to be held up by awkwardly angled staircases. A small fleet of people being ferried through the air on flying carpets controlled by guards on each one fled in the opposite direction.
There were elves and catfolk and people who seemed to have connection with some elemental lineage of either stone, water, earth or air. Dwarves and gnomes, even at their own peril, rushed to keep gate mechanisms, elevators and other feats of engineering running to allow others to escape. There were full-blooded orcs helping old matrons and carrying elven children to safety. There were dogs who seemed to be too aware of their surrounding and reacted to the calamity with obvious consideration rushing to scout out the best of escape routes. Skilled citizens used strange magics to move people from near to some great distance.
When the group finally reached the eastern edge of the city Tymythy/Ku'bara'sigi met up with his warriors and two great golden lions stood with them. Somehow, Tymythy knew these to be Atlas and Glaphyra, a mated pair.
Glaphyra looked at the king, "Lord, it is glorious and a great comfort to see you have come out of you reverie. You are here at the very crashing of the wave. I shall not now dispare our circumstance." Atlas put one leg forward and bowed his head, managing what Tymythy thought was a smile.
But Tymythy could now also see a large dome structure half collapsed revealing its' black painted interior. The remaining dome had holes in it where daylight could beem through in the imitation of starlight. Under the dome lay its' own rubble and a small structure at its' centre. The structure appeared to be four arches joined at their corners so as to make a small square with an arch facing each cardinal direction. Through the opening of the arch was a kind of gossamer veil that wafted of its' own accord. Only a fog was visible past it.
Slowly a woman's leg stepped through the veil. Hands came through pulling the thin curtain apart and uncovering a woman of unspeakable beauty. Her hair was long and black and in amongst the tendrils of hair were woven long black snakes. From her back stretched great skeletal wings with melted flesh stretched between them. Her eyes were malevolent and in them Tymythy could see powerful hate like he has never know and a fear welled up within him.
Chains of silver followed the woman. The chains were bolted to foot long spikes and the spikes pierced her body through the arms and legs. She stared at the king and withdrew one of the spikes from her left wrist. When it was freed it dropped to the ground and slowly faded to a dull grey ... and nearby water ceased to flow ... a floating building fell to the earth ... and part of the outer city wall collapsed. "Did you and your silver pet think you could keep me all my infinite days?"
She grew a bend on her face that looked like a smile but the smile to frightened Tymythy.
(Roll for initiative - for every 5 hit points damage Ku'bara'sigi takes Tymythy will take 1)
A few steps into the hall and Tymythy suddenly felt set stone marble and sand under his feet. He looked around him and he was in the miracle city with no sign of Cairee, Dounia, Zahra or the others. No rope bound him. Stranger still was the mirrors that floated throughout the city. In the mirrors Tymythy could see reflections of himself still tied by the wrist to the others. They were all fine. For the moment at least.
The scale buckler was in his left hand and he could feel the frost of it. Kisu'gina was in his right with its' blade burning like a torch. The hands, however, were the hands of an older man.
(I'm sharing a set of stats with you - please use them as your current stats. You have your own mind but are in a new body for the moment)
Tymythy could see his warriors about him, Nabu'alpa'usur (Usur), Hamilcar (Ylcar), Bomilcar (Bilcar), Abdastartos (Artos), Puabi (Pu'a), Enheduanna (Enhee), Semiramis (Zemi), Belshazzar (A'zar), and Tash'lul'tum. Citizens were hurrying with rushed bundles of their belongings and heading west. Men holding children. Women holding bags. The warriors, however, had their eyes set east.
Bilcar, "Grant me the honor of being your northern guard, I beg you! Nothing will touch the northern Me'za'kar!"
Puabi, "Oh King! Grant Enhee and I the duty of guiding the citizens. We will hold the western way for you if it comes time for you to retreat."
Zemi, "Grant me the guard of the southern Me'za'kar! I, by what strength this body contains, will not fail you!"
Tash, "I have lost the eastern Me'za'kar! Lord, do not leave me to my shame. Let me retake the generator and quell the prisoners!"
Perception check DC12
Usur, "Lord, in whatever you do I shall not leave your side. Though you command me to leave I will not. I give my life to you for this insolence."
Ylcar, Atros, A'zar, "As do we, Great King!"
A hand clamped on to your wrist. You turn to see a man you know was once Sagar Luruguda, the emissary from the river flats, "What have you done! You have brought this on us, you and that serpent you call friend! Let us all bow before the great city, city of dust!"
Usur stepped towards you. He was offened at the touching and looked about ready to cut the man's hand from his arm.
You have three choices: Follow whatever is going on; avert your eyes and try to ignore what's going on; or close your eyes.
Over the next two months I will be very busy at work and it will disrupt my normal posting. I expect to be busy until March 7th. I will post whenever I can.
We are installing a new exhibit called 'Pjila'si' (ep-ji-law-see or ji-law-see; meaning: welcome) and it is dedicated to artifacts and cultural identity for the L'nu or Mi'kmaw people (mee-g-maw; the indigenous peoples of Nova Scotia). It is an incredible opportunity and deep responsibility.
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Hue dropped the sling pouch so that it hung long from his hand and started to swing it around. His shield was tight to the left side of his body.
init:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
He watched this poor twisted version of everything he thought beautiful, not quite able to act against it. But a twitch from the creature, hideously corrupted to his 'shroomer's eye, made his finger slip. And a politeness reflex made him quickly utter, "Ooops, sorry!"
Delaying and hoping to interrupt any spellcasting from Yestabrod. He'll spend 1 superiority dice to make it a distracting strike and he'll drop 'slayer's prey' on that as well. sling:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19if that hits then the next attack on Yestabrod this round is at advantage sling damage:1d4 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6 slayer's prey damage:1d6 ⇒ 4 superiority dice damage:1d8 ⇒ 3
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Hmmm - holding back eh? Well, look here. It looks like the collar just unbuckles. Prepare for hell cause I'm unleashing it!
Hue was focused on the edge of the garden and moved as quietly as he could. His feet squelched on the loamy ground as the muttering became a crescendo of lamentation. His foot slid and he looked down to see the face of an older dark-elven man. Hue shoved his hand in is mouth to keep himself from crying out.
He looked to his left. A gnome's face covered in little grey capped spores. And then others, and others.
The halfling kneeled down and took a closer look. Was this an attack from some creature? Or were they 'planted'? Did the ground roots and fungi grow up around them? Or was the ground dug? Or were they pulled from beneath by the roots themselves? His mind went to a sinister flora, a land poisoned by unsavoury cultures and corrupted gardens.
The faint light let tiny shadows creep over the wailing face and Hue shivered. Something cracked in his mind. He needed to know what was going on and remembered what his step-uncle Rory used to say, 'If'n you find yerself in a sitiation where tha other players hold all the cards then change the game an make them reshuffle'.
Hue huffed to get his courage up and walked out of the zurkwood with his shield tight to his arm.
"Excuse me! I was jus' talking with a wailing, rotten face and they said i' was this way to the meeting for 'Lunatics Who Love Gods for the Corruption of All Growth'? Am I in the righ' place?" He tried to say it loud enough for his friends to hear.
The hope is he will be so out of place and his actions passive and weird enough to create some bewilderment that will disrupt whatever is going on. He will prepare himself to dodge whatever comes at him and hope that the others can buff themselves in the meanwhile.
Everyone could hear Tymythy call out, see him grip his weapon while Zahra did all she could to stare at the floor and avoid looking in the mirrors.
Tymythy:
But in the mirror Tymythy could see the King do the same! Was he puppeting the old master of Kizu'gina? Or was he acting out the kings actions instinctively copying the truth of the past?
The dark-skinned warrior dressed in badded metal and closest to Ku'bara'sigi looked to his king with a flush of pride, "The old king has returned!". Somehow Tymythy instinctualy understood the man's name to be Nabu'alpa'usur, who was also called 'Usur'. The other warriors raised their waeapons and cheered!
The woman stumbled forward. "Silimiel has engaged the stranger in the black cloak. They seemed to argue even as they fought. With the dragon repelled the stragner has gone after the Me'za'kar." It came to Tymythy that the woman's name once was Tash'lul'tum, who was also called 'Tash'.
Me'za'kar? How did Tymythy know this was the term for centres of power?
Usur, "With the Me'za'kar down the prisoners will escape! With the gererators damaged they could take out the entire city!"
A man with one long braid, who was named Hammu'rappi and called 'Rabby' yelled to his king, "My Lord? What is your wish, do we face the Stranger or head west and clear the way for evacuation? Is the evacuation horn to be sounded or the horn for war?!"
Tymythy looked about the mirrors. He saw the other warriors: Hamilcar (Ylcar), Bomilcar (Bilcar), Abdastartos (Artos), Puabi (Pu'a), Enheduanna (Enhee), Semiramis (Zemi), and Belshazzar (A'zar).
(They will do as asked and then run out of view of the mirrors. That will be the end of this vision)
Zahra:
You didn't make a perception check Zahra's perception:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8
Zahra recognized a converstion she and her mother had. Though she didn't remember the words enough for her to understand what was being said.
Nisma's voice, "You XXXe wXth LXXy HaXXXXX XXr X lXXX XXme toXXX. How arX XXXngs bXXXXXn yXX?"
Zahra's voice, "I XXX't XXXw. SXX is XXXXXXg me sX muXX but XX feels ... fXXXy."
Nisma's voice, "Mmm."
Zahra's voice, "SXX's XXXXyX watXXXXg XX liXX XXe's wXXXinX XXX me to Xreak in XXXX. SXX'X XXXXing me sXXXXts like I'XX nXXXr XXown XXX she XXXer XellX me XXXXt XXXXelf. HXXX you XeeX the XXXtuXXs in her XXXX? She XXX sX XXXXg and I XXXXX sXX Xas a XerforXXX of sXXX kXXX. A XXXXer? Why can she tell me how XX XXcus and see XXXic and, I don't XXXw XXXthXXX XXXXt her, XXX XXXXXd she be XX XXld?"
The real Zahra could feel her throat tighten anxiously.
Nisma's voice, "She XXXXs tXXt yoXX XXXXX abXXXXXy is dXXXerXXs. If people find XXX they will Xry to force you iXXX a schXXX, or XXXXX, the city XXXl Xake yXXu XXXXXpeaX. She XXX beXX X CCrt of tXXt worXX for a XXXX XXXX. LXXXXX to her. EmXXXXX her Xaution. Above all keep thXs Xetween yXX and X and LaXy XasXXna."
Zahra's voice, "Yes MXXXXr, I knXX."
A nearby door closes quietly then the vision was gone and would never come back.
Tymythy - discussion post says you're looking straight on ... here we go. Also, yes, the damage is more like sympathetic pain and no rubble flew out of the mirrors at Tymythy.
Tymythy:
As Cairee led the group around the mirrors Tymythy could see the reflection of different parts of this strange city. At one point he watched the ceiling and walls reflect the image of a triumphal arch and The Blackbirds walked through its' opening. Beyond the arch stood King Kubar'sigi. His hair rustled in the forced air.
A shadow shot over all. It was like the shadow of the wyvern from the orcs hunting challenge but much larger. Kizu'gina didn't quiver at its' appearance. For the space of a glance, the reflection of a great beast shot by in the sky and disappeared behind buildings. A streak of silver-white.
Warriors came, surrounded the king and waited for his commands.
In the direction the shadow flew a great explosion errupted from behind the majestic marble buildings. The cloud rose up and a wave of hot wind rumbled between structures to nearly blow people off their feet and coat everyone in sand. Kubara'sigi held firm as the others admired and looked to him.
In the sky the flying figure was tossed backwards and collided with a bell tower, demolishing the top of the structure. Tymythy could see it now. A dragon with silver-white scales but smaller than he expected. Its' body was lodged in the broken tower top.
Then a second explosion to the King's left.
Then a third to his right.
All turned back to watch like they knew where the fourth would happen and sure enough a southern explosion.
A woman crawled out from behind a building. Her chain coat was covered in dust. She yelled from the distance, "My King! The city ... the city is fallen!"
(please make a will save DC16. Failure = 2d6 hp psychic damage as the grief hit you. Success = 1/2damage)
Instead, Tymythy could see into the room and the streets of a small city lay out before him. Zhayalamar is the only city Tymythy had ever known and it was a crowded, stinking, place filled with wonders of architecture madly stacked, one building over another.
This place was not that.
Sand blew over great stone slabs set into the street. Massive monuments branched out of marble and sandstone walls. Great towers branched out in an ordered spiral with bridges attaching them together. A fountain gurgled with crystal clear water and over the fountain a sculpture of what Tymythy took to be a scale model of the city floated impossibly - like the island over Hallwn's lake. Great, gem like mirrors hung from archways that were decorated in carvings of bewildering mathematical precision.
A man ran into view of the mirrors and he was reflected here and there. He stopped. His dark blue robe with stars open slightly to show a shirt with a strange pattern of plates (mountain pattern) and Tymythy himself could feel the weight of it on his shoulders. Kizu'gina burned gloriously as the man held it and Tymythy could once again feel its' heat next to him.
Soldiers, men and women, with a practiced strength came to the man's side. They wore fine robes that likewise covered strange armour and held weapons of peculiar design. Longbows with the handle set closer to the bottom than the middle. Slim long bladed swords with grips nearly as long. Clubs nearly their height with characters carved in the length and studs all about. Crossbows with confusing complicated winches.
Several of the soldiers and many of the citizens of this strange place were clearly elven but they were taller and had a presence that Tymythy did not know of their race. Several of the elves had a nimbus of light about the tops of their heads.
A great purple sphere rocketed towards one of the monuments, blowing it apart. Rubble began to fall towards a small gathering of people.
No saving throw here. Do you want to: a) take a real look and I can reveal more information to you clearly; b) avert your eyes and I will reveal only the tiniest scrap of information; or c) close your eyes and you get nothing
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Alexandra Edgaria Poeschkina wrote:
Hmm Hue, sometimes bouts of madness are enemy action, could it be something put a mind whammy on you?
::I've been a 'shroomer for a long time now, from a tween anyway. My work's given me a kinda sense of things. A smell on the air. My hackles rise. And no two kinds of creatures are alike. With restless dead things I smell a foulness in the air. With aberrant growths, the hairs on my neck stand on end. With devils and angels, the backs of my hands get itchy. It's different for dragon things and fey things and elemental things::
::This time 'round I felt like I was looking into the sun, except the sun was half-days walk away and it wasn't golden. It was a big black hole of nothin. I couldn't close my view of the thing and my good-sense went blind. Then all of the shadows, I understood, for a while, they'd all come from this 'way too big nothing'. They were bad. They were waiting in the corners and they wanted to do bad to us.::
::It was like I was looking for a sip of water and then someone threw me in the ocean and I forgot how to swim and I ... I ...::
Hue started to talk to himself in a whisper, "Now now Mister Hue. Remember wha' happened las' time ... oh, good of you to poin' out Mister Hue ... Well, we go' to have each other's backs now don' we ... righ' we do, Mister Hue, righ' we do."
Hue breathed in and out and looked at Alex, ::It didn't feel like an attack. It felt like I opened a door and took a peak at something and that something was too much. But, really, what do I know::
Tymythy's eyes looked up the mirror. From metal sandals to gartered desert pants. From long deep blue robe of stars to bronze chest piece. A man stood there mirroring Tymythy's stance, clothed in ancient fashion. The man wore a regal iron band about his head and his beard was a full single ripple of wavy whiskers tied at the end with a bronze bangle. His eyes were wise and piercing and, although his body was that of a man nearly seventy years old, it still had some strength in it.
In the man's right hand was Kizu'gina, and the usriev looked glorious! The shaft and handle glowed with tiny silver runes and the blade burned with secret fire that never tarnished the metal. Tymythy could feel its' warmth on the right side of his own face as if he held the great ancient spear. On the king's left arm was the scale of Silimiel, the buckler found in the tomb of Bar Ku'bara'sigi. It shone with a faint inner light and frosty mist rose from its' face. Tymythy could feel the cold touch his left forearm.
Tymythy could feel the dryness of the desert air. He could hear the voices of the people near. And the cacophony of some distant disaster.
As Tymythy looked into the mirror he could see motlen material from some explosion beyond the glass's reflection flying toward the king. Tymythy reflexively ducked and, as he did, the mirror image ducked with him. They managed to dodge the majority of the burning material and the rest was quenched by the buckler ... no the image ... just the image ... just the image managed to doge it. (nice save)
But Tymythy could feel the heat of the molten material all the same.
The man in the mirror stood up tall and spoke. As the man spoke like some king of old, Tymythy could feel a whisper escape his own lips. The man then ran off to the side and out of view. Seven other warriors, strong and in their late prime, ran after him.
A great rush of anguish flooded through Tymythy - this place was in danger if he didn't do something, now!
Will save DC12 - fail means you take 7 psychic damage/success means 2 damage]
Tymythy tugged suddenly at the rope and all could feel it, but his hand didn't leave the loop. He absent mindedly whispered something under his breath that those near him could barely hear, "If the vaults break the entire city will be destroyed."
-
Dounia forced her eyes to the dark marble. She falls several times but her hand never leaves the loop and she always returns to her feet.
Dounia only:
As she turned her eyes away from the mirror the noise of the riot turned into a low rumble. The smell of fire became distant. The voice of the woman was now an indecernable mumble. Somehow, the desert thief knew that if she looked into the mirror all of the noises and smells would return but she held tight.
The jostling didn't stop.
She continued to be pushed about by collisions with giants. Twice she was knocked so hard she fell down and had to stand again. It was an effort to keep her eyes on the ground with all of the invisible pushing and shoving. Voices continue to shout but she couldn't make out what they were saying. She only gots the sense that what is being said is very urgent.
The woman's voice called out but the words sounded like they are coming from beyond a thick pane of glass. Still the urgency was there.
She heard the muffled sound of a child crying inconsolably.
At last, Dounia feels arms wrap around her. Her feet never leave the floor but she also feels like she's being lifted up, carried away. A wave of fear and loneliness, a feeling of abandonement washes over her.
She can barely make out the woman's voice, "Youx xxxng tx xx safe nox. You're xafe. Whexx are youx paxxnts? What xx xxxx name?
The child of maybe four years old responded in a tiny voice, "I know my name is Cyra."
Make a will save DC12 - you didn't look so you get a +4. Failure means you take 12 psychic damage. Pass means you take 2
-
Yup, your result is 6
Zahra clamped her eyes tight to the floor and chanted her mantra about where exactly she was. As she looked away all of the sounds and smells dulled. The voices she heard were more like the voices of someone locked up in a chest and she only made out the dullest muttering.
Spoiler:
What she could feel, however, was still as if others were in the hall with her.
She felt hands grab her arms. She felt a hard slam on her back like the arms threw her up against something. A fist slammed into her stomach. Then again. Something that felt like a twisted shop rag wrapped around her throat and began to choke her.
(You take 2 non-lethal damage)
All the time Zahra kept her eyes on the floor. The dark smokey marble reflected the image of the mirror but she could only see that her father was there, and there were others. She could not see what was happening or who was doing this.
The woman's voice, "Are yxx xxxx enougx xxx? Axx xou lisxxxxng carxxxxxy? Xx hxxe bxx waxxxing yxxx xxxxxxxx and you axx bxxxxing xx noxxxxx. Xxw wxxl xou pay xx ix xxxen xxxs? Xx'xe xxxx tx rexxxd yxx xxxx xxxx xxxx is yoxr prixrity."
Faheem choaked, "I xxxx it. X wxxx have xxx xxxxx. I will xxxp xy proxxxx."
The woman, "Pxxxxe who gxxxle sxxxxd xxxxxx be rxxh or xxxe. Faheem, you are xxxxxxx. You xxxxx haxx my mxxxx. All xxxxty-xxxe thxxxxxx. Or I sxxxx xxxx xxx daughxer's fixxx'x, yxxx wixx'x xxxs, and your xxxx."
The choaking stopped. Zahra felt like she had fallen to the floor but somehow she was still standing.
The woman's voice, "Is this txx xxxd xx txe Asmar xxxxxx? Ix xxis xx that the inflxxxxx of xxe Grxxx Sxlimiel xxxxx xxxxxr?"
Faheem, "Whx is Silimxxl?"
A great wave of anxiety washes over Zahra.
Make a will save DC12 - you didn't look in the mirror so add +4 to your roll. Failure means you take X damage/pass means you take 2
Zahra looked like she was about to vomit as she suddenly grabbed her stomach. She didn't leave the rope. She didn't look in the mirror.
-
Cairee chanced a look at a distant mirror and then pulled away. She started to lead the others to a second exit but the going was slow. Dounia fell violently twice. Zahra doubled over in pain and started to choke, Tymythy ducked low then yelled like his arms were on fire. Cyn grabbed on to the rope hard as E'gama, eyes shut, pushed her forward by the shoulder.
Cairee only:
As Cairee turned away the sound of her own voice dimmed so that she couldn't make it out. The taste of blood weakened. It felt like her back was laying against something hard. She thought she could hear Arnie's voice but it was a mumble. She got the feeling if she looked in the mirror she could hear him clearly but she held fast. Still the noises persisted.
Arnie sounded angry, "!od xxx xxd taxX"
Cairee's reflection voice, "!ti dxx I !xx xxd X"
That's when Cairee felt hands touching her chest. The hands were small. They were the slightly calloused hands of a young woman no stranger to hard work. Cairee felt the hands pulling something from her. Pulling life. The pain in her sides flared like two burning fires. It felt like dying.
Please make a will save DC13 - because you didn't face it by looking it in the mirror your defences are down so roll at -4. Failure means you take 6 hit points damage. Pass means you take 1
In this place of dying Cairee felt empty and utterly alone. There were no gods here, no Saiph. There was only an immense feeling of meaninglessness, of nothingness. Anguish flowed over her.
Make a second Will save DC12 - you didn't look in the mirror so you get +4 on this roll. Failure means you take x psychic damage/Pass means you take 2 damage
Here is Zahra's death vision as written by the two of us. I've woven them together where appropriate. I thought it was quite a lovely bit of cooperative writing. My part is italicized.
The Death of Silimiel:
In a flash the environment changed.
Where the arena once enveloped her, with its' sticky warmth and threatening looming shadows watching from the stands, there was now a snow-capped mountain scape.
Zahra stood on a peak and there were others about her. Humans and elves, a mountain giant with half a dozen gnomes riding on his shoulders, a woman in the most elaborate robes wearing a veil of thin black cloth under fine chain links (the veil seemed to be writhing?!), a massive black horse with short backward facing horns and a hide of iridescent scales, and a few others of strange origin.
Zahra took a deep, steadying breath and exhaled slowly. She watched her breath come out like smoke in the cold. Then she blinked a few times as if trying to clear her vision. Last time she had transported out of the challenge, she had found out she almost died. Had the same thing happened? Why did everyone want to hurt her all of a sudden? She was a good person, wasn't she?
Not knowing what to do, the sorceress kept walking along with the others. They all seemed to know where they were going. Maybe she'd find answers when they got to their destination.
They all walked a winding stone way that was sometimes a meagre path and sometimes a staircase that followed the mountain ridge and led to a higher peak. A woman of about Zahra's age was standing on the side of the path. She seemed perhaps part-elven and wore warm-looking robes of black with dark blue embroidery. She carried a staff and was speaking to the procession of creatures but none of them were responding. Her hair was long and full-on white despite her age.
Colliope, "I'm sorry but I don't understand how I got here. Can someone tell me where we are? I need to get back to my friends, you see. They were in trouble and it's very bad that I've left them. Hello?? Won't one of you talk to me???" She looked like her anxiety is increasing.
The procession passed her by as if she were invisible.
When she came upon the woman, Zahra looked back and forth at the others around her. Surely they were more qualified to speak with this lost soul than she. But when no one paid the woman any attention, Zahra couldn't help but step out of line to join her.
Zahra gave the woman a gentle smile, "I don't know either but maybe we can figure it out together. My name is Zahra. What can I call you? I totally understand your concern because I need to get back to my friends too as we were also in trouble." She leaned in and said quieter, "I bet no one else is talking because no one knows where we are."
Zahra noticed no one seemed to be paying attention to her either.
Calliope. "Please, I'm Calliope. I'm a little anxious. The way people are ignoring me, I don't think I'm altogether 'here'. But you're right let's follow."
Zahra gave Calliope's arm a reassuring squeeze, "Now we have each other so hopefully you won't feel so anxious. It's amazing how comforting it is when someone sees you and how unnerving it is when they don't."
The two continued along the path together and picked up three other people, the only people that seemed to notice and interact with them. There was a very elderly halfling named Grayleg Goldvaser, who said he was in bed and his family were about him before he arrived suddenly here. There was a middle-aged scholar named Ceilig Cooper. She was in hospital after contracting filth-fever during her time tending the sick. Finally, there was a fit dark-elven man, with swords belted to his side, who called himself Thix.
All of them seemed lost.
As they collected more people and heard their stories, Zahra was pretty certain that Calliope had been right. All of them seemed to have memory of being close to death before arriving here.
As they all followed the trail it came to the next peak where wooden platforms allowed people to stop and rest. Once Zahra and the others found their way there they could see nestled in the snow and curled around the highest peak was a massive dragon. The dragon appeared to be sleeping and its' breathing was laboured. The snow pushed away from its' nostrils with every exhale. Its' scales looked a grey-silver.
The others Zahra traveled with stopped and were, in one way or another, transfixed.
Kneeling before the dragon with their backs to Zahra were four men of different statures but all wearing the same long black leather coats. Their weapons were laid before them. Their heads were bowed.
To the dragon's left stood three high-elven figures that Zahra might have taken for priests. Two stood behind one who read off a scroll.
To the dragon's right sat cross-legged a monk. His head was also bowed and he droned out a prayer in a low voice, "mmmmmthequietwayisthepathtommmmmlettinggoisthepathtommmmmpeaceisthepathtom mmmmunderstandingisthepathtommmmmstrengthisthepathtommmmmthequietwayis..."
Wait a minute. Was that monk the priest they found in the desert? Was that Ldanfoat???
Zahra's eyes widened when the dragon came into view but she didn't stop like the others. Her heart went out to the ancient wonder when she saw their laboured breathing but she was comforted that he wasn't alone.
She gasped loudly when she recognized Ldanfoat, or at least thought she recognized him.
The high-elven cleric read aloud, "The time is nearing. Our great friend Silimiel will soon be crossing over to the endless palace. He has here writ that he requests you four to be the front line in the defence of the world against the rise of the Servants of the Great Red Dragon. Do you take this sacred bequest?"
Without even realizing, tears began to streak down Zahra's face. She knew that Silimiel had died but there was something about witnessing it first hand that broke her heart. She wished that she had known Silimiel because she could see the devotion he garnered from those gathered. It gave her greater confidence that the stories she had heard were not exaggerated or made up, but truth. And she was related to him! How humbling was that?
The four men, "We do Great One!" As they replied it was not to the elf they vowed but the dragon.
Cleric, "To forsake your own safety?"
The four men, "We do Great One!"
Cleric, "To think only of your duty and push away all worldly desire?"
The four men, "We do Great One!"
Cleric, "To act in all things as he would have acted, without malice, without fear, without ego?"
One man, "I will to the last of my breath!"
Second man, "I will as I abandon my old selfish life!"
Third man, "I will to this purpose alone and none other!"
Fourth man, "I, in humility and with all this body may do, will!" The fourth man's voice sounded familiar.
Cleric, "Then go all of you. You shall be the Great One's 'Cardinal Directions'. From here you abandon your names and shall only be called North, South, East, and West. You shall guard wherever the Master is to be found. If he should act with malevolence or reveal himself you shall face him."
The Cardinal Directions, "Yes Great One!"
Silimiel raised his head and spoke in a tired voice, "Except for you, East. You shall by your name be known but your purpose hidden. You shall find the woman Samreen. She is a force for good. You will find a way into her household and, if necessary, trade your life for hers. Please child. It is with heaviest of hearts that I ask this of you."
The fourth man bowed until his forehead touched the ground, "I, in humility and with all this body may do, will!"
When Zahra recognized the voice of the fourth man, she needed to see his face. Fairly certain that they weren't aware of her and that she was somehow witnessing the past, she moved up to stand beside Silimiel so that she could see the faces of the Cardinal Directions. She studied each of their faces and couldn't help but gasp again, especially when Samreen's name was mentioned. That's why his voice had sounded familiar!
Zahra passed through the smattering of attendees and looked back at the four men. North, South, and West looked unfamiliar to her. But East. Kehydius?! The man she knew as Samreen's bodyguard. He looked serious. Rigid. Not the friendly man she had met first at the opera house. There was something else about his face that was strange to her, something perhaps naive.
Zahra's jaw dropped as East's face came into view.
Kehydius! When this was all over, she definitely needed to find him and Samreen again.
With the vows given, Zahra took a moment to crouch beside Silimiel and placed a hand lovingly on his neck. She knew he didn't know she was there but as he neared the end, she wanted him to know that he was loved and not just revered
As she came to Silimiel himself. His eyes were closed and his breathing laboured. His scales just like the one they found in King Kubara'sigi's burial place. She touched his neck and he stirred. His eye opened. With the last of his strength he raised his head and stared at her. His breathing changed to short rapid ins and outs.
His eyes searched the crowd. Calliope, Greyleg, Ceilig, and Thix had all moved to the front.
The elven cleric, "Great One, please calm yourself. You are safe and amongst friends."
Silimiel, "Thank you, Lord Sagina! You have answered my ... dying wish and granted me a vision of my descendants! Forgive me ... my distant grandchildren. For you to be here ... you must be close ... to the veil between life and afterlife ... I would ... not have you endangered but so ... wanted to see."
"Ceilig ... Has the plague colony illness finally overthrown ... your constitution? Greyleg ... Have you ... finally made it home? ... Calliope ... What ... threat have you and your friends ... been vanquishing? ... Thix ... have ... the assassins ... found you? And ... Zahra ..."
"Sweet Zahra ... your trial is about to begin ... you are headed to ... the grande bazaar ... don't worry. They will take you but ... it will only lead you ... to friends."
"Thank you for answering my one ... last ... selfish ... wish. Sagina. I am ready."
Elven cleric, "He is growing delusional. Everyone step back."
Ldanfoat stopped his chant, "No, Caryana'padi, this dosen't feel like a delusion. Have patience. He is at the end." He began chanting again. Others joined in.
The sorceress almost collapsed from surprise when Silimiel stirred at her touch. He could see her! And he said grandchildren, not grandchild. She had more family!
Her brow furrowed a bit when Silimiel mentioned the Grande Bazaar. Was he referring to what had already happened or something that was to come?
Greyleg the halfling, "I think I'm going with him. I'm coming Great Gaffer." The others touch Greyleg's shoulders and he walked forward and faded away.
Silimiel's head droops to the ground. He let out one last long breath and was gone. Over his body the clouds dissolved save one directly overhead. It took the form of dragon and slowly sailed away from the mountains, out over the distant desert and towards the sea.
As the great Silimiel breathed his last, tears freely flowed down Zahra's face. She mourned for the great dragon she knew him to be and for not being able to spend more time with him. She gave his neck a hug and kissed him above his eye. "Farewell, Silimiel. May you find open skies and cool winds. May you rest in peace knowing the world is better because you were in it."
Zahra stared at the cloud that formed upon Silimiel's passing. She cocked her head as she studied it. It looked familiar somehow. Then the pieces began falling into place and her hand flew to her mouth as she gasped. She had seen this cloud before on the day she had been taken. And of course, Silimiel had been correct, she would never had met her friends if she hadn't been kidnapped. "Thank you," she whispered before tearing herself away from her ancestor's side.
With Greyleg disappearing before she could say goodbye, Zahra ran over to the others. "I've always wanted siblings. Where do you guys live? I would love to find you someday. Remember, I'm in Zhayalammar."
Zahra stood up suddenly and looked around. She had thought she had heard Cairee yelling at her but she couldn't see her friend. She moved over to Calliope and the others, "Part of me feels like I'm being pulled away from here. I can hear my friend and I suddenly feel a lot of pain. In case I suddenly leave, I wanted to say goodbye and good luck. I'm glad to have met you and that we weren't alone in this place. If you make it back and are ever in Zhayalammar, find me at the Lesser Bazaar."
Zahra briefly joined the others and one-by-one they faded as mourners prayed on the mountain top.
Zahra mumbled a word that sounded like Cairee's name but without vowels. Her fingers twitched and it looked like her eyelids were trying to open but couldn't because they were so heavy.
Zahra's face was wet from tears as she began to stir. Although she quickly realized that not all of them were sad tears. She desperately wanted to share what had happened with her friends but was painfully aware of the danger they were in. It would have to wait. She finally opened her eyes and when Cairee's face came into focus she whispered, "Did we win? Did you get your voice back?"
there was now a single yellow jasmine flower Apparently signifying grace and elegance in the language of flowers delicately set in the woman’s hair.
”It suits you,” he whispered with a smile.
The woman paused for a beat and in that moment she was taking the spearman in visually. He was more than what she'd thought. "Yendolyn. People call me Yendolyn." People began to gather about them in a wide circle and some of the porters put down trays and began to clap or stomp their feet in rhythm with the dancing. A drum started to beat heavily. Imagine THIS but with a scarf held between them - best from 4mins to the end
She slid down with her left leg drawing an arc from two o'clock to five o'clock. Her unsandaled foot was taut and her big toe pointed to lengthen her leg so that it looked like a spear. She pulled her leg in to dart to Tymythy's left and tried to off-balance him by drawing him backwards.
CMB trip:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27
He nearly fell over (though few could tell, his dancing was so responsive everything seemed planned) as she unfolded the scarf and let it out to its' full seven foot length.
CMB grapple:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
She quickly loosened the tension, wrapped the scarf about his free wrist and pulled him upright again. She used the hold to lead the dance and guide his movements like lunges towards her. She backed up to give him room and then released his wrist.
Tymythy:
The grapple and lunges provide her a moment to show Tymythy longer spear thrusts, like a tutor helping a youth pull a bow string and relax the shoulder. For your posts, her CMD is 18 - please perform two maneuvers at this new full length. Then we'll wrap up the dance. No need for more dance rolls - you're functioning at your result of 27
Even with Yendolyn's precise moves and skill, Tymythy was clearly holding his own.
"I'm curious as to what led you down this path. Is my heritage important to your studies? You said you've studied and learned about the wyrm and the linorrum. Do you know of Silimiel? Can you tell me about him?"
Roshynduv looked surprise and couldn't hide it. She didn't seem to expect Zahra to be so open. "Your heritage is curious to me, not so much 'important'. I've studied dragons because they have been an ancient enemy to my people. So I know very little about the so called 'Meatailit' dragons, or ore'd dragons. Silvered, Golden, or bronze and copper. I know more about the 'Dath'-drakes or hue dragons. Red, Black, and such.
"How did this split begin? Why do the metals tend towards the protection of life and the hued dragons fall to avariciousness and malcontent? This is a mystery. Are there no well-willed green, or white creatures of their race.
"Yet, each has their power invested in the other races. Like you, blood of, what was it 'Salimiel'. No, I'm not familiar with the name.
"I do know enough about dragons to answer more general questions."
-
Grownya didn't waste any time either, "I'm a Deep Marshal. I get my skills from attunement to tradition and to the particular nature of certain weapons. The great axe knows how to cleave. The long pick knows how to pierce. The warhammer knows how to crush. From that I can make effects happen. Tradition is the bridge between me and arcane magic.
"But you. You can make missiles of pure force or launch ice from nothingness through the power of your own blood. Your blood is your bridge.
"WHat does it feel like? Every time I manifest an effect I can feel a deep sense of dept to my ancestors. I stand on their bones. Your power comes from inside you. It must feel very powerful."
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Hue looked around wildly. "How many of them are there???" When Stool translated he started to panick, "I jus' go' my hearing back. Have I lost my voice now?"
"Can you hear me?
He looked to his friends, scared.
"Can anybody hear me???"
(I get he's not speaking undercommon but hue on the other hand...)
While Zahra was looking for information she could see the lake.
The Twins were cutting through quickly as they refused to answer any of the riddles and, instead, faced the monsters and the traps one by one. Animated swords and hideous giant snakes. They finally reached the last door, the door with the relief sculpture of the Sphinx. It came to life and began to speak.
"At the top of the pillar is a sword raised high,
Beneath the sword are two hearts carved,
Beneath the hearts are two trees shaped,
Beneath the trees are many bones engraved,
Beneath the bones is a fist of stone.
What is the fist of stone?"
The Arnie was about to grab the handle of a door and try to force it open but Mar grabbed his wrist. She looked him and some sense of recognition came to them both. They spoke simulteneously ...
"Grandmother"
The door opened and they walked into the arena basin with their hands clasped and raised high.
After taking a brief moment for the crowd, Arnie rushed the scoreboard. He looked on for a moment and his face turned red. He threw his great club towards the stairs in an angry fit and stormed off. Mar stood there staring at the board.
She looked pissed.
-
Perdition's Cavaliers had made it through their challenge. Where glass bariers were replaced by razor wire. The water trap was now a trap that vomited up lava. Then another room had been added to the others. It looked like a goblin's alchemy lab where everything in the room had been rigged.
The Cavaliers came through singed, cut, bruised, partially deafened, and exhausted but they had made excellent time and had worked together well.
-
The orcish team continued their climb up this foreign mountain scape with no sign of it ending.
-
The Adherents continued as they had been. The leader was out front and faced the mirrors as the others held on tightly to the person in front of them. They seemed to be using rituals of protection to aid their master (They are magically buffing the hell out of him) while he resisted the charms of the mirrors and used his magical skills to attack them. He warped them with heat and shattered them with sound.
As they neared the exit the leader seemed to recognize something.
Don Ric'cassa, "no No, it can't be! Snake! Get thee to A'tur'a! I ABDURE THEE!"
The second in line grabbed him and felt their way to the exit where Ric'assa fell to his knees sobbing. He slowly composed himself and stood.
Not the woman in the red dress but the wagon/cadge driver. Proper spelling is Casche Anhidar. The woman in the red dress (who lived in alKubiri in a house with two heron sculpturees by the front door - the house Dounia broke into in her earliest posts) handed you over to Casche.
Zahra passed through the smattering of attendees and looked back at the four men. North, South, and West looked unfamiliar to her. But East. Kehydius?! The man she knew as Samreen's bodyguard. He looked serious. Rigid. Not the friendly man she had met first at the opera house. There was something else about his face that was strange to her, something perhaps naive.
As she came to Silimiel himself. His eyes were closed and his breathing laboured. His scales just like the one they found in King Kubara'sigi's burial place. She touched his neck and he stirred. His eye opened. With the last of his strength he raised his head and stared at her. His breathing changed to short rapid ins and outs.
His eyes searched the crowd. Calliope, Greyleg, Ceilig, and Thix had all moved to the front.
The elven cleric, "Great One, please calm yourself. You are safe and amongst friends."
Silimiel, "Thank you, Lord Sagina! You have answered my ... dying wish and granted me a vision of my descendants! Forgive me ... my distant grandchildren. For you to be here ... you must be close ... to the veil between life and afterlife ... I would ... not have you endangered but so ... wanted to see."
"Ceilig ... Has the plague colony illness finally overthrown ... your constitution? Greyleg ... Have you ... finally made it home? ... Calliope ... What ... threat have you and your friends ... been vanquishing? ... Thix ... have ... the assassins ... found you? And ... Zahra ..."
"Sweet Zahra ... your trial is about to begin ... you are headed to ... the grande bazaar ... don't worry. They will take you but ... it will only lead you ... to friends."
"One ... last ... selfish ... wish. Sagina. I am ready."
Elven cleric, "He is growing delusional. Everyone step back."
Ldanfoat stopped his chant, "No, Caryana'padi, this dosen't feel like a delusion. Have patience. He is at the end." He began chanting again. Others joined in.
Greyleg the halfling, "I think I'm going with him. I'm coming Great Gaffer." The others touch Greyleg's shoulders and he walked forward and faded away.
Silimiel's head droops to the ground. He let out one last long breath and was gone. Over his body the clouds dissolved save one directly overhead. It took the form of dragon and slowly sailed away from the mountains, out over the distant desert and towards the sea.
Zahra briefly joined the others and one-by-one they faded as mourners prayed on the mountain top.
Zahra - permenantly increase your wisdom by 1 point. You may also want to reread the first spoiler I posted for you, your introduction on page1. The short paragraph just above "Then, a few things happen very quickly." and take note of the cloud I mention.
Zahra noticed no one seemed to be paying attention to her either.
Calliope. "Please, I'm Calliope. I'm a little anxious. The way people are ignoring me, I don't think I'm altogether 'here'. But you're right let's follow."
The two continued along the path together and picked up three other people, the only people that seemed to notice and interact with them. There was a very elderly halfling named Grayleg Goldvaser, who said he was in bed and his family were about him before he arrived suddenly here. There was a middle-aged scholar named Ceilig Cooper. She was in hospital after contracting filth-fever during her time tending the sick. Finally, there was a fit dark-elven man, with swords belted to his side, who called himself Thix.
All of them seemed lost.
As you all followed the trail it came to the next peak where wooden platforms allowed people to stop and rest. Once Zahra and the others found their way there they could see nestled in the snow and curled around the highest peak was a massive dragon. The dragon appeared to be sleeping and its' breathing was laboured. The snow pushed away from its' nostrils with every exhale. Its' scales looked a grey-silver.
The others Zahra traveled with stopped and were, in one way or another, transfixed.
Kneeling before the dragon with their backs to Zahra were four men of different statures but all wearing the same long black leather coats. Their weapons were laid before them. Their heads were bowed.
To the dragon's left stood three high-elven figures that Zahra might have taken for priests. Two stood behind one who read off a scroll.
To the dragon's right sat cross-legged a monk. His head was also bowed and he droned out a prayer in a low voice, "mmmmmthequietwayisthepathtommmmmlettinggoisthepathtommmmmpeaceisthepathtomm mmmunderstandingisthepathtommmmmstrengthisthepathtommmmmthequietwayis..."
Wait a minute. Was that monk the priest they found in the desert? Was that Ldanfoat???
The high-elven cleric read aloud, "The time is nearing. Our great friend Silimiel will soon be crossing over to the endless palace. He has here writ that he requests you four to be the front line in the defence of the world against the rise of the Servants of the Great Red Dragon. Do you take this sacred bequest?"
The four men, "We do Great One!" As they replied it was not to the elf but the dragon that they faced.
Cleric, "To forsake your own safety?"
The four men, "We do Great One!"
Cleric, "To think only of your duty and push away all worldly desire?"
The four men, "We do Great One!"
Cleric, "To act in all things as he would have acted, without malice, without fear, without ego?"
One man, "I will to the last of my breath!"
Second man, "I will as I abandon my old selfish life!"
Third man, "I will to this purpose alone and non other!"
Fourth man, "I, in humility and with all this body may do, will!"
The fourth man's voice sounded familiar.
Cleric, "Then go all of you. You shall be the Great One's 'Cardinal Directions'. From here you abandon your names and shall only be called North, South, East, and West. You shall guard wherever the Master is to be found. If he should act with malevolence or reveal himself you shall face him."
The Cardinal Directions, "Yes Great One!"
Silimiel raised his head and spoke in a tired voice, "Except for you, East. You shall by your name be known but your purpose hidden. You shall find the woman Samreen. She is a force for good. You will find a way into her household and, if necessary, trade your life for hers. Please child. It is with heaviest of hearts that I ask this of you."
The fourth man bowed until his forehead touched the ground, "I, in humility and with all this body may do, will!"
Dounia went to her knees like lightning could see how the raised slab had dropped enough to draw a wide inch of cloth with it. A simple long cut with a dagger should free her friend and she drew for that purpose.
Looking up to reassure her, Dounia watched as Zahra's eyes glowed silver. The sorceress made a motion as if whipping something off her fingertips and spoke in draconic "libx". Zahra's entire body seemed to ooze plastic oils such as would cover a great wheeled mechanism.
Dounia slashed the material. Zahra was free to move.
escape artist +grease vs DC10:1d20 + 2 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 2 + 10 = 29
She slipped free and into the space with the others without issue.
Zahra has +10 on all rolls for escape artist and CMB to escape grapples for the next 30rnds - stay away from fires
Cairee - I'm going to assume you're using your feat to withhold healing to the Naga
From the north, ice collided with the creature's shoulder as Tymythy harried it from the west. With its' body turned Dounia struck out from the east, plunging a dagger into the back of her lung and a second up through the side toward the liver. Cairee shrunk backwards and beams of light emitted from her. They ran over Tymythy and Dounia providing warmth and understanding. Dounia's wound stopped bleeding. Tymythy's shoulder strain disappeared.
(Dounia heals up to her new max of 18hps. Tymythy's shoulder strain is gone and he does regular two-handed damage again)
Now that the Naga could see you all its' eyes went wide with realization. Her voice was as soft as before, "Ah! Three will there be amongst the chosen. One who has forsaken their blood. One who has of their blood been forsaken. One who has, anew, their blood come to know. They shall be protected as of old by one who will bare tools of old, and in ancient vestment shall he be dressed!" She exhaled with a long painful breath that rasped with blood.
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Alexandra Edgaria Poeschkina wrote:
I deem it likely that the 2 different dungensia species you perceived may as a matter of fact be the same species of mushrooms at different stages of its life cycle.
Did you know ... So, you like shrooms?
Hue was fading fast and although Alex was good enough to think-talk to him he answered aloud, "Tha's interesting ... same species ... never though' abou' tha' ... should check the basil bulb and mycelial threads ... phase spiders (head bobs and snaps up only to begin drooping again) ... horrible ... I heard bluecap's good against palsy and certain diseases against the nerves ... and ... (big yawn) firelichen wrats mashed with a tincture of powdered silver is good against quinsey ... like? ... jus' my life's work." He didn't catch he mild teasing.
con:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4Well frig - is that upped to level 2? cha:1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10Well double frig - (edit) another madness trait it is! I'm hoping for hysterical blindness this time
Hue woke in a cold sweat after one of the worst sleeps he's ever had and yelled out "Whi'e and red dungensia are jus' pygmywor' and bigwig!" He sat there wondering with dark circles about his eyes "How many of the seven species I've discovered are already common knowledge???" He looked at nightlights and thought they looked a bit like Grottoria Huemiculous Lux Invertensia. His face turned grim.
Aloud but really to himself, "How am I supposed to know withou' my book. No book. No maps. No cartography tools. They jus' took them."
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
Seeing Prescious circumspection. Hue spent some time looking over the mushrooms and tried to identify the ones rich in iron from the ones that provided more protection from illness from the ones that might set up a home in your intestinal tract and start selling lots.
kn nature:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
He blathered on in his head as he did so, but in a way that was easy to half block-out and hard to listen to clearly, ::Technically, I'm a student of the-world-of-fungi, but (slight yawn) my REAL passion lies in the spore bearing fruiting-body of fungus, or the myriad variety of mushroom known ...
Hue goes on and on:
... and, well, unknown. It has always been a dream of mine to discover new varieties. I don't know, it's like adding to the world when you discover something new.
It wasn't, and then suddenly, now it is!
Or as my half-brother's uncle was fond of saying, 'Better claim it before someone smart figures it out on their own.' To date, I think I may have discovered seven new kinds of mushroom, and not all conforming to the regular morphology.
I found mushroom from each of the five basic categories: plant partners like your basic chanterelles and truffles, helping other plants collect water and fight off disease, all for a little bit of sugar.
There's 'bandit mushrooms' that get greedy with the sugars, like lion's head, or changa, and eat the other plant up.
There's your 'decay-lovers' like the basic button and gnome's cap.
There's your 'far raiders' that have 'partner' and 'bandit' qualities. They're pretty rare.
And, lastly, 'phasing'. My guess is white dungensia minisculius hueorum and the red dungensia rebiglius maddylii are of this variety.
... so that's two barrelstalks, seven bluecaps, and two waterorbs. Shame, the waterorbs are healthsome bladders of moisture ...
One thing that these types all have in common is a really short fossil record. You just can't find evidence of these 'shrooms very far back. You see there's a lady by the name of Permiana Whishus thinks that mushrooms came to us on the back of a falling star.
There's a whole variety of 'shroom, generally called 'dreamer mushrooms, that can give people lucid dreams, little 'trips'. Some use them to find hidden wisdom. Some people just like tripping. Anyway, guy named Zaurellius ... something ... has been studying where people go when they, well, trip.
Seems a lot of these people find themselves floating through space feeling like they're communicating with space people. Couple that with Miss Whishus' ideas ...
... and this led Zaurellius to the belief that mushrooms were actually messaging capsules from outer space ...
Hue adds yet more information:
... I find that a tad off. If the dreamer's mushroom is communicating anything to the dreamer it's the space inside their own head. Really, I think that's just big city talk.
... three nightlights, four Nilhogg's noses ... hmmm, nilhogg is almost goblin backwards ... four ripplebark, oooooh, and a tinmask...
When i' comes to mushrooms their's two types of city talk:
There's wide-eyed talk of space mushrooms and how fungus can bring skeletons back from the dead.
And there's narrow-minded farming talk that will try to convince you the corner store only carries portabello, cremini, oyster, and shiitake because those are the only mushrooms that ever existed. Don't make me laugh! They aren't even the only edible ones. What about Lion's Mane, or elf-ear, bearded hedgehog, golden needle, snow fungus, baby-bella, fairy-sadle, and mortician's button???
Why, there are four distinct spiecies of gnome's cap mushrooms alone! There's mustard, glower-blues, rustic-brown, and speckled (though you really shouldn't eat the speckled gnome's cap. I swear I won't do that a third time).
Actually, heha ha ha, funny story, gnome's cap mushrooms are kind of why I'm down here.
You see, I was top side making maps of popular cave sites when a group of persons came by with a party of others saying they're looking for a dwarven person of the female persuasion and did I see any of the like. They said this woman just wandered off without a word and they wanted to find this same person.
I tell you, I found this quite a sad story, especially seeing that the head of the search party, fellow named Aspaz, was having a birthday that very day. So I asked if I could see the missing missus things. You know, get a feel for who they were and the fellow said there was no harm as long as I didn't get into their private stuff.
... four torchstalks, six (no less) tongues of madness, and four trillimacs ...
You know what I found!? A recipe for risotto. What was one of the ingredients?! Gnome's cap. So I trudged off to half-a-dozen of the dankest caves thereabout's. Gnome's cap loves it dank with a bit of topside air. In the sixth cave I found evidence of a cave-in and some scuffed stone from what I took to be evidence of someone's gnome's cap collecting.
So I rushed over and didn't the floor give way. Well, yes it did! I was falling bonnet before boot 'til I found some ridiculously cold water. After was the drow, my escape, a lot of rowing with that crappy oar, then my finding you fine people ...
... and, finally, eleven bigwigs and seven pygmyworts ...
... and I never found tha' dwarf. I think I've finally come to the asiggnation that I probably never will::
Madison Kokko wrote:
::This seems like a safe enough place to rest. I can keep watch if some of you need to sleep before we return. Being down here messes with my sense of time and distance but I think we still have a long trek back::
::I'd do with the rest if no one minds. I can barely tell nightlight from torchstalk:: He passed the spear of warning to Maddy. Once the 'shrooms were sorted he made a bed of lesser lichen and slept as long as anyone let him.
The orcs did not remark at Tymythy's leaving but simply let him leave.
Prem twirled the two around as everyone on the dance floor became a huge whirlpool of motion. Zahra's gown belled out at the bottom with the vigorous exertion as the waltz turned into a show of wide grand movements.
Prem, "I'm from Ischolt, the southern-most country in Eotengarde. It's a very modern place but my people are a rural people. Luckily, my parents saw in me something a little bit more, and also worried that my curiosity (or my mouth) was getting me into trouble. They saved up enough to send me to one of the duelling academies in Sutence. I had a very good education there. Manners, geography, heraldry, world religions, some of the higher languages. I hope to make my name at court as an ambassador's advisor some day and pay my parents back."
The dance began to slow down and people prepared for the next musical piece, trading partners or repositioning for a folk dance or leaving the dance area for rest and refreshment.
Prem released his partner and made a little space, "I don't think I can monopolize your dance card." Seeing Tymythy nearby he bowed and nodded to the young man as he passed.
A woman came from the food tents. She was just more than five feet tall and had powerful bare legs. Her skin was lightly tanned and her clothes were similar to those the porters wore, except her's were golden yellow with details of red. She held a quarterstaff with a small purse tied to one end and went to the centre of the dance space.
One of the musicians yelled out joyfully, "THE BYGDYDANS!" and the other musicians (and a smattering of the crowd) returned with a hearty "HURRA!"
kn local DC14:
Bygdydans - just means 'folk dance' but this one is similar to Halling but for couples. People dance down the line with a partner and attempt to kick the purse at the end of the staff. There will be elimination rounds.
perform dance DC12:
It looks like a challenge dance not unlike one you've seen before - kick the purse and win the challenge
New dancers rushed to the dance floor, mostly young and fit guests. Some of Hallwyn's porters joined in. People started to arrange themselves into lines of two couples as one musician stepped in front with a mandolin-like instrument. She put two picks in their fingers near the knuckles and began picking. The music started quietly and then built up like it was going to crescendo but then dove back down. Music to get the blood up.
Dounia didn't feel watched from the eastern castle. Shull, Hermika, and Jacote hurried with Dounia out of the arena and into the oval hall that led to everyone's rooms. They moved counter-clockwise quickly, but avoided running, until they stopped at a painted door. A dramatic painting of the sun eclipsed by the dark moon.
Inside was a similar set-up that the Blackbird's had, an outer suite but with three doors to three rooms.
The triplets didn't sit.
Shull, "There was a woman in the western part of Brawdethal, that's one of five provinces of Eusabiona. Many said she was beautiful and had a stately manner. She was an artisan working in stone but very much envied the local merchant's wealth and influence. Her name was Shomyendee."
Jacote, "She made a bid to open a large shop and hired on a few apprentices, even though she was still young. She paid them little, worked them hard, and did well. Soon she was competing with the merchant in prosperity. Wherever she went she realized that both she and the merchant were at the mercy of the local tax collector. She decided on an alliance."
Hermika, "She and the merchant pooled their wealth and influence and had the tax collector ousted. Shomyendee quickly wheedled her way into the position and left the merchant in the cold. The merchant of course complained about double-dealing to the magistrate."
Shull, "Shomyendee pleaded her innocence and softened the magistrates heart. In a year ... they were married, despite a rather drastic age difference. When the magistrate died she used all of her status to take over his position. So she became the magistrate and had a great house, the tax collectors in her pocket, and a growing artisan's workshop."
Jacote, "It still wasn't enough. She yearned daily for more. One day, while she was inspecting her workshop, a round bellied man in lavender dropped in to make a purchase. He looked at the conditions of the shop. He seemed to know her mind. He prommised her he could increase her holdings five-fold. Her holdings, her wealth, her influence. She said she was listening."
Hermika, "She followed him to a decrepit manor she'd never noticed before, but inside it was this! This arena. He led her to the sub-basement of a sub-basement, to a room filled with treasure. For the first time she believed in his promise."
Shull, "He took her past treasure and coffer to come face to face with a mirror. He said, 'Ask for what it is you wish five times while looking in this mirror and you shall have it. And so she did. Five times she called out, 'fortune, holdings, status'. And when she'd finished ..."
Jacote, "He broke the mirror. It cracked into five even pieces ... and so did she."
Hermika, "Her wealth multiplied by five ... and 'she' became 'us'. We're Shomyendee. Each of us a fifth of her. We feel empty no matter how close we stay to each other. We fight all the time. The wealth and power is no bandaid. We just want to be whole again."
They stopped and stared at Dounia waiting for her to call them mad.
Her eyes widened in concern as she saw the state of the dwarves. Seeing one of them unconscious, she rushed over to them hoping that they hadn't experienced another damaging loss. Seeing their smiles helped her to relax a bit but her eyes glanced over at the unconscious dwarf, "Is everyone going to be okay?"
Guthan, "Don't be over-worried sweet child. Caydren will be fine. Not the first time he went under but he always does good work before he goes down, our Caydren Actreo."
Cairee (or anyone who speaks dwarven):
Actreo means: oak tree; Caydren means: ancient
Grownya supported Roshynduv and the dark haired dwarf stood up on a crutch built to take weight.
Roshynduv to Dounia, "Is that a Priovacrios? Where did you get it?"
Guthan to Zahra, "It's ok. When Guthan was lost to the game we knew we had to show our young ward what perseverance looked like. Now that we've done that it's time to show Duil what wisdom looks like. We came here for her. This was her invitation. We aren't so stubborn as to all be carried home in jars. This was our last challenge."
Grownya, "We're gratified to see you all came through well. We only saw your escape from the final passage but we'll be looking for the story of it later."
Guthan to Zahra, "Be careful of the portcullis door. There are four gates. You can pick which opens first. After that, if you don't make a choice in time, a second gate will open on its' own at random. Wether you've defeated your first foe or not. If you find where the secret is you'll have a choice of things to pick. Perhaps a sword, a scarf, a helm. When you pick one the other choices will 'go away'. When we did the challenge, the items were embedded in soft stone. When the orcs did it, the items were in glass on a raised stage. My wise money is on Perdition's Cavaliers (no matter how menacing The Adherents seem), but my heart's money is on you lot. Stay safe."
-
The dwarves looked across the arena. Through a grand display of arcane magic one of The Adherents was freezing the metal plate of the brass door as a second, with a great gesture, shattered it. The first approached the shield mechanism and seemed horrified. He called back to the leader and then marched to near the edge of the lake and shouted up at Hallwyn.
"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! YOU EXPECT MY MASTER TO INTERACT WITH THAT ... THAT SMUT! ... THIS WILL NOT BE BOURNE!"
He went back to his team as they discussed what to do next.
-
Guthan, "Yep, that team strikes me as a nasty bit of work."
Each team member must make a roll each round - no one rolls twice before everyone else has gone.
You must be trying to improve your teams situation (i.e. climb check to ascend the rope; con check to run fast; initiative check to be quick; str check to lift someone into the hall; etc) I will set the DCs. Be creative (give me a reason why a perception or knowledge check would be helpful and I'll use it).
Nat20 = you gain 2 progress points (PP) and loose 0 consequence points (CP)
Success = you gain 1 progress point and loose 0 consequence points
Failure by less than 4 = you gain 0 progress points and loose 1 consequence point
Failure by more than 4 = you gain no progress point and loose 1 consequence point
Nat 1 = you gain no progress point and loose 2 consequence points
Your consequence number starts at 10
Your progress number starts at 0
Get your progress to 10 before your your consequence number hits 0 or there will be !consequences!
Bad news = Dounia's failed DD roll costs the team 1CP
OK news = Zahra's successful climb gives 1PP and costs 0CP
The light from the candle was small and orange on their faces as the three drank thin beer and showed their anxiety to each other. They had been silent and watched the bar around them for people glancing too long or sitting too close, but the soup couldn’t be nursed any longer.
The half-orc woman spoke first.
”Well old man? I got you this far. Are you going to tell me what I’m really getting into?”
A man of nearly sixty, huddled deep within his slowly drying cloak, had come to the deciding place and nodded.
”You were magnificent. By my count we would have been finished three times over without you. Your fee is already earned. Knowing that, I wonder why you’re continuing this path. Future nights promise harder beds, crueler roads, and you can see how light my purse has become.”
He slid final payment softly across the table and she pocketed it without counting. She answered her true answer as she fondled the blade guard of her long-handled hatchet.
”I don’t like being screwed with. The healer from the east was my job and she escaped my watch. I have a contract to fulfill. People can think what they want about me, sit in judgement about how I live, but I see things through to their ends. Anyway, I don’t like being screwed with.”
The corner of the old man’s mouth pulled up and back.
”Our meeting is the best fortune I’ve had in a month. My apprentice and I are headed next to the settlement of ‘Aydi’kathira and then on to Aikbir’sinana.”
The half-orc woman shook her head in disapproval.
”What, with that whelp at your side. He’ll be dead from mountain fever before we summit, and just how many winters have you seen, old man? The pass has too many of ’their’ people and the quiet way is haunted by the souls of dead pilgrims. I have brought you this far but I will only lead the healthy to the west.”
The young man wanted to argue but he couldn’t without lying, and he didn’t want to lie, not to these two who had given him so much. Once they got to civilization he would more than prove himself but out here, in the wilderness, he was little more than an extra back and an extra mouth.
”Master, I will go with you wherever you ask. You have led me from my old life to one of truth and meaning. But the map says this is the last stop before weeks of mountain travel. Shouldn’t we stay and get a proper rest?”
The old man put his hand on the shoulder of his student.
”Just keep it safe and don’t worry.” He looked to the woman. ”We won’t be taking the pass or the secret passage. We’ll be in ‘Aydi’kathira in the late light of tomorrow. I have my own charge to deal with and I can’t take forever to get to it. I do have a favour to call in.” He leaned in and whispered quieter still. ”We go to see The Ga’ba’ra’ka.”
The young man showed no sign of recognition. The woman, however, pulled back to the far extent of her seat and her face, a living record of bravery in contusions and creases, for the first time in months looked afraid.
”That Heretic!”
The old man didn’t flinch.
”Yes. Don’t cling to old tales. She is ,,, mostly harmless. To me by promise, anyway. And remember. People call me heretic too now.”
The young man put a long package on the table and tightened the leather straps around the canvas. They finished their beer and went back out into the night rain. As the door closed behind them, the sign of ‘The Last Eyrie’ could barely be seen by the swinging oil-lamp light.
<edit>
The half-orc woman called back to the old man as they walked. The wind did its' best to tear her words to shreads.
"You didn't really answer my question about what's going on!"
Stout Halfling Ranger lvl5 | AC 16/18 (st leather/shield) | HP 37/46 | Init +4 | P. Perception 12, P. Insight 12 | Exhaustion lvl0/Madness lvl3 | Inspiration: 1/2, Superiority dice: 4/4, Prim Aware: 1/1, Hunter sense: 2/2 | 14 arrows/18 bullets
When they started back Hue mumbled. Hue mumbled more than usual. Hue mumbled a lot.
"'You mus' be careful.' We'll tha's obvious. 'Something evil stirs in the Underdark.' I think I go' a grasp on tha' two. 'The rock itself cries in pain and horror,' hmm, either tha's poetry for the 'soul' of the natural world, like, or there is more of a specific consciousness near here?"
"'and a madness creeps from the blackes' depths.' 'madness' and 'creeps' could be more poetry bu' i' also sounds like aberations. We've had a share of dealing with those already."
"I sure could use a spo' of tea."
"'Pay heed to the signs surrounding you.'" Hue looked around him suspiciously and then went back to mumbling.
"'A cave with two faces.' Could be rock shaped like faces or two things, two monsters, in the cave." He paused meaningfully and touched his fingers together like he was doing math. "Or a cave with a monster tha' has two faces"
"'Rock devoured, and the land overgrown.' Sounds like moss or mold kinda, hmm, wha' eats rock. Lava. Some acids. Water drills. Is there Fraking!? Do you Frak down here."
"'The pebble believes itself flesh.' No. No clue there, and, 'The earth rejects i's wards and the tunnels shake in fury.' Are there seals and wards down here? Are there clerics to talk to. I suppose we jus' did. What abou' rangers. Oh, I could go for a good map. I sure do miss my cartography tools. Really, the only thing I miss. Tha' and my ha'."
"'By these portents,' Holy these are jus' the porten's. '... you shall know if evil's presences and of evil's face.' So maybe theres one leader to all of this or is this a poetic, a metaphorical face??? It all feels like we'll know wha' we're looking a' when we see i'.
"Hey, Guys! I think we migh' be facing an intelligen' mold with two heads that mines using pressurized water and dubious ecological standards."
Cairee's diplomacy w the rat:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27 fey knight will save vs DC24:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12 goblin's will save vs DC24:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13 ogre's will save vs DC24:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7 shadow panther's will save vs DC24:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12 knight - fey battle:1d20 + 7 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 7 + 4 = 22 Giantess - fey battle:1d20 + 7 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 4 = 30
Cairee couldn't fathom the strangeness of the rat's appearance. There was no sense to it and that in itself was an answer. Something was toying with her - something powerful.
The rat, which was the size of a small dog and nearly that of the goblin, looked up at her and bolted for her.
Cairee Featherfriend wrote:
... feeling honour-bound to protect it during it's too-short life. "What's your name, friend? Where did you come from?"
To Cairee the rat had a voice like a dwarf with a horrible cold.
if you can speak rat:
"I want to be called nightooth. Come from? I don't understand. This is all there is."
The rat, Nightooth, followed side-by-side with Cairee as everyone bolted to the door. Most were fifty feet from the open threshold when they could hear one of the fey knights summon enough presence to speak.
"Arrogance! You think you can face us in our place of power! Go back to the ether, Jenn-I! Give us these poultries to entertain ourselves with."
The giantess, "It is my entertainment that I am concerned with and I may be in your place of power but you are standing in mine."
(Do you risk a glance back?):
There is a river where none was before. It created a motte on this side of Gossamer House. It bends to wrap around the outside of protective stone circle. The attackers were either on the river's other side or standing in it more than ankle deep.
The knight, "But the water is frozen and the river is still."
(Do you risk a glance back?):
The river freezes over locking some of the fey inside but becoming crossable by others.
Giantess still dancing and loping forward in the manner of a wolf, "But the ice is thin and the river is deep."
(Do you risk a glance back?):
The ice cracks and those in it fall in to their chest. Shadowy cats and goblins begin thrashing backward and out of the river. They seemed to be trying to get back to the relative safety of the woods.
First, Cairee has a +2 on concentration rolls because of a trait. So her spell succeeds. I made some 'wild magic' rolls that were lost but here is the result.
Cairee tried to call out to Saiph but it was like the gods didn't have purchase here and something else, something capricious, answered. Where the concentrated storm front was meant to form over the nearing goblin's head a brief sparkle generated the form of a giant rat.
The rat fell on the goblin's head and they both fell prone on the ground as the goblin tried to pull the creature off its' face. Other goblin's pointed and laughed while yet more looked up checking to see if it would continue to rain rodentia.
GMs rolls:
fey knight will save vs DC24:1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15 goblin's will save vs DC24:1d20 - 1 ⇒ (7) - 1 = 6 ogre's will save vs DC24:1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15 shadow panther's will save vs DC24:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 giantess' dance check:1d20 + 34 ⇒ (12) + 34 = 46
The strange giantess took two steps forward from the gate and then began to dance. She interlaced her fingers, crouched low exposing her right calf forward, and bent backward. As this happened she disappeared only to instantly reappear between the onslaught of fey and the attendants outside of the circle. She was only five feet away from Tymythy.
Everyone could hear Hallwyn's voice but he was nowhere to be seen.
: It is ok. I will keep them busy. Please head back inside. :
"That sounds incredible. Could you tell us more? I've never even seen a dragon, and I don't think I can even imagine it."
Nadj looked serious as he brushed his lap like he was dusting himself off and considered the young cleric.
”Few have and fewer could imagine. I could not do it justice in words.”
He got a look like he was about to tell a tale to a group of younglings as he stared into the eyes of each woman in turn.
”I was just the age to join in raids. My people then were desert people, you see. We had no crops and no land to put them on if we did. We weren’t the Ma’habwoo’alqitat (not translated by the magic of Gossamer House), the ‘Tabaxi’ as you say, who live on the mountain slopes. There were no low fruit-bearing trees or mountain streams. We scrounged and stole and fought for what we had.
”But our captain died and a warrior named Alafaah rose up and stood in his place. Alafaah was, to the end, as bad a soul as could be birthed. He took us on deeper and deeper raids, forced us to fight for our lives, to kill without need. He led us against people who could not fight and he set us against other bandits. He sparked a war between thieves that would blaze through the eastern desert.
”And in my youth I thought it was glorious! I didn’t know what glory was … not for another few days.”
He licked his lips like there was still food on his whiskers.
”It was in the year of the hawk and the beginning of deserts winter. Alafaah had us tracking an orienteering group. My brother, Mahjabwn, a tracker, was certain it was desert gnomes. ’Why follow these scavengers. They will have nothing.’ Alafaah beat Mahj’ so hard that some had to stay behind and tend him.
”Not me of course. I cursed my brother for a fool and marched to glory.” The regret was there but a little distant as was the memory.
”That is when the old woman appeared. She looked like one of those wind trackers, the Latronites but in a silver cloak, and she was standing in our way. She advised us not to go that way. A desert storm was coming. Alafaah laughed at her and approached. She said then ’The gnomes are out of your reach, Alafaah.’ She knew his name! She knew what we were after. We, all of us, stopped in our tracks.
”But not Alafaah. He bore his claws and loomed over the old woman. He lashed out!
”Now, I have seen Alfaah fight! His name means viper and he has earned it! But that day he fell dead before he could lower his first paw. One of the older warriors said to me, he saw the old woman strike Alafaah as many as six times. I could hear from a distance the breaking of his bones. With mine own ears.
”We other warriors turned and began hiking back, and with haste. No matter how vigorously we marched the old woman was behind us, just a few yards behind. What would she do to us should she catch up?!
”That is when the storm hit. That is when we found out what she would do!
”You see, this old woman could have caught up to us at any time. Killed us as easy as she did Alafaah. She knew the storm was coming. When the sands struck we thought it would be our deaths just as well. But the sands stopped, all was black. One of us, Alhawow the hunter, risked lighting a torch … miracles!
”We were under a pair of great leather wings, so large they could have encompassed a wagon and horses. Behind us a wall of scales. We wondered and trembled in fear and praised our saviour. I chanced it. So young, I reached out and touched the scales, touched the belly of Silimiel. He was cold as ice and as hard as corundum. Every scale a great white ruby. We seven warriors stayed like that for hours as the dragon weathered the storm for us, until, exhausted, we slept.”
”When we woke the great one was gone. An old woman’s tracks led away from our spot, our crater of sand with a rim eight feet high. We went back to the others and abandoned the desert to look for work in the city.”
We have not discussed any scenes that might involve sexuality. I don't want to invite anything into the game that people find embarrassing or triggering. Please use whatever means you like to alter any part of the game you find unsafe. Please provide a safe space for people to say no to any part of our play that doesn't provide safety.
You can private message me or write in the discussion section. You can also use:
rewind - we will take the game back to a section before an event and take another path
stop - stop the game before we go in what you feel is an unhealthy direction
pause - put an element of play on hold until we've had a chance to discuss it or people have had an opportunity to think it over
change the channel - action happens discretely off screen
recast - take one element of the game and replace it/add another (if you don't like spiders then all of a sudden you're fighting poisonous lizards)
The porters for Zahra, Tymythy, and Cairee believe in free love and will offer an opportunity for anything you are up for. Hesitance or a no and they will not mention it again. They don't believe in pressure or obligation. All of the characters seem inexperienced and it feels like an interesting clash so I don't want to shy away from the story line, but it it up to you. The writing opportunity is there. Take it where you like. Don't go there if you are uncomfortable.
If you find it disturbing then I'm very sorry. This should have been something I discussed when we first started playing. Please use the stop command. I accept any boundaries you want to put in.
"What are the old buildings down there? And how long has that door been there, the one we're going to?"
Still perched on Zahra's shoulder, Wegbrayda began to sing. As she sang the others joined in, one after the other. The women began the lines and the men answered.
"It started with a second sun (a white light and heatless sun),
The sun it formed a silver ring (a thin banded glowing ring),
In the band another sky (a dark night and starry sky),
Like a great hole with our sky gone (stolen by the heatless sun)"
"Inside the ring appeared the land (of stone and earth a floating land),
Like a city far over our heads (our frightened and bewildered heads),
We could hear faint shouts and screams (far away those desperate screams),
The land it then began to fall (at terrible speed upon us all)"
"It drove deep into the ground (the soft fertile and verdant ground),
The landfall did a crater make (a fist of gods this crater make),
Upon the land a city found (a shattered broken city found),
The ring shrunk down 'til it was gone (no sign or scar the ring was gone)"
Then it was just Wegbrayda alone singing.
"But we survived and thrived again,
as before so we again,
And sing our songs to tell our young,
So they may know what the sky has done."
Maywyrt, "That song is five times one hundred years old."
A pause.
Gayers'hoppa, "But the door appeared about seventy days ago. Yeah. Just about seventy days."
Zahra delays her initiative to just before Tymythy
Unable to fly away and knocked off balance from Zahra's snowball attack, the manticore yelled as Tymythy and Dounia worked in unison. It writhed and tried to lash out as it received wound after punishing wound.
"KILL ... EAT YOU ... MY KINGDOM ... I TOOK IT ... MINE, MINE, MINE ... EAT YOU ALL ... SPIT YOU OUT!"
Zahra held back and watched as Tymythy sunk his spear between the creature's ribs at it's breast and Dounia, using Tymythy's distraction, slashed her right handed dagger along it's inner hind leg and opened up the main artery.
The manticore fell sideways, dead.
Slowly, like torches being lit, fey began appearing.
Akdrens, "Humph! I could have done that. If you didn't keep getting in the way."
Maywyrt, "In your way! Well it's good something gets in your way or you'd be flying straight into the things' throat."
Akdrens flew over and rested on the carcass of the manticore, "I would choke it from the inside and then, maybe, build a little parlour in there."
Maywyrt, "You'd be a tiny pile of faerie bones like the rest!"
Several of the atomie joined Akdrens and began striking victorious poses.
The half-elf and half-grasshopper woman flew and hovered in front of Tymythy, "You made short work of that. What do we call you? ... Wegbrayda, what are you doing?!" Other Grigs, some seemingly male and others female, flew about Dounia, Cairee, and Zahra.
Wegbrayda grabbed some of Cairee's hair and pulled it up, "Look at this here! She calls out to the exemplars of the Seraphim but she has ears like a human woman." The cleric could feel the flutter of the grig's wings beating the air near her eardrum.
Dounia dove for cover and landed herself in soft wet soil. She pushed herself against a large overgrown stone to see herself covered in red mud. Crit success - minor cover against scent
The sky creature landed maybe two arm-spans away from the others (maybe 10' in front of Tymythy). Soft earth splattered upward and roots snapped beneath its' weight. Zahra addressed the manticore (for there was no mistaking that a manticore was what it was) and the creature roared such a roar as to be heard from anywhere in the crater. Spittle flew ten feet at the three of The Blackbirds standing before it. The grigs and atomies took that moment to disappear again, perhaps to follow the example of the hedge pig.
It manticore had the body of a massive lion, a bat's wings of such a length as to support the creature in flight, and a great mane of orange brown hair. The creature's face was that of a man with skin like a thin lion's hide. Its' mouth was a wide maw housing row upon row of teeth. It was many time larger than Tymythy had earlier suggested. (10' in length and weighing around 1,000lbs)
When the creature finished its' roar it regarded the three and raised one eyebrow, "Aren't you atremblefied?!" His voice was thick and full and his words came sharply like they had been shredded by his infinite teeth on the way out. "If I had been transformated to be you and you me I should be so atremblefied as to be making my hair fall loose." He paced a moment and considered this. "This is not naturaviour. I am to appear, you become atremblefied and run away, then I chase you down, eat you one by one, then cough out your bones. You are ruinating my favourous part. This is rageous!"
He paced right and left as best he could in the tight jungle, "... And you have the nerve to start by placations for favours. I am not in the giving vein today! Not when you don't have the sense to frightambulate when I show myself."
The manticore lowered his head. When he brought it up he drew in air through his long nasal cavity. "I smell you, you flits and cricks! You cannot hide from my scentrackating." He smelled again. "Mmmm, and to top it all off there is another of you humanids! Rageous upon rageous! Well, I'll just have to eat you all where you stand and after I'm done then perhaps you'll have the rumintemplitiveness to frightambulate!"
Cairee - 18 seconds have passed sense you cast your spell. You can do other things but you can't spell cast. If you get wounded you'll have to make a concentration check. Imagine yourself developing an incredible sense of focus on the manticore. Please double-check the spell and tell me what it looks like.
The Teams:
The Adherents of Aureolus - scholars from the far north
The Bonds of Gruumsh - high plains orc family group
The Blackbirds The Hazard-Guard - volunteers of Her Majesty's guard
Perdition's Cavaliers - elite knights of the far north
The Sisters of the Silken Scroll - adventurers from the east
The Steelheart Twins - brazen warriors
The Warriors of Dun Leummor - battle group from the north-east
The dwarves of Dun Leummor had continued to examine the doors and were joined by other parties. The Hazard-Guard had run about gathering whatever information they could and continued to until the last possible moment. The Bonds of Gruumsh orcish team and The Sisters of the Silken Scroll searched about as well. Lady Shiply and Sir Pellius had broken away from their team to examine the gates.
The Steelheart Twins walked about but they seemed to be watching what everyone else was doing and copied them a little here and there.
Occasionally, opposing teams or team members would meet in front of a door and give each other a deep appraising look. The orcs and the dwarves met in front of the portcullis arch and broke into a shoving match briefly. Both groups realized they had to make a choice: fight now, or compete. Sir Pellius (of Predition's Cavaliers) greeted The Adherents with civility.
Cairee - are you making any attempt to conceal yourself? If so please discribe how.
The group who were calling themselves The Adherents of Aureolus were all gathered at the step however, and looking a bit smug.
After The Blackbirds took a quick run about the lower bowl they could see several of the contestants gathering at the top of the south staircase. Tandyraman was waiting patiently.
