Xiramona's page

Pre-fight action:

As they assemble in the hallway, Xira says, "No time like the present." She then holds her staff out in a warding gesture while using the first two fingers of the other to trace a line from her forehead down the center of her torso, speaking softly all the while. A line forms in the path of those fingers, made of the silver-gilt shimmer that seems to characterize Xira's magic now.

When her words end, the line flares and spreads to cover Xira's entire body, swirling and coruscating. The aura dims but does not vanish as nodes of light coalesce in a symmetrical pattern around her, front and back, then take on shape. Rectangular shape. 54 rectangles to be precise.

Xira grins to see a full array of harrow cards take up station at various points on her body, seemingly held together by faint, delicately swirling light. The cards themselves are translucent and shimmery, but still recognizable; she lifts her arm to see the Juggler hovering over her wrist.

He winks at her.

"Well," she murmurs as she pulls out and readies an oil flask. "That's a bit more striking, isn't it?"

Juuust before everything kicks off:

"I suspect you all know this," Phantrel says, "but while their teeth and claws are sharp, probably the biggest concern is that rats often carry disease. Not that I think we needed an additional reason to try and keep these ones at bay," he adds.

"Quite right. If you do suffer a bite, sing out!" Xira calls to her companions. "I have a spell that may prove helpful."

READY: Oil Flask

::Ohhhh let's go with the plumb, shall we? I didn't agree to this adventure only to be used as a fishing lure for a spikemouth, thank you~

::And I'm afraid vision alone is all that I might give you, Xiramona. But thank you for the carrier, and thank your friend: this shall be much better than riding in a sack or a pocket.

Of course Xira can't hear Rune, but Zenith's tart response gives her the gist, drawing a chuckle from her.

::Vision will be plenty, rest assured. And I will certainly pass your thanks on to Em along with my own. You look quite regal in your silken abode; I'm proud to have you adorning me. She chuckles again. ::Too bad I can't borrow Brilliance and change my garb to something that compliments you. The bit of smirk in her mental tone conveys that she's not at all serious about that last.

Xira joins the foray to the Vault in case the little automaton needs some persuading, but it does not. In the midst of wrapping and stowing the Courageous who have opted for the depths, Brimble returns to give them the unwelcome news that dead goblins apparently make first-rate chum for a voracious rat horde. No doubt the vermin will be all too happy to follow the appetizer of gobbo with a main course of ... us. Unless we give them some sharp persuasion otherwise. Sharp and final.

Watching Argatha sling Rune over his back, she snorts softly. "I was about to suggest flaming arrows, only to remember that yours won't burn. As for me, I'm afraid I don't have any offensive magic that will affect them, though I now have a better defense against the little beasts. I do have a couple of flasks of oil to contribute."

She turns to Colin. "Perhaps we can use your goblins-be-gone as rats-be-gone?"

::As for darksight.... a complicated question. It is more relevant that you do NOT have darksight. You would 'see' through me-- using your own senses. If there is no light where I am, you would feel that limitation moreso than I would. Clear?

::I think so. It sounds like 'seeing through you' will need a light source to be useful, unless I somehow acquire darkvision. Although ... can I use my other senses through you? Like hearing or smell?

"I uhh. I think he would have found the parting too much to bear, especially after being on his own for so many years."

"You're probably right." Xira runs a bit of the silk bearing Forgewise's note through her fingers, careful not to smudge the charcoal. "And I certainly don't begrudge him his leavetaking. It's just that'd I'd come to see him as a friend in an amazingly short amount of time." She chuckles suddenly and gives Colin a puckish sort of smile. "Though that seems to be happening a lot lately."

”Best to get bad news sooner.”

Xira's deft touch discovers what she'd really hoped not to. "You have a warm spot here where you were bitten, Brimble," she murmurs. "I strongly suspect an infection, and the disgusting state of that goblin's mouth means it could have inflicted several different diseases on you, some nastier than others."

She pushes a few stray strands of hair back from her face. "Part of me is inclined to get a dose of antiplague down you and send you straight back to bed, but that's probably not practical. So I need you to tell me how you and your shoulder are feeling, and to let me or Argatha know if you start feeling even a little bit worse. And drink all the water you can; we can refill your skin as much as needed."

Pre rest:

Post rest:

"Oh..." Xira picks up the golden note and reads it through. When she reaches the end, her tight throat and stinging eyes don't surprise her exactly, and yet.

"We knew him for only a matter of hours," she says softly. "I'm glad for Forgewise, but I still sorrow that I can't thank him or wish him farewell in turn."

Her smile returns at the sight of her scaly friend in his new scaly armor. You wear it well, Sir Brimble. The kobold rejected the honorific spoken aloud, but he's probably stuck with it in her thoughts.

Listening closely, Xira fits her friends thoughts in with her own ideas. "I too will miss having Altynbekh stalk the corridors, but unless we find him another source for the heat Forgewise provided him, there's just no way around that. I think Brimble's idea of setting him in front of the Courageous' door may be the best we can do, both for him and those who insist on staying there."

She rubs her forehead. "I'm coming up with a growing list of things we need to do, and securing the Courageous and dealing with the goblin threat are both near the top, but--" She gives Argatha and Brimble significant looks. "--we had best check your injuries sooner rather than later. We don't need either of you collapsing from fever."

Xira won't insist on checking immediately, but when she gets her chance:

Heal check on Brimble: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Heal check on Argatha: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Sleep. Blessed, rejuvenating sleep. Xiramona collapses into bed (with Zenith by her side of course) seconds after her watch is done and nothing, not murmured conversations, not vaguely bizarre and eerie dreams, nor even a distant, muffled boom disrupts her slumber...

...until Em cuts loose with her gleeful, nigh-maniacal cackle.

"Nmmph?" Bit by bit, she raises her head and opens bleary eyes to the sight of Em lifting a mushroom with nothing but the power of her will. Xira can't help but smile. She recalls the elation she felt when she cast her first light spell, and she's pleased to see the same kind of joy on her little little sister's face.

"Well done, Em -- owtch." The events of yesterday have taken their toll in soreness, it seems, but a little careful stretching at least has her ready for breakfast. Her first bite of mushroom and pickled spikemouth reminds her that she now has the same kind of small, useful magics available to her as Em does. Time to put them to use.

Xira grins at Em and Raka. "Remember when Da would use his hardwood shavings to smoke fish? Let's see if that works on mushrooms too." She calls up her memory of delicately sweet smokiness, then whispers a few words over her meal with a gesture that looks like scattering a handful of herbs. Her next taste has her looking a trifle smug.

"Much better. Would anyone like to try some? Oh, and Phantrel, I can clean up the armor Raka was wearing for your use." She sends another grin Em-ward. "Or Em and I can."

”Has anyone seen Brimble? Has he gone off scouting alone again?”

Xira pinches the bridge of her nose. "For the love of all, wasn't he the one telling us to go everywhere in pairs?" A sigh. "Well, I doubt he's gone far, and he does know how to take care of himself. Let's decide what steps we need to take today, and we'll keep an eye out for Brimble while we're taking them."

Since Brimble now feels well enough to be up and about, Xira asks Raka (and Em if she wishes), to return with her to the temple and ask Forgewise to set Altynbekh to patrolling the area when the automaton next returns for a water refill.

So simple plan: get to the temple safely, make her request of Forgewise, get back safely. Since she's using her light spell she's not trying to be super-stealthy, but she'll stop at each doorway to check what's beyond it. No problem if Phantrel and/or Colin want to come along.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

"I'll take Brimble back," Raka offers. "I can't do nothin' ta make ya feel better, but you're the only one who can't run away if somethin' comes back this way. So someone would need ta get between you an' it."

"Thank you, Raka," Xira says softly. Her tall friend has long had a protective streak in her for the weakened and vulnerable. Now, even without her new armor and sword, she radiates the confidence of a guardian to be reckoned with, seeming as well-matched with Bastion as Em is with Brilliance. She thinks back to Em's earlier words, "There is something there which won't yield, and that has always made me see you as safe," and Raka's own "If you had to get stuck down here... I'm glad I did too."

So am I, m'dear. So am I.

”If these gobbos are like my folk in any way, we don’t want to test those stairs until we’re all ready to fight. I’d trap the hell out of them.”

"I agree we should explore this area fully and prepare for a possible attack, double watches, traps etc."

Xira rubs the back of her neck. "I'm thinking that establishing whether or not there are goblins nearby may be as much as we can handle before a rest. As for traps..."

Her gaze falls on Colin's alchemy kit. "D'you think you might concoct some goblins-be-gone from what's in your box, Colin?"

With a weary sigh, Xira brushes her fingers across Zenith's cool, smooth surface. Searching the corridor, trapping the stairs ... any suggestions on either, Zenith?

Argatha gets to Brimble before she does, and Xira exhales a breath she didn't know she was holding to see his healing spell keep Brimble from tipping over the brink. Provisional relief, at least, that ratchets up a notch when he opens his eyes.

"One got away, so everyone keep your eyes open. They seemed ready to jump us in our sleep, so it's not like the critter knows anything new about us."

"It knows that two of our number killed three of its, and that we can call on Altynbekh to some extent." Uneasy, Xira scans the corridor in the direction the survivor fled. "Whether fear will keep them away or bring them back in force may be a coin flip."

"I think most of them came from the south. Someone should take a look and make sure there aren't more of them roaming around corridor down there."

She nods agreement. "So who should check the corridor, and who should carry you back to the dormitory?" Looking up at Altynbekh, she adds, "Perhaps we can persuade our metal friend to stand guard at the door."

Xira watches Brimble fall, horror and fury clearly mingled on her features. Frustration seeps in as she realizes she can't do a damned thing for him until after the fight resolves; she is not foolhardy enough to step into the midst of her better-armed companions, Altynbekh, and the remaining goblin. At least her powers brought the nasty little brute closer to their weapons.

And at least she can improve the lighting. She pulls the glowing sling bullet from her pocket and braces herself to sprint to Brimble's side as soon as she has a clear path.

STAND: Remove bullet from pocket
READY: Run to Brimble

Xira pelts around the corner just in time to see Brimble get bit, and isn't that wound going to need a thorough cleaning ... but first, deal with the gobbo who dealt it.

With her staff in her right hand, she extends her left, snaps out a few choice Thassilonian curses, and lets fortune-twisting energy flow toward the goblin like a shimmer of heat through the air.

MOVE: 30 feet
STAND: Cast Twisted Fortune

Xira gives Phantrel a nod and takes off, dodging around the beds, through the door and past Raka. Running toward the north-south corridor, she yells over her shoulder in clear Dwarven to the metal automaton still guarding the doors to the toilets. "Altynbekh! There are goblins by the mess hall, we need you!!!

If Altynbekh can only respond to Forgewise's instructions, then the yell is wasted breath, but at least it's something to try.

Having shaken Argatha awake, Xira brings him up to date. "Brimble is on a hunt for what sounded like goblins. He needs backup with dark vision; head for the mess hall, as quietly as you can."

She then goes to Raka's bedside and repeats both shake and update, minus the darkvision of course. "Take the light when you're ready; I'll follow as soon as I've woken Phantrel."

Yes, Brimble said only one more, but Xira thinks it prudent to have someone with dark vision, a light spell and a blade on their guard in the dormitory, just in case. If nothing unexpected happens, Xira will nudge Phantrel to wakefulness while Raka rises and readies herself. "We may have a goblin problem. Keep an eye and ear peeled here, no knowing how many there are."

"Actually, he saved me once already, even before the business with that living shadow."

Now what is this tale? Xira doesn't ask, but she resolves to get the details from Em tomorrow. Or later today, whichever it is.

Perhaps an hour into their watch, Xira becomes aware of a noise. It sounded like a small impact... then a shrill voice exclaiming once, shortly, and then quickly falling silent.

Xira stands, her left hand shifting from Zenith to her staff."I just heard something," she whispers to Brimble. "In the cross-corridor between here and the mess, I think. Sounded like a goblin either falling or running into something."

Might not look like it, but I was choosing the smaller risk with better odds of success, most of the time. You folks have a lot of useful skills… just not sneaking around in the dark. I’m real glad Forgewise is gonna kit me out though...” He points a claw upwards. ”Otherwise, I’d have to rob some dead goblin. And I’m like to catch a disease from wearing their armor. Dirty lil' buggers.”

Xira chuckles. "Yes, I'm sure Forgewise will come up with something more functional and more sanitary." She tilts her head, her smile turned more pensive. "And I don't doubt that you would have taken backup with you if it were practical. Doesn't necessarily stop me worrying, I'm afraid."

She hesitates briefly. No better opportunity than the present. "And to clarify a point from earlier, while finding solid evidence of still-living stoneborn stunned me to no end, I was not surprised that you were right." She nods firmly. "Your wits, knowledge and experience have helped keep us alive down here, and I for one am grateful for them."

Leaning into the doorway, Xira listens to her friends introducing the Courageous. Which brings up one of her many questions ... How should I refer to you, Zenith? To me it feels strange to call a living, thinking person it, but I noticed that you called Brilliance-of-Heaven him. Do you have a preference?

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

Xira places her lit slingstone in a shirt pocket and tucks one end of her scarf over it, muting its glow. Settling by the door, she holds her staff in her right hand and rests the left lightly on Zenith. She has questions to ask the crystal globe, but right now her thoughts chase themselves through her skull, a disorienting eddy. She needs to calm them if she's to have any chance of sleep tonight.

Tonight? Is it night in the world above right now, with Desna's stars dancing? Eh, it hardly seems to matter in this world below.

So many thoughts... She smiles and offers one to Brimble. "I'm glad you're getting some armor. Been a bit worried about all the solo chances you've been taking, lead scout."

To blazes with darksight, once both men run past her, Xira will uncover her slingstone so that she can see what she's doing while closing that door.

Xira's look doesn't question too much-- she remembers all those life-or-death instructions she got quite clearly --but Argatha's explanation takes less time than attempting to diagnose the pair.

Especially after that 7. *eyeroll*

The explanation does clarify things enough for Xira to immediately dig her air crystals out of her pack. With those in hand, she follows Brimble.

Pre leaving for the Forge:

I agree. Xira mentally 'sighs' to Zenith. The prospect of seeking every clan dagger in the complex does not enthrall me either, however needful the task. I too have no idea how the return of the stoneborn might be effected, but it would likely solve more than one conundrum if it could.

Before leaving with Brimble and Argatha, Xira does 3 things: fetches Zenith's pedestal from the Courageous' sanctuary, stows it and the journal in her pack, and speaks again to Forgewise.

"Should a stoneborn's clan pendant be with their dagger for the Return?" she asks. "Verrik's pendant turned out to be sufficient authorization for us to enter the Vault, and so I thought to ask to borrow it again just in case. But I certainly will not risk it if it's needed for the ceremony, or for any other reason."

Won't do a Diplo roll here. Xira will not nudge Forgewise in one direction or another on this; his plain answer is good enough for her.

Argatha shrugs, ”As much as I want to see the surface sooner than later, I think it’s right we collect all the clan daggers we can and perform this ritual as best we can. We have been given the gift of the Courageous. It would be a shame to accept that gift and not do what we can for the Stoneborn so they can make their way to heaven.”

"My inner idealist agrees wholeheartedly." Xira gives Argatha a wry-but-warm smile. "My inner pragmatist, however, recommends that we start with the most readily available daggers and take stock then. The task doesn't seem to be going anywhere."

At the Battle Forge:

Xira stays at the door of the Forge for now, lest her lit-up sling bullet interfere with her friends' sight. I guess we get to stand watch, Zenith. Another mental sigh. I must find a way to acquire darkvision for myself.

Back in the Vault:

Diplo Aid to Phantrel: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

"'The Traveller's Sporeset?'" The name catches Xira's attention. "Now I'm curious. Of what particular use are spores to travellers?

Back in the Temple:

Sense Motive #1: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21 Yes!!
Sense Motive #2: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14 Aaahh, so close!
Diplo Aid to Brimble: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4 Oh eck! Sorry Brimble.

Forgewise's glance at the alcove is quick, but Xira catches it. Her curiosity itches to know what or who the ash-stained shroud conceals, but she will not risk offending the celedon, who has shown them only kindness. Though it now seems that this missing god may lie at the heart of whatever disaster drove the stoneborn from their strongholds. She resolves to ask Em if she has any guesses at who the alcove's (former?) occupant might be.

”So, uh, could one of us do this send-off? We’re not stoneborn but I do sort of work for Dranngvit now…”

Zenith, do you know anything about this Farewell ceremony? I offered Forgewise my help, and this sounds like no small task, especially if we wind up hunting for more clan daggers.

"We got down here, which means they'll wanna know how we did it. Then more'll come down here too. An' some of 'em are good people, o'course... but not all."

Xira looks downright grim. "And given that we haven't seen even a tithe of the dangers down here, some of those good people are likely to die for the greed of the not-so-good."

Xira turns to Brimble. "I'm willing to help you get into the Battle Forge. Tired as I am, I don't think I'll get to sleep for a while yet ... and it would be two of us on the crowbar."

"How we may contend with the GMC remains undetermined, but those I love simply cannot last for hours, even days on end without my sparkling presence." Em often tries to cheer herself with such words, offhand comments that belie her many fears, but now, alas, her tone remains melancholy. She frowns, and has little more to say.

Xira gives Em a firm, heartfelt hug, much like the one she gave Raka in the Iron Dormitory. "We'll get you back. To the sunlight and to Cal." She looks her little little sister in the eye and gives her a smile full of confidence. "Depend on it. We'll find a way."

"I grieve, but I am not surprised. Death was the most like explanation for why Verrik had not seen to his duties, for he was ever conscientious. Rest in the mighty hands of the Forge Father, faithful servant!"

Xira bows her head in respect while Forgewise speaks of Verrik, then returns to her friends. While Forgewise ponders the dilemma of the daggers, she speaks in quiet Taldane. "Forgewise has so few sources of solace now, I see no merit in tainting his memories of his friend, memories that I'm sure are truer to who Verrik really was than the maddened creature his grief and rage twisted him into."

"I'd like to find the remaining stoneborn! This means mounting some kind of search, but where? We've no idea why they left, or where they went, they could have gone anywhere!"

She carefully avoids looking at her pack where it sits upon the journal, but Xira does consider the possibility that its pages might hold hints as to what "this gamble" actually was.

”Sooner or later we’re going to get scurvy, or be forced to surface to obtain food. When we do, we’re going to have to confront the GMC, or hide from them. What we do next should involve that issue I think. I mean besides sleeping, we should get some shuteye soon.”

"I have a few thoughts on dealing with the GMC." Xira rubs her forehead, stifling a yawn of her own. "But I agree that we'll come up with better plans after some rest."

With a basso hum in his chest, Forgewise begins to shape the wire with his blazing hands, as someone might idly play with string. "But on that anvil, I must beat the iron again: hast thou found any sign of Verrik?"

He looks at you with slight apprehension coloring his otherwise friendly mien.

I did volunteer. Of course Xira also volunteered to be the only one present for the relating of these sad tidings, but she's not surprised that offer had been 100% ignored. She sets journal, pack and staff on one of the pews and approaches Forgewise, bracing herself for whatever may come next.

"We did." She speaks in a steady, somber tone as she slips one hand into a pocket. "We found his quarters, and entered ... but I'm afraid we have brought you no good news."

With that, Xira pulls out Verrik's clan dagger and presents it to the celedon.

Xira is hoping to rest soon, depending on how this sad duty plays out.

Xira grins at Raka's delight in her finds. "You look magnificent, Raka. Like a warrior born!"

”You’re a clever one. I dunno… can’t hurt to ask. An’ even if he can’t, maybe there’s something that’ll fit me in the battle forge or elsewhere. Hope ain’t gone just yet.”

Xira smiles at Brimble's compliment and follows his example by adding 5 sharpstones and 5 softstones to her supply of sling bullets. She'll seek advice on how to use them later.

She also smiles at Colin's suggestion. Xira is coming to understand that learning is the engineer's preferred solution to most problems, and she certainly can't fault him for that. "I guess it depends on what's in the vial? Assuming it's supposed to shatter on impact."

After casting around a bit more, she finds Em enthralled by the fabrics -- of course! Xira willingly joins her friend's inspection, admiring the textures and colors. Her memory reaches back to the most recent visit from her uncle's caravan, and she pictures herself wearing a trim bodice and swirling skirt in the vibrant hues before her, dancing to Matt's violin, Uncle Kanto's pipes, the drums and tambourines...

But back to the present. So Zenith, do you have a favorite color or preferred material? Though the gold silk is lovely. I'm just glad we can offer you something that never was worn by the undead. She shivers a bit.

In addition to whatever material Zenith chooses (and the materials Em has already chosen) Xira selects a roll of leathers, marble and jade blanks, and metals in the form of wire and ingots for Forgewise. She also hunts for bright threads and steel needles and scissors. She doesn't have Em's sewing talents, but she does like embroidery, and Zenith deserves proper adornment on the cradle they craft.

Perception for Embroidery Stuff: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 71d100 ⇒ 67

Like Argatha, she also keeps an eye out for healers' kits or whatever other medical supplies may be on hand.

Perception for Healing Stuff: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 91d100 ⇒ 2

Finally, she hunts for calligraphy supplies: parchment, colored inks, and a wider variety of pens and nibs than she has in her kit. The map-making kit has served her well, but the slate will get crowded if they wind up exploring more levels. Hopefully she can transfer her earlier mapping to another surface, easily carried.

Perception for Calligraphy Stuff: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 191d100 ⇒ 69

Once Xira has her selection assembled, she takes it to the checkpoint for due logging by their metal host. On the return to the temple and Forgewise, she braces herself and reenters the once-priest's quarters to collect the tragic journal. Somehow it seems to weigh more than everything else.

Xira returns Brimble's nod. Great job getting us in here.

Argatha is impressed that they got in so easily, and thanks Xiramona, ”Well done. Well done indeed.”

Xira chuckles as she returns the pendant to the dagger. "Thank Zenith for the idea. Mine was but the execution." She grimaces a bit while she wipes her palms on her trousers. "Fortunately for us, our host lacks sweat-detection abilities."

The first thing Xira looks for is a quarterstaff, to replace the iron rod she found in the kitchen what is starting to seem an age of the world ago. She finds one crafted from a fine-grained, nearly white wood, with beautifully chased steel ferrules and rings for reinforcement. It is a bit heavier than she's used to, but not uncomfortably so.

She straps the rod to her pack; Forgewise might have a use for it. Like Argatha, she adds a dagger to her small arsenal. She nearly bypasses the armor, knowing that such protection would interfere with her spellcasting. But then a thought strikes her, which she is quick to share with her drakeborn friend.

"Brimble," she murmurs, "d'you think Forgewise might be able to cut some of this armor down to something you could wear? There seems to be little or nothing he can't do with metal."

Xira will look for a few other things, but I'll put those and the rolls for them in my next post.

Desna weeps. Another one. Though it shouldn't come as a surprise, given their experience thus far with dwarven security measures.

Know Arcana: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23

Zenith, Xira says, trying to control any desperation leaking into her mental tone, Do you or any of the other Courageous know what would constitute 'proper authorization' here? And what is this metal creature likely to do if we can't come up with it?

After a three-second pause that likely would have seemed just as eternal had it only been two, Zenith responds. No doubt it would like you to present the clan pendant of someone who has authorization. Though it's true you don't exactly look much like a stoneborn.

If you can't convince it you have the right to be here, then it will most likely attempt to call for reinforcements - which might be fortunate for you in that I doubt there are any remaining. Failing that, it probably has some sort of simple ranged weaponry capacity - a projectile, I should imagine.

A pendant-- Xira hastily fumbles at the hilt of the dagger she stowed in a trouser pocket. Didn't she see -- yes!! Verrik's clan pendant still sits in its slot. She pulls it out, then sends her gratitude to Zenith and a prayer for luck and confidence to Desna before walking up to the creature behind the counter.

Laying the pendant on the stone surface, Xira tries to keep her voice as steady as her stone-language is fluent. "Forgewise requested some goodly materials for his crafting projects. The good priest sent us with this so we might fetch them for him."

Breathing slowly to hide her tension, Xira waits for a response.

Bluff: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Xira listens to Colin, Em and Argatha, though her eyes remain fixed on Verrik Brightbrass' clan dagger. Once they are done speaking, she takes a slow, shaky breath and walks back into the room, over to the journal, and reads those last dozen entries. Her lips press tight together in distress.

an engraved dwarfscript message of To Varyn from Goldie. All my love.

IRON OVERSEER Kazha Hammerfast & Golden Hammerfast & their children

I killed her. I killed him. I killed them both. I am damned.

Her head bows. So we just hadn't found the bodies after all. She now has a guess as to what let that patch of silverspore grow so large.

Finally she breaks a long minute of silence. "I think ... I think we need to be very careful not to confuse what is best for Forgewise with what is easiest for us.

I think that we should take the dagger and the journal with us and give him the dagger, along with the explanation that Verrik went through an agonizing, demoralizing event that cost him his son and his faith. Then give him only as much further information as he asks for. I also think that, in case the news throws Forgewise into another bout of despair, only one of us should be exposed to the danger that may follow."

Xira lifts her head. "I volunteer."

"We should bring his remains to Forgewise, that he may be set to rest. Tis a grim business, but one that must be done."

"Perhaps not." Xira studies the sheathed blade in her gloved hands. "Forgewise did say that the body is not necessary for the Return ceremony, though the dagger is."

Her words slow, become hesitant. "Would it be kinder to Forgewise to take just the dagger to him, and spare him the knowledge of what Verrik became? And is the kinder choice the better one? I don't know..."

The dead dagger gives her no hints, no clues.

Xira smiles and nods at Argatha's thanks, but can't quite manage a You're welcome. Because Brimble is right. Those words are turning into a mantra, it seems.

Her smile fades, replaced by a shudder as her attention returns to the de-animated dwarven corpse. Her gaze catches on what was once the clan dagger of a holy priest of Torag, and she wonders how long ago the life-proclaiming gem went dark.

She starts to reach for it-- surely they should take this to Forgewise --but then she pauses. Reminded of the virtues of caution, she extends her mystical sense.

If she senses nothing uncanny, she'll unfasten the dagger, making sure only her gloves make contact with anything on the corpse, and carry it out to the hall and by the vault door where Brimble is working.

Pre Ewwwwwww:

"I expect the Lady Highcliff will be able to take care of herself. Though she must be grieving." Em watches Zenith, her eyes flicking up to Xira's. "Let me help you with your new friend," she says, hoping to keep her friend in the present.

"You're probably right. Although--No, never mind." Xira smooths her expression into a rueful smile as she unwinds her scarf from her neck. "Maybe we could knot Zenith into this for now? Though I'm sure they would prefer something more purpose-built, so long as it lets them see."

Post Ewwwwwww:

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
Dicebot. Seriously.

Once they have established that the once-stoneborn will not rise to the attack again, Xira turns to doing what she can for Argatha's injuries. "Here, let me see that shoulder." She starts with creating pure water to wash out both the wound and the ugly nail-scoring on his cheek. Once both are as clean as she can make them, she lays on her hand and speaks in soft Thassilonian for the third time in as many days.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

"That should do it." Xira smiles in satisfaction, but still digs out her healer's kit. "Hopefully there's no deeper infection, but just in case. I don't even want to think about what might be under those nails."

Heal + Healer's Kit: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 5 + 2 = 21
Now that's more like it!

After dressing the shoulder wound, She closes her eyes, once again probing her newly-expanded mystical abilities. Is there anything else I can do here?

Yes.

After a brief, rhythmic chant, Xira takes a deep breath ... and blows a strange, silver-gilt sparkle from her lips, that drifts down and sinks into Argatha's body.

Xira just cast Resistance on Argatha.

"Raka!" Xira calls, hoping the monster doesn't understand Taldane, "draw it out, into the hall!" Brimble looks poised to commit mayhem if he can just get at the thing, and Em ... who knows what her new abilities are? Besides the crown, of course.

As for Xira herself, well, it worked once! She reaches again into that place of pure energy and lets fly.

Disrupt Undead: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 51d6 ⇒ 4

Thanks, Dicebot. I don't think Inspire Courage is gonna save this one.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Xira sidesteps to the wall at Brimble's warning, angling for a look at what caused him to react. Her first sight of the foulness within the room doesn't make her retch, but she does clench her teeth. She at first thinks to provide the light the kobold called for, but when she reaches for her magic, she finds a different spell, one that wasn't there before.

With ancient words on her lips, she fires a ray of positive energy at their enemy.

FREE: 5' step
STAND: Use Disrupt Undead

Disrupt Undead: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 151d6 ⇒ 2

"Speaking of missions" said Colin, "Later I'd like to go through the office notes, in case they reveal any important events that happened here."

"If our goal has now changed from simply getting out of here to finding those dwarves who are still alive - and I think we are all in agreement that it has - we may also need to consider going back down to the level below to fully explore. It's where we found the daggers."

Xira nods slowly in response to both men's words. "We do need more information on what caused this disappearance if we're to have any chance of finding anyone. And we should probably check the Steel Dormitories for more daggers. But Forgewise's requests should come first, certainly--" She cuts off abruptly, shaking her head.

"So much to do, but I can't help worrying about Lady Highcliff. Her father clearly thought she was in danger. Is she still? Are we too late already?" She nibbles on her lip, thoughts racing behind her eyes. "Maybe I should ask the Harrow."

Xira walks on, brow furrowed, but after a few more strides she looks at Colin. "'The Professor?'"

"Or at least let Raka and I know before you head off on a mission, hm?" Xira gives Em a playful squeeze around her shoulders, careful to keep her staff out of the way. "That way we can protect your person and admire your splendor, and that of your companion as well."

Around a stifled yawn, she adds, "But do give us some time before your next mission, or I may collapse trying to keep up with you."

Xira sends Zenith a wryly amused thought. :: Here's hoping I haven't doomed us to visiting every mirror in Thurznchakh.

Xira thoroughly agrees. "Sounds like a plan to me. Things are complicated enough without adding hostile goblins to the mix--oh!"

After edging around the ooze-mess yet again, she trots toward the doors to the baths. "I'll grab any clan daggers we left in here. I've lost track of which ones we've put where ... um." Pausing outside, Xira considers their recent lessons about Unexpected Things Behind Closed Doors. "Would anyone care to come with?"

"We should check them out later, maybe tomorrow as it's late and we have tasks to complete for Forgewise."

"Yes." Xira exits the room, sidestepping carefully to keep the ooze's remains off her boots. "I am worried about the time this is taking, but I certainly won't repay Forgewise's kindness with desertion."

She glances up and down the hall, smiling to see that all her companions have arrived. "So which task should we tackle first?"

While others poke around in the ooze's now-externalized innards, Xira collects her staff and starts to step around Argatha, headed for the bathroom. She reaches for her shirt, intending to retrieve Zenith without giving anyone a show, when two things stop her: Argatha moving into her intended private spot, and the very voices he hears. She quickly lets go of her shirt.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
Stealth: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17

Moving as quietly as she can, Xira slips in behind him, staff ready if needed. Unfortunately, she's a bit too far back to hear whatever he may be hearing.

Of course I'm not jealous of Zenith. Sorry, what was the question?

Lolololol X-D

Swapping Mage Armor for CLW.

Now there's a thought! Seeing Phantrel break out the oil, Xira wonders briefly if another new spell of hers might be flammable.

But she has higher priorities right now than experimentation. She slides Zenith down her shirt with an apologetic thought. (Maybe it can see out a fastening gap?) Then she again reaches within to ready a spell.

"Raka," she murmurs, then forces her voice to its normal level. Whether or not it can hear, the thing already knows they're there after all. "I can improve your defenses with a force screen. If the blob shows any signs of getting through the door, I'll do it.

"Which brings us to the next decision." Xira directs this to the group in general. "Stay here and try to end the thing, or run like blazes and hope it can't catch up?"

Move: Stows Zenith
Readied action: Casting mage armor

Sweet Desna, that thing gets uglier the closer it gets. Coming up blank on things to try, Xira curses softly in Thassilonian.

Hold on. Maybe...?

For the first time, Xira reaches into the newly enlarged space where her magic lives and finds what she needs. Her right hand drops her staff and moves until it is perpendicular to her face, fingers pointed upward. The Thassilonian curse fits this spell perfectly, so she repeats it with a flicking hand gesture toward the blobby beast before her. A strange shimmer, like air rising from summer-heated stone, flows from her hand to the blob.

Gritting her teeth, Xira closes the door, then steps back from it. Hopefully she can do so safely.

Standard: Cast Twisted Fortune
Move: Close the freakin' door

Ch-ch-ch-changes:

+1 Str, +2 Cha, +1 HP
1 level Sorcerer, Harrow bloodline
Sorcerer spells:
1st (4/day)—grease, mage armor
0 (at will)—disrupt undead, message, prestidigitation, resistance
Adept spells unchanged:
1st—comprehend languages, cure light wounds
0 (at will)—create water, detect magic, light
Bloodline Arcana: Harrow: Divination spells +5 to result of roll. Roll twice, keep best result. (Max Chance 100%)
Eschew Materials: Cast spells without materials, if component cost is 1 gp or less.
Spell Focus (Divination): Spells from one school of magic have +1 to their save DC. (Granted by Zenith)
Twisted Fortune (6/day, DC 13) (Sp): As a standard action foe in 30 ft is confused 1 rd (Will neg).
Varisian Tattoo (Divination): Spells from chosen school gain +1 caster level. (Granted by Zenith)

And she thought the rats were nasty.

”Em! That puddle is moving. Get out of there, right now! I’ll burn it!”

Xira's first thought is heat up a sling bullet! But no, that risks turning whatever Argatha is about to do into a one-shot.

But there are other means. "Argatha! Does your spell let you keep your distance?" she calls. "Heat up my staff if not!"

"Hold on-- was Em wearing purple?"

"Looked like it to me," Xira sighs.

"I assume she picked up one of the Courageous? Do we know if she is... acting fully of her own volition?"

"She had, yes. That pretty little crown." Xira considers, frowning thoughtfully. "What you suggest is certainly possible, but ... Em is pretty willful in her own right. I suspect that whatever she's doing is her own choice, though it might have been the crown's suggestion."

Pausing before she follows Raka and Phantrel out the door, she thanks Forgewise and asks him to please tell Brimble and Colin which direction they went, and that they'll return as soon as they can.

If we can doesn't need saying, she figures.

Then Xira picks up her staff, lights it as before, and sets out after the others, offering a thought to Zenith on the way. ::"I hope I won't have to shove you down my shirt, but I'm warning you just in case."

I do not wish to be bundled into a bag-- I have already grown weary of a small chamber, and I will not change one confinement for another one even smaller, unless it be temporary and due to dire need. Carrying me in your hand is acceptable, or fashioning something similar, as long as I can see.

::Entirely understandable, Xira replies, and rest assured I will never restrict you like that except, as you say, out of necessity.::

She considers Zenith's size and weight. ::You are no great burden for me to carry in hand, but I will often need both hands free for one reason or another. So yes, some sort of carrier to hold you securely in front of me sounds best. Forgewise might have suggestions, or I can ask Em. She has stitchery skills.::

Mentioning Em's name reminds Xira that she really should be attending to her two-legged friends in addition to her new spherical one. Keeping a secure grip on Zenith, she rises from the floor and looks about. Her gaze catches on Raka and her impressive shield-- a proper warrior indeed! -- but then she spots a flash of purple leaving the room and catches the farewell that Em tosses back.

By the time she exits the room herself, Argatha is already in motion to follow Em. Leaning out the Temple doorway, Xira can just make him out as a dark shape faintly silhouetted by flickering light. Em must have snagged the lantern. But where is she going?

Xira itches to follow, but restrains herself. The last thing this group needs is three people haring off with no indication of destination. Instead she finds the two closest of her companions, who happen to be Phantrel and Raka.

"Em just lit off down the hallway the way we came," she informs them. "Argatha is following her, but I have no idea where she's headed."

Had Xira not reached the floor before Zenith's assistance began, the resurgence of the icy, tiny lightning strikes throughout her body would have dropped her there by the time it hit her knees. As it is, a tremor runs through her from top to toe, and a strangled sound escapes her throat.

Relaxation is indeed beyond her, yet she clings to her mental disciplines like a board in a ocean storm. Breathe ... calm ... breathe ... calm breathe calm breathe calm breathecalmbreatheCalmBreatheBreatheBREATHE--

--and over!!

Her awareness of the world outside her skin seeps back in, stone, room, friends. Sudden anxiety jerks her eyes open, did she? Yes. She brought Zenith down with her safely, the shimmering globe sits secure in her lap.

Xira steps into the room and turns in a slow circle; awe, nervousness and excitement warring within her. "So how do we choose?" she murmurs once the circle is complete, "Or do they choose us?"

No presence tugs on her mind or sends some inner call, so maybe not. And yet, when her eye falls again on the globe of crystal, there it stays. Harrow decks are the divination tool most associated with Varisians, but her people also seek knowledge through orbs like the one in front of her. Is this enough of an association, Xira wonders, to build a partnership on?

She decides to find out.

Taking a few slow, deep breaths, Xiramona clears and calms her mind, much as she would do before consulting the cards. Extending a hand that trembles a little, she lays her fingertips on the globe and waits.

It may well have been Xira who asked about the charges; she did mark "careful" as one of her descriptors on her application! She also spends long moments thinking: about the charges, the responsibility, and everything Phantrel has said about bonding to and being bonded with Thunder-follows-Lightning. About how helpless she felt just minutes ago.

Deep down, though, she knows her decision has already been made. She has offered her help, and she accepted her life from Lord Highcliff's hands. Her choice must follow from those choices.

"I accept," she says, her voice low but firm.

Tears stream down her face as Xira lets Raka push her towards the door. What else can she do? Aside from grasping Em's arm and giving it a tug in the same direction, which she does as soon as her little little sister is in reach. Her spell is still active; she can understand Colin and then Phantrel calling out to Forgewise, trying to reach him somehow. But she can't speak herself. What can she do, how can she possibly--

And then silence. Silence, and dropping temperatures, and a heaven-crafted caretaker slumping to the floor.

The right words. Words have power, she can almost hear Em say.

Xira steps out from behind Raka, her eyes scanning the room, finding each of her companions alive and unhurt. How would she feel if they were dead? If she had somehow lost, not only her friends here, but everyone in Salt Spire? What if she truly had no one?

She takes a few steps toward Forgewise, moving in front of him and then kneeling to bring her face closer to his current level, watching his bronze features for any kind of response.

"Phantrel," she says at last, "please tell Forgewise that I want to help too. Just that."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

This may need to be an assist.