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“'You’ve gotta respect everyone’s beliefs.' No, you don’t. That’s what gets us in trouble. Look, you have to acknowledge everyone’s beliefs, and then you have to reserve the right to go: 'That is f$!+ing stupid. Are you kidding me?' I acknowledge that you believe that, that’s great, but I’m not going to respect it. I have an uncle that believes he saw Sasquatch. We do not believe him, nor do we respect him!” ― Patton Oswalt
I'm super-sorry for going MIA so long; stressful week, hardware problems, AND OF COURSE that damned lockout bug that this site's been under all week. Also, it appears those Boots ONLY work for Rangers, am I reading that correctly? FINALLY: Score!!! Once we have the time (and it just so happens I require less anyway), I WILL want to crib from that grimoire we just found!
Zeno's expression remains almost as stony as the vault around him. "Ah, Pechs. Faeries of the deep earth," He announces with surreal calm. "I hope everybody's brought cold iron; magic doesn't take to them with ease, but if anyone could bring a good bright flash of some sort to bear, I would suggest it." For his own part, Zeno concentrates upon his bow while sprinkling powdered magnesium across it, and even those just standing near him can feel it begin to pulse with unnatural power.
Zeno's acquaintances are long-gone by the time the party stirs for their new day. He prepares his customary wards ...
...as well as finally getting around to using his strange wand from yesterday on himself, looking through it as though it were a kaleidoscope.
He accepts the blessings of magic vestment and remove fear from Sorrina, whose transformation he can only marvel at silently from the back before they move on.
"I'm not sure who these two fighters are, but they bravely charged in to defeat the crystal creatures. And who are you?" "Hey, pay 'ttention! The [Orcish word for 'lawn ornament']'s talkin' about US!" "Hey, you think big purple man's got a carpe-OH! Oh, hawhawhawhawhaw, we're no Pathfinders, we're just..." "...we just dropped by to repay a debt." "Yeah." "Uh-huh." The two's demeanor actually turns sober for a moment.
Zeno and his saviors/debtors barely even look at each other before the latter go bounding after an even bigger crystal to smash, one a tad cautiously , while the other...
Zeno puts his newfound freedom of breathing-space to immediate use, stringing a blunted arrow along his extraordinary Elven bow and closing in for the ideal shot...
I didn't see THAT coming!, Zeno thinks to himself, screaming in horror and agony as he is nearly impaled. Zeno is actually frightened. Another strike like that would be sure to kill him. He scrabbles back a short distance, but he's not sure what to do - when suddenly.... "See?! Toldja he'd need us!" "Never told me I'd get to SMASH anything like THAT, heeheeheeheehee...!" "NOW!!!"
Charging down the path from behind Zeno are a pair of scrappy-looking half-orcs - with matching Liberty's Edge tattoos on their shoulders! Zeno recognizes them as former slaves he'd helped liberate somewhere along the way; they must have managed to sneak through the portal back in Absalom!
Both set to work on Zeno's outstandingly-shatterable assailant with their humble but trusty sledgehammers!
...and I really didn't see -that- coming....
Regrettably, Zeno's familiarity with these beings is negligible; heeding Arrius's advice, however, he tries to distance himself from the others, and likewise seeing him manifest a magical shield, draws a small, smooth, mithril wand with a lilac pearl embedded in its center, with which to form one of his own.
Zeno nods with approval at Elly's own sword, before turning around to give the others a once-over: He notices Elby, too, has a fearsome starmetal weapon of her own; and while Fung has his poise, Arrius his physique, and Dana her formidable armor, it is unclear to him that any are the sort to be versed in swordsmanship. He turns back to Elly. "In that case, may I? Proper grip or not, I can still handle a sword when I must."
"That is interesting," Zeno mentions in response to Dana's alert. Again, Zeno's demeanor is stone-faced even by Elven standards, but the sufficiently-sensitive may detect some honest excitement at the revelation. Knowledge (Local) DC 17 OR (Geography) DC 14:
Even though none of you have personally met Zeno before, his reputation as one of the Society's foremost currently-adventuring cartographers precedes him. --- Zeno looks down at this new discovery. He pauses for a moment, but helps himself to the fallen warrior's sword if he fails to see anyone else do likewise. "I trust others saw the same second line as I did; I only know so much about Gorumites, but I've never heard of one who was more sentimental than practical, and their greater concern would always be toward those in this world who can still fight. I strongly suspect that parchment was no mere poor-man's headstone, but what is referred to as a 'hint'." He proffers the blade to Elly. "This is enchanted starmetal, you realize; those Terran 'guardians' Dana foretold may well be of such substance that any steel weapon striking them would suffer more harm than it wrought...but with this weapon, it could be another story entirely."
NOTA BENE: Last year, I did something I'd never done before: Made a New Year's Resolution and kept to it the whole year. That resolution (combining traditions, you might say, as my household always has) was to declare 1 day/week my "Internet Shabbat", and this year I've resolved to expand upon it. Practically speaking for the rest of you, this means expect silence from me every Monday, and reduced/unreliable activity on SAT/SUN (I'm still sorting out the proper limits to set for those two days).
"Ere we go any further," Zeno announces as he draws a small handful each of near-black treebark and natron, which he uses to work magical wards upon himself...
...before pulling out a wand like a long, slender pillar of geometric shapes, each made of a different material: Jade, platinum, blue maize, obsidian, lacquered cinnabar, rock honey, bismuth, and some sort of sturdy colorful fungus, among others. He waves it in the direction of everybody else in turn, and as he does so, you each hear an ethereal tone and experience a strange, fleeting, sensation that continues to linger afterwards just past the edge of your awareness....
"This place does not seem to be unhospitable. We definitely should mark the exact spot that we landed in!!" "Fair idea; do mind the crystals." "If I didn't know any better, I'd say many of these crystals have been cultivated, guided like bonsai - and all in *completely* different ways, like some crystal-sculptor's fair...and speaking of which, I am fairly certain that have are indeed entered another plane...but *not* The Plane of Earth. Somewhere else; some archmage's demiplane, perhaps. In fact..." Zeno points straight ahead, at a particular crystal. "See that one? See the arcane mark within, beneath the mineral deposits? Obviously placed there long, long ago, so I don't *think* it's our Mistress Westyr."
He concentrates, elevating his mind to perceive any magic in the chamber...
Every Elven Archer knows that the secret to perception is to see and hear - but never to "look" or "listen"; by the time, Elbesamiya has determined the color of the crystal-bloom nearest her Zeno has already precisely enumerated the individual crystals comprising it, followed their path of growth from visible beginning to end, and foreseen where and how the formation, should it remain undisturbed, shall continue to grow for upwards of the next 400 years. He makes a mental note to try returning to this place in such time, if he can, just to see if he was correct.
"I have some planeswalking experience myself; I assume that has a great deal to do with my being summoned for this." Zeno glances in the direction of the draft-animals and travel-gear; mundane as it all is (and that's what confuses him), it's the most generous starting outfit he can recall ever being given by the Society. "I don't believe I heard you specify" - and here he uses an arcane-in-multiple-senses-of-that-word preposition akin in meaning to 'where' but specifically in reference to relative position between multiple planes of existence - "we are headed?" He seems (at least to those sensitive enough to such things to read the infamously cryptic Elven face) as if he is prepared to say more, but doesn't.
Zeno marvels at the Sepia Ellipsoid, but keeps a distance; he casts fleeting glances at both the formidable platinum necklace around his own neck, then down to his Wayfinder, itself set with a Dusty Rose Prism. "How far do its...leeching properties extend beyond the individual bearer? I'm tempted, but I shan't be taking it; must I still worry for my own Ioun Stone?" "What about other ? Any risk to them, or just other Ioun Stones? Or perhaps just any of Thassilonian extraction?"
After the small thunderstorm's worth of noise and air-displacement caused by the previous two arrivals, it is easy to miss entirely the silent arrival of the next: A tall, athletically-built, Elf with platinum hair and turquoise eyes, wearing no armor but festooned with a small panoply of stunning Elven weapons, and an elegant silver spellbook at his side. He makes his presence known only several minutes later with a simple, soft-spoken, odd announcement: "Quickly: Has anyone got a bucket, cauldron, or the like?" ----- If somebody does and hands it over:
He wordlessly takes it, and hurriedly places it on the floor a short distance down the hall.
Only a few seconds later does a peal of (literal, this time) thunder echo from outside, followed by the sound of heavy rain on the roof, followed by a tiny section of previously-immaculate-looking ceiling collapsing in, letting in a steady trickle of rain...directly over the spot where he'd just placed the container. If nobody does, or doesn't offer it: "Unfortunate," He announces with a barely-perceptible shrug.
Only a few seconds later, a peal of (literal, this time) thunder echoes from outside, followed by the sound of heavy rain on the roof...followed by a tiny section of previously-immaculate-looking ceiling collapsing in, causing a steady trickle of rain to start pouring down on a spot on the floor a short distance down the hall. A decent-sized bucket, cauldron, or the like could have contained the mess.
I must confess, it pains me that I will not be at the proper table to get to see the shenanigans arising from Janus and Aiden working together, and poor sweet Claudia Kermit-grimacing all the way (just imagine if Xukong had joined them!).... Player Name: I'm Hiding In Your Closet
Goodness; that COULD have been a b~%$# of a fight...if she'd only had a chance! Anyways, spellbook filled to capacity - and at a bargain in ink, paper and time! Learning Cypher Script has paid off! Spells cribbed, for the record:
Total price: 660 gp/20 pages.
Zeno warns him that the baton is capable of controlling perhaps three dozen of these creatures but each command uses up some of the magical energies, so it is not a plaything.
The two obelisks are covered in carvings of tentacles and talons, and radiate strong conjuration magic. "Tentacled obelisks, is it? Always a cause for concern."
Zeno sends a second missile of acid down upon the golem - under the circumstances, why waste expensive adamantine?
Zeno finds himself wonders whether liches can in fact feel pain (at least as mortals know it); frustration? Probably. Tempted as he is to help put the old horror out of her misery, he decides that under the circumstances, his priority lies with the golem still trudging up from behind. He ascends higher into the air, bow aimed downward and nocked with a black starmetal arrow, looking every bit the angel of death....
Zeno almost feels sorry for the poor old lich; this has become almost unfair. He turns his attention to the golem, casting a small pouchful of sand mixed with saltpeter down to its feet, where it magically propagates into a vast carpet of roiling matter, spewing incandescent sparks and superheated air!
After having spent far too much time trying to properly study and understand the machinery controlling the behemoth, Zeno finally catches up to the others, just in time to hear about the offer of lore, but not in time to... "Bloody hell. Damn it, Setare...!!!"
There's no help for it any longer, of course (letting an undying mastermind behind some of the most fearsome war machines this world has ever known walk free might not be such a good idea anyway, but has that fractious, gibbering zealot never at least heard of 'a fair shake'???); Zeno stands in the air above, bow trained...
Readied Attack for when she tries to cast a spell:
Ranalus, you should adventure with my Bard sometime (assuming the two of you can both manage to be within level range); he too is a Ranalchist.
Zeno races into the air before launching a powerful missile of pure acid down at the nearest golem ().
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