Strandel's page

Strandel, having several days to recover from his bizarre ordeal with the Cucurai in one of the Organization's medical facilities, made a big appearance ay Eruander's forest getaway camp. The satyr cordially greets Rollo, Azzim, and Terex. From a distance, the satyr bard saw Lady Lyra and Arlo arrive. The dwarf and Strandel locked eyes for a moment. The jovial nature of Strandel's face fell when he recognized who he saw. Strandel absentmindedly rubbed his neck where Dream-Arlo stepped on it. The satyr, in a unique moment of clarity, decided wherever Arlo was in this plane; Strandel would not be at that location.

Strandel agrees. No jokes.

Using Fortune hex on Strandel, lasts 2 rounds - you get to roll again.

Break Reality DC 25: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

The satyr feels the mindhive reestablish. ::Oh crap..
Toric tries to assist GIFT.
Bend Reality DC 25: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

"Azzim. You're alright." The satyr said frankly.
Toric (Strandel) sheathed his sword and held his panpipe and began to play.
Perform (wind): 1d20 + 38 ⇒ (1) + 38 = 39

::If I gotta bleed, I gotta bleed.:: Toric says over the hivemind. :I got a decent regeneration. I'd rather bleed than lose my head over a girl::
Knowledge (arcana, loremaster, 1x/day): 20 + 17 = 37

My dad died over 20 years ago, and I'm still messed up by it. :(

Just so you know, I *am* very angry with you, Terexaltherin 'says' to the satyr as he flies towards him.

When he gets close, the little dragon darts into some cover, hiding and drawing his wand.

Eruander comments "Toric, something's going on, you've taken on reddish tint...: And it's visible, it seems Toric has absorbed a dose of the red liquid.

Knowledge (planes, Lore Master (Ex)): 10 + 13 = 23

Fu<k. I'm very sorry for your immense loss. Take as much time as you need.

Meanwhile, Toric notices a gargantuan, fiery-red praying-mantis-like-creature has followed him from the zone of love. It has an attractive, somewhat a humanoid head ... and seems infatuated with the earthy satyr... hovering a couple hundred feet above him and casting longing glances, it's claws look sharp and capable of draining blood however...

"Uh..oh!" The satyr say as he sees his destroyer. "Okay, darling. Why don't we just calm down." Toric casts calm emotions on the red mantis.

::GIFT baby. I don't mind this. This is gorgeous! But I wonder if everyone else in the hivemind is gonna see things the same?:: Toric ponders in the mental pathways.

So you saw liquids being moved around in Calm and Love, but I didn't see any in Fear... curious, Terexaltherin muses. We *could* try a song or two to see if there's any reaction. I could even try some thoughtsong. I can't help but feel there's a secret to these liquids and their motion, though...

.."Music?" Talk of his other passion appears to have woke Toric from his 'lovebug'. "Yeah! Sure! What do you want me to play? A dirge? A funky bossanova? I know all the love songs..!"

Toric called out to GIFT. "That just means I got lots of experience, baby. I got lots to teach, girl."

Still heady from the love/lust fuses, the satyr speaks into the hivemind. ::Damn girl! I hate to see you leave, but love to see you go! Whoa mama!::

Toric chuckles to himself. "..zone of love.. hehe..".

"Sure. The Love Zone sounds like fun. I wonder if I could use my memories as seed for a Zone of Lust?" The satyr thinks aloud.

::Eh. Let's not be too hasty.:: Toric says in the hivemind. ::I'm gonna check it out. Cover me if you wish.::

The satyr casually walks up and begins to peruse the wares offered.
Perception: 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (12) + 26 = 38
Appraise: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (13) + 16 = 29
Toric grins to himself, witnessing Azzim taking the lead as 'group face' and doing one heck of a job.

[dice=Intelligent Check DC 21]1d20 + 4 = 5

As always, this stuff is above Toric's (Strandel's) pay grade.

[dice=intelligence check 21]1d20 + 8 = 28

Rollo smiles.
The images that Azzim and Gift have of the ancients seeding the planes could be used to designate the information the party seeks...

Just so we're clear, Strandel's Nat 1 make it possible for Rollo to get his Nat 20.

Intelligent Check DC 21: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
As always, this stuff is above Toric's (Strandel's) pay grade.

Fort DC 22 (Last Round): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30
After this second channele energy attack, Toric shakes off the sickness of the yellow cloud.

Toric flies closer to the yellow cloud and gives another channel energy.
Channel Energy: 6d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 3, 4, 3, 3) = 18

Toric again follows Azzim's lead and lets loose another channel energy.
Channel Energy: 6d6 ⇒ (5, 6, 5, 2, 2, 4) = 24

Fort DC 22: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16
Toric hacks up some phlem while in the cloud.

"Oh!"
Seeing Azzim channel his energy, Toric follows suit.
Channel Energy: 6d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 2, 4, 1, 5) = 16

Round 1
Toric (Strandel) floats above the world below, unsure how to help. With all the electricity flying around, the satyr thinks twice about unsheathing his metal rapier.
Instead the bard takes out his panpipes and begins to play. Toric will begin a bardic performance Fascinate (Su) when the monstrous forms get within 90 feet.
Up to three targets. Will DC 23 negates.

Does Resist Energy: Electricity stack. If not, Strandel already has Resist Electricity 10.

The Treant Eruander, has been slowly compiling a series of notes in his own language, written on tree bark. Donning spectacles, he reads them in careful tone:

Notes:

::Where are the Cucurai from?: "A holographic dimension". It's not necessarily the beginning of time in 3+1 dim space but the beginning of time reminds them of it. How do we "find" it? Maybe <Shimmer> can find it. Maybe they know. Maybe we would have to go to the beginning of time but I believe that would be difficult.

How did the Cucurai arrive here?: They were apparently summoned by the Umlat through a strange ritual - I am guess Umlat controlled them by promising them a way back.

How was "The Book" created?: Apparently *someone* persuaded the Cucurai to compile a list of the 200+ planes that the Umlat "seeded". Some number of these have already been destroyed by the Dark Traders (40+), some have been saved (30+) and the status of many is unknown. Gift has a partial list of new planes already (that would be good to report to The Organization).

How was Vranack and the planar foam we've been walking through created?: By the implosion of Umlat's project at the end, in the same fashion that the area of Cucurai.

Would the Cucurai leaving this area threaten the village?: It's hard to know but maybe not. The village area was stabilized during the disaster by the light spirits, who essentially now watch over it. This possibility might be discussed with them.

How many worlds are at risk? The Umlet definitely seeded 200 planes. Their final project was seeding 40,000 planes but it's unknown if that succeed. Perhaps the Cucurai know? Perhaps the Cucurai know which those worlds were.

How many Cucurai?: There were maybe 20-30 in your dream-meeting. Leander might know and some of the villagers who've been to their area might know.

How can we communicate with Cucurai?: We can attempt to do with directly imagining images but it seems to be challenging. Leander has apparently studied methods of communicating with them. Also, <Shimmer> communicates using images and so may be able to translate to the Cucurai for us.

He clears his throat with a sound like hallow tree.

[b]::So, at the minimum, we need to speak to Leander, possibly recruit him to the organization but at least get his aid. Also we could speak Denish about the numbers of Cucurai and to Glasthus about the fate of Vranack. After that, we proceed to the land of the Cucurai and make our offer.

::By The Fey Dawn..!:: Toric (Strandel) said in the hivemind, amazed by the information already gathered. Then his thoughts became aggressive.

Toric's head swims with the possibilities needed to complete the mission.
"I think I need an extra large margarita or a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster..!"

Feel free to ask any plot questions here. It's getting complicated and I'll try to put plot summary at the top soon.

Well, a lot of this stuff goes over Toric's (and quite frankly, the player's) head, but he's here to help. So he'll help any chance he can get. Strandel is always fine with sharing the spotlight or getting out of it to let others shine.

::Yeah. I'll help too, if I can.:: Toric shrugs into the hivemind.

Toric squints to see GIFT descending from the bright sky and also the info dump in the hivemind.
"Sounds like you've been busy", the satyr comments when the elan sets down.

Toric lays on his back still searching the heavens.
::So..? Does anyone need some help? Particularly up in the sky? I had an orgy with several adventurers, since Gift and Rollo took to the skies! What's the holdup?:: The satyr pleads into the hivemind.

Toric waiting a good long time for the psychic and the sorcerer to return from the sky decided to multitask and lay in the sun and sunbathe. The satyr patiently laid in the sun until his teammates returned.

Toric looks up as GIFT ascends, eager to find out what she found.

Drogo, the Dwarf chatting with Strandel, nods, "Sure, after fifty or sixty years, some people get bored and wander back to Gamjee Town, which is convenient 'cause some number appear wanting to replace them... I think only about three quarters of our plots are occupied now, thankfully. I shudder to think if we ever had competition for space. Escaping that is what we're here for, my goaty friend. And revelations has be challenging, my friend."

"Ah! See, Drogo. That is the exact reason I cannot stay", Toric explained, after licked the ear of one of the ladies on his arm.

Toric, completely at ease with a female in each arm. "So you have seen people leave the village to go elsewhere, then?"
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (4) + 16 = 20

Toric mingles with the crowd, getting compliments from his performance. The satyr works the room, asking questions about their days to day, why many choose to stay here, and the general environment.
Diplomacy (gather information): 1d20 + 43 ⇒ (13) + 43 = 56

Toric has a seat of honor in the inn, on a small raised deius. The satyr begins with some beautiful serene music scapes, playing more lively fare if requested.
Perform (wind): 1d20 + 38 ⇒ (10) + 38 = 48

"I would be happy to entertain this evening, Peter" Toric smiles as customer service mode kicks in.

"Thank you very much, good sir". Toric walks over and takes one of the offered ales, chilling it with prestidigitation before drinking.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 43 ⇒ (15) + 43 = 58

Reflex: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (11) + 14 = 25

Toric bristled. ::No thank you. It's not cold iron, but cold showers are just as bad! Yuck!::

Toric looks on, impressed, slightly aroused, and fearful.
::Yeesh! Everyone please feel free to remind me not to piss GIFT off in the future!::

"Second verse, same as the first!!" Toric shouts brazenly. "Fuçk off!!"
Alignment Channel: 6d6 ⇒ (6, 6, 5, 1, 2, 3) = 23 Will DC 23 for half damage)

Perception: 1d20 + 26 ⇒ (7) + 26 = 33
Knowledge (planes): 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26

"Ware deceiver spirits!" hissed Azzim to Strandel, "They're picking up on your surface thoughts." He knew Gift wouldn't agree but this could be much worse, some folk had the most disturbing psychies. Yes Strandel was obsessed with fortification, yes that was often unwelcome but the old goat was far from malicious.

To Leander Azzim replied, "I think I agree, resistance and restraint is best. This isn't a safe place to indulge ourselves... They want to learn about us I think. I'm fine with that as long as the exchange is fair and equitable. Lets push on."

::I know. I know. One second.::

As the clearly faux-GIFT jumps into the satyr's arms, Toric and the deceiver spirit begin to passionately kiss, as the bard's hands clamp down hard on the duplicate's firm buttocks and squeezes hard.

::Okay. I'm done.::

In a flash, Toric uses an alignment channel to blast the deceiver spirit off him.
Channel Energy: 6d6 ⇒ (2, 1, 3, 5, 3, 1) = 15 (Will DC 23 for half damage)

Terexaltherin is glad that evading the wasps goes well. He's cautiously excited about the dream journey tonight.

Toric (Strandel), however, is the opposite. He's fey. He didn't need self-reflection. In fact, Strandel always avoided self-reflection as much as possible.

"Fu<k."

"Hmm. Usually 'garden of revelations' has a different connotation", Toric smirked.

Toric shrugs, also trying to identify the annoying insects.
Knowledge (planes): 10 + 13 = 23
Knowledge (arcana): 10 + 17 = 27
Knowledge (nature): 10 + 24 = 34

::Doesn't matter. My charm monster spell would have culled her. Who knows? Maybe redeemed her? Doesn't matter now. Let's f#cking go.
Toric cursed over the hivemind.