Memnon huffs
“Philistines. “
He swivels to look at Hamar and Justin
“A Dispel Magic will suppress the field for a bit. But it will snap back”
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Justin stares at the soft pastel glow and draws a blank. He hmms and strokes his chin thoughtfully while desperately trying to figure out something to say about it when the crystal creep pipes up “Fascinating! I haven’t seen anything like this since my days in Ranaïs. Necro-augmented chaositech. This mummy was a higher roller than I thought!”
"Ugh. Ive said it before and I'll say it again. Magic cleaning is no substitute for good old fashioned soap and water. pee-YEW!"
Memnon twirls in that odd way that signifies a shrug “I mean, there are a lot of uses. Alchemists can make all sorts of mutagenic masterpieces from it. There’s protection from petrification potions, anti-anti-magic potions (would that be pro-magic?), basically any spell effect that a beholder has, its ichor can mimic”
Memnon discusses the carboy full of Beholder juice “Well boss, the container has a glammer on it, some sort of specialized gentle repose spell I’m thinking. Some magewrights make containers like that when dealing with substances that spoil easily. However, the clock IS ticking. My advice? Find an alchemist and sell/trade it. It won’t maintain its properties long”
"Boss, these things have four eye rays! Fire, cold, electricity and petrification!"
Memnon zips about agitatedly “They are immune to acid, sonic, and cold. I think the only thing that might affect is that Giant deadly popsicle Karrin uses” Ferissirion growls, but it sounds more like the sound a dog makes when someone speaks their name
Memnon flies out from under Justin’s coat “You know, cleaning spells can’t take the place of an occasional shower boss…. PHEW” Considering the flying Winter Solstice ornament has no nose, Justin is pretty sure he’s joking He looks at the approaching abberation “YIKES! Heads up! That’s a flying polyp! If a wind elemental and a gibbering mouther had a love child, that’s what it would look like! They’re tough, magic resistant, and their flesh is not wholly in synch with our reality, so they are hard to hit! Merle, you’ll like this - they are vulnerable to electric blasts!”
Memnon twirls about, his orange hat tassel bobbing out “Judging from the lay of the land, the tracks Alessia noted, and the statistics of portal placement mentioned in Drubbish’s Legidarium Locus Portalaie, I think statistically the left path is our best bet”
"Guys! These things are Formless Spawn! They are literally the animated taint sweat off Tsathoggua's gnarly ballsack! Don't use electricity or piercing weapons against them! They are tough and heal fast!"
"You know, Beholder ichor is a prized ingredient in a lot of magical consumables. I mean ..." He looks at the large glass carboy, which looks to be holding a good couple of gallons in it "It's not like WE sucked it out of him"
The crystal skull’s knit hat bobs as he looks over Justin and Alessia’s shoulders “Beats me boss. Maybe it’s a kuato” Besides hissing, the goblin remains cowering in the corner. It looks as if it has had serious traumatic injuries in the past. Its hide looks like it is covered in healed burn or acid scars
“Hows about summoning something with big claws and whomping on them? Instead of celestial glow worms?”
The fire rays light spill around Memnon, making him a giant glittering mirror ball skull “Justin, you are such a trouble magnet” He sighs, dropping behind a metal rafter beam
“Whatever will get the job done, boss” The purple skull zips around agitatedly as the flame raven shrieks and beats against the abberant creature
Justin rises into the chilly grit-filled air. There are no clouds, just a dim sourceless light lighting up the undulating pale dunes marching off into the distance. As he gets higher, he sees a cluster of buildings in the distance. There are also some indications of other buildings in the distance, but it’s hard to judge how far away
He suddenly sees a small dot coming at him at speed. As it approaches, the purple hue and orange hat identify his wayward mimir sidekick. “Hey boss. There’s a village about 10 klicks ahead. Petitioners walking around. Look vaguely like typical desert folk. “
“Well boss, I haven’t been here in the flesh” Memnon snorts, his hat’s Pom Pom jiggling with his mirth “But I do know a bit about the landscape. This is what the sages call a ‘deteriorating plane’. At one point it was very active. There were a lot of gods and their petitioners that dwelt here. Then, something changed. Maybe some pantheons went out of fashion, maybe the moral ethos that sustained it became less popular among the primes. “Whatever the reason, Pelion became depopulated. Its realms dried up, its cities became uninhabited. Deities that were left moved to greener pastures. Chunks of the plane itself began to decay away or get pulled to other realms. Nothing is forever, even the afterlife. “ Memnon looks around at the cold desert scene “Now the plane serves as a giant burial tomb. The few deities that still operate here are concerned with death and secrets. They tend to be from older religions as well. There aren’t a lot of petitioners here, but those that are will be wary of strangers” Memnon hovers by Justin “As to our location, I would think that we’ll stumble on something fairly quick. The plane is getting smaller and smaller. I’ll take a look topside “ With that, Memnon zips straight up
Memnon answers Justin's question "Well Boss, I've never been to this plane. I've read a bit about it though. Ossa is the name, but some also call it Aquallor. It's big among the Olympian deities set, and the Elves. Eladrin live here as well" He bobs his skull over towards a winged elven looking cutter eating a plate of fried shrimp nearby "The water here is relatively shallow, most of it under 10 meters. Perfect for water-breathers who don't like the murky depths"
"That easy? I don't know seems kind of sus" Memnon shakes his crystal skull “You tieflennials and your crazy slang. “ He laughs “Besides, getting that circlet was hardly ‘easy’. We all trouped down to the Negative Energy Plane after you folks took on my old nemesis Thakhotis and scampered all over my former home battling Pelor knows what. Then you promptly forgot about it”
Memnon flys over towards Karrin “It’s even easier than that sweetcheeks. If that’s his skull we put that circlet on the skull on the wand and WHAMMO! No more skull. Thus, no more wand.”
Memnon zips over and takes a look “I saw similar things on Ranaïs, boss. That looks an awful lot like the control circlet for a Skeleton Warrior. I’m assuming the name is the poor berk whose soul is trapped in that thing”
“Sorry bossman, but I haven’t heard that name. Maybe the bloodsuckers have an atlas inside?” Memnon’s hat bobs gently, the Pom Pom swinging as he floats by Justin
Memnon coughs. The affectation is a strange one for a floating skull with no lungs “Boss, that looks like a sentient pile of junk in giant worm form. The stink is some sort of weak acid. I’d guess a construct of some kind, like an old war machine? I’d say hitting it with fire might do the trick, but it had better be hot!”
“Yeah it’s the door or climb back out”
Memnon flits about nervously “Boss, I haven’t heard anything. What should we do?”
“Awww do I GOTTA?”
You made a friend?
“Weelllll, so much for stealth”
Memnon looks at Justin “Meatbag, I can tell you what the source is. You got a dozen spell-casting mooks fighting you! I ain’t going in there. They can see, I can’t. How they do it don’t matter. You’re just guessing they sense life. Don’t assume things, you’ll make an ass out of you” The skull mutters to himself “I oughta write a complaint letter to his university for passing him along. Must have had rich and influential parents ...”
Nekrotheptis stands and smiles, drawing a scroll tube from his belt “The contract would be binding on those present. Their names would be on the contract, after all, not your lord’s or any other members of your company. So, in effect it is a favor from each of you.” The purple skull whizzes up to the proxy “Just a minute, tall dark and evil. Let’s talk Turkey. Lemme see that boilerplate you got going on there. “ The two of them examine the document. Anyone looking at it notes that it is a work of art in itself, one side hieroglyphics, the other is planar common. Memnon and him dicker and a few words are crossed out or rewritten, the document somehow subsuming the corrections into itself to remain pristine “Am I a signatory to these shenanigans?” The gabby skull inquires. “I am more of an independent contractor” The two haggle some more, and finally reach a conclusion. Memnon asks for a bit of privacy, and Nekrotheptis withdraws into one of the bedrooms and closes the door “OK, I got him down to three signatures. I can be one, I don’t mind. So that leaves two of you “
Memnon shouts a couple of word in Goblin at the door “No luck with those choices. Any other suggestions?”
Memnon scans the door while the party fights “It’s magically sealed with some sort of temporal stasis. There’s Goblin writing on the face ...” He pauses “Speak the word which warms the hearts of all true goblinkind”
Memnon looks at Justin “Looks like the spot. What now, effendi?”
"Weird that skulls aren't into skeletons," Karrin says waving Memnon away, "I mean if that were the case you'd think he'd be more interested in your bony butt Alessia . . . ahh, which is very . . . bony? Not sure what skeletons find attractive actually. You're the prettiest female skeleton I've seen . . . I think. Hard to judge these things. I'm a bit more used to seeing flesh on things." Memnon sniffs as he levitates just out of battleaxe range "I am NOT a skull. I am a crystal construct vessel for a spirit of intellect that just happens to be fashioned like one of your meatbag skulls. That was not my aesthetic choice. I enjoy the female form as I present as male. When I get the option to drive one of you around I always have a good time with women."
Memnon zips back “A few in the hallway, a few open doors with some in the rooms. I doubt they’ll be much issue. There’s a stairway door down the hall. “ The few close hallway Walkers approach Alessia:21
“You got it boss!” The crystal skull zips on your the hall, weaving around a couple of approaching zombies
“Pish. Like I care about zombies. What they gonna do, dribble pus on me?” The crystal skull zips over time the nearest Walker and rests on a deteriorating shoulder. “What’s cooking, Jackson?” The Walker attempts to turn its head to look at the skull, and the effort proves too much for its enervated tendons. There is a sharp *CRACK* sound and the Walker’s head tumbles to the brown-stained carpet of the hallway. The body collapses, but the group notices that the severed head is still moving its mouth rhythmically “BOOM BABY! I drew first blood!” The skull crows
"Thanks Memnon. Dangers of getting stuck in a rut. Forget to use the REALLY dangerous weapon. My Brain. I need options for the flaming dino-guy. IF we cant drag him to the water how can we extinguish him? Dispel Magic?" The skull coughs. Justin assumes he’s being dramatic because he doesn’t actually have lungs
“That looks like either a wild shape or some sort of polymorphic magic. Elemental Form of the Second Order might do it. I’m betting wild shape. If so, a dispel magic won’t do any good. It’s a supernatural ability. If you have ice magic in your noggin nows the time to unleash it”
Memnon looks a bit charcoally, his violet crystal shape smudged with a thick layer of soot “You think, boss?”
“The flying lizard is a flame drake. These Khaasta might have lizard pets in the swamp too. They like to spring surprises. Stay away from the water. Good news is if you wax these jumped up geckos they are nomads as a rule, so they likely have all their stuff in a wagon at the inn.” Memnon replies to Justin’s inevitable raised eyebrow “What? I’m being practical. It’s pathetic watching you count out greens at the apothecary for fresh bat guano”
Memnon huffs “I think you are once again knitting a magic cloak out of cobwebs, young wizard. “ The crystal skull says dourly “Imprimis, there was no WAY you read that contract in the 30 seconds you sliced your thumb and signed. I’ve SEEN those contracts before, and they are written in six-point font Infernal Legalese. Which, is fairly inscrutable to NATIVE Infernal speakers , which you are certainly NOT “ “Secundus, if you had just stopped and asked me for assistance, I might have helped, but as a practitioner of these sort of things should know, I was constrained by the Infernal summoning from volunteering any help. Devils don’t like nosybodies. Once you were in the contract stage you needed to ask questions or request lifelines DIRECTLY. Or, I don’t know, visit a LAWYER?” The skull zips around like a crystal mosquito “Your white knight complex has basically sold potentially three years of your life to some unscrupulous cutters. All Marconius has to do to get you out of the way is summon you to a beach on the Prime and task you to counting all the sand grains. A totally non-evil task, and you’re there for 366 days getting a tan” The skull sighs “Well, good news is, he likely will keep these coins as insurance. They basically mean that you can never act against him openly. People like that appreciate that kind of insurance. Arkhan is another story. I doubt he’ll use it any time soon, but Infernal royalty enjoy collecting favors like old ladies enjoy collecting buttons. They never know when a certain one will fit the task.” The skull seems happier when Justin mentions the Fallen Angel. “Now, that’s the SMARTEST thing you’ve said all day! Let’s go!”
“Justin, YOU LUNKHEAD! Have you never heard of HAGGLING! By all the forgotten gods!” The skull’s eyes blaze in the fog like twin beacons “How can someone so smart be so STUPID! Did you even ask to read the contract? He could of had it say anything! All you had was his word what was in it! Your nemesis!”
The purple skull bobs assent, his yellow/orange hat shifting slightly “Will there be dancing girls? Legitimate businessmen always have dancing girls in the books”
“If the banana fits” Memnon zips inside
Memnon leads the group along a narrow road that opens out into a small courtyard. He goes up to one door with a sign swinging by it with the legend: Rovuk Amethyst, Planeswalker
Memnon forms his ghost hand and taps on the door. An old woman’s voice rings out “Come in! Come in!” Memnon looks at the group. “Well? Can one of you monkeys be kind enough to open the door for me?”
Memnon huffs at Hamar “Dead wizard head? As if! Next you’ll be calling me a lawyer or Serial killer” He swivels towards Justin and grits his purple teeth “Do. Not. Touch. The. Hat” A translucent hand forms and gives Justin the finger Memnon seems to calm down a bit, using his ghostly hand to readjust his new knitted accessory “Give me some credit, O Purveyor of Parlour Prestidigitations. I never haggle, that is you meat sacks’ job” He makes a spitting sound as if clearing stray fibers from his mouth “The guides over here! Follow me!” He glides off, the Pom Pom at the top of the hat bobbing
Memnon zips around Justin’s head. “Well, dumdum here got his map from an old book so I’m assuming we’ll have to find a new guide. I’ll see what I can do. “ The party waits as the violet crystal skull flies off. He returns an a half an hour , his crystal skull now surmounted with an orange knitted cap “Well, good news, bad news,OK news, and AWESOME news. The good news is that there is a guide here that will take us to their city. The bad news is that the Earthborn are currently in a dust up with the Xorn collective. The OK news is that the main battles are off in the opposite direction” The skull pauses for effect “The awesome news is that I was gifted a cool hat! Look! It even has ear flaps and a string you can tie together to keep it on. Look!”
“NO NO NO! YOU NUMBSKULL!” Memnon zips around the sweating form of Justin as he wields a hammer with less and less enthusiasm as the day wears on “That dowel goes in the THIRD hole! Did you not read the instruction scroll? How did you ever become a wizard with your shocking lack of attention to detail?”
The party heads out into Copperman's Way and off to the Great bazaar. The giant souk has a little bit of everything, and the party spends a few hours picking up any basics that they need before heading out for more specific items
They head out into the rainy streets to try and find Blayze's Pistol first. They head back to Copperman's Way, as traveling through the Clerks Ward would mean they'd have to go through the Hive, and that's an easy way to bollix up a perfectly good shopping expedition. They travel quickly through the Lady's Ward, passing the Noble's District and the Court District without incident. The Temple District is jammed with priests and parishoners, mendicants and monks. They sidestep a raucous festival that seems to involve frogs and juggling swords. Entering the Lower Ward, they travel along the long sodden sybaritic boulevard known as alehouse Row. Even in mid Peak the jam-packed taverns cater to a druken horde. Gear Run angles off by the Great Foundry, the specialized shops proclaiming wares of a clockwork variety. Memnon zips down a side street and calls out "We're here!" Various shops with names like Flasbang Forge and Thy father's Gun line the quiet street. A few rugged looking cutters with holsters like Blayze's peer in the shop windows.
Memnon bobs in his approximation of a nod “In the Gear Run district there’s a neighborhood of gunsmithies. I can show you where”
Memnon whispers back “Considering that this bar is the kip of a semi-deity on a power level that probably pushes the boundaries of what the Lady allows near her city. Most folks think that’s probably why the Grey Angel prefers to stay up in their rooms on the demiplane. Less friction than if they were walking about the Great Bazaar”
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