"No, no, there aren't that many combinations and the text has soem hints about that too. We could simply try to open the portal that the scroll is."
Yasmeena looks back to Tariq. "Of course I’ll still go shopping with you if you still want anything before we go!" she grins at the stern priest.
"Well, I'd like to have time to prepare, maybe have a nice dinner... who knows, it could be my last! What if the ritual mishaps and we end up turned into meatballs?" He realises that might not be the most comforting words thought now. "Plus, most of my prayers for today are gone."
"Could someone explain to me - in layman's terms - what we are going to do here? And I don't mean the task of opening the portal. I mean the bigger picture." Haleen inquires.
Her facial expression asks it in simpler terms What the f$&$ are we trying to accomplish here?
"Sure. We... eh... actually... Aith will explain you better."
Yasmeena nods sagely to Tariq. "And I'd certainly like to get rid of this rotting disease before we go anywhere."
"So we need to find that code?" Tariq asks. "Or, better said, you two, because I'm totally useless in that regard." He turns to Yasmeena. "Maybe I can go with you and see what kind of supplies we can get with those rubies."
“The big one looks especially promising,” Aith nods distractedly, clearly more focused on what Rayhan’s saying.
"Could someone explain to me - in layman's terms - what we are going to do here? And I don't mean the task of opening the portal. I mean the bigger picture." Haleen inquires.
Her facial expression asks it in simpler terms What the f*@$ are we trying to accomplish here?
At Haleen’s question, the mage lifts a pointed brow and asks, “You mean the opportunity to visit a personal pleasance demiplane conjured by one of the most powerful mages known to history, and then lost for thousands of years isn’t big enough?”
The arch effect she’s going for is rather spoiled by her huge grin and the way she’s still quaking with excitement, so she rushes through a marginally more reasonable explanation, though she’s so thrilled that she speaks so quickly that there’s almost certainly a fair bit of detail lost along the way. “Still, if we want to get more personal about it, Rovagug lunatics of one variety or another have been doing their level best to get their hands on it and us out of the way since we got the Scroll out from under the House of the Beast, and quite apart from spiting them, we probably want to make sure that they can never do whatever it is that they want with it.”
“But there’s a link: our genie ‘friends’ – whether playing the Mouth of the Carrion King like Kardswann, or puppeting said King like ‘Rokova’ did – and whatever’s happened that the Templars of the Five Winds have started to fall. The last person known to have owned the Scroll was the lover of the Templars’ leader, and who disappeared sometime after the Templars were able to defeat an ambitious efreet enemy by luring him into a trap in Kakishon, where they left what was left of him, including a fabulously powerful weapon. Something like that, anyway. If we can get there, we might be able to figure out more about precisely what happened, and make sure no one else gets their hands on the thing, whether it’s a sword or something more … exotic.”
That is a lot more concise and rational than Haleen expected from the elf. "Okay then."
All call it a day and frolic in their favorite pastime. Be it exploring the library or floating in the bath.
The next day the Knights run some errands to prepare for what might come. As of now it still might be a big disappointment and more days of Rayhan searching through the vast amount of tomes in his library.
Rayhan sets up a table in the garden behind the house for the experiment. The scroll is placed there and weighed down with four stones. With everyone around, Rayhan casts read magic on the scroll and everyone who does the same, can see the map of Kakishon - depictions of beautiful islands on a glittering sea.
Rayhan starts touching the islands on the map. Going through his notes he touches the Serpent Isles, Khosravi, Khandelwal, and then he is unsure what to choose next. "It is only 24 possible combinations if my conclusions were right, but I'm lacking the information on what happens if I choose wrong. Does it reset and I can start over again? Or does it have countermeasures against unauthorized attempts to open it?"
But these last minute doubts come too late. Smoke starts to curl up from the map, and the smell of sulfur and burning leather fills the air. A few moments later, an incredible blast of fire and smoke explodes from the map.
With a sudden explosion of light and sound, the world becomes engulfed in fire. The ground itself seems to give way, and suddenly you are falling, falling through a vortex of fire, plummeting into the throat of a volcano. The pain tears through your flesh, yet still is strangely less overwhelming than what one might expect of a cataclysm this all-encompassing. A sense of vertigo overwhelms even the fire and noise, and the sensation of falling grows into a tempest of burning wind. And then, in the flaming clouds and firestorm around you, shapes begin to emerge. Men and women made of fire and smoke—adorned with glittering jewelry and wielding scimitars made of fire, their faces twisted masks of glory and cruelty—rise up through the firestorm just as you are falling. Some of them seem to notice and mock you as you fall before they surge upward and out of sight. And then comes the last of them, a towering, burning warrior with great horns and a cruel, curved sword. This immense figure notices you as well, and even takes the time to smile sardonically as he bows in mockery, as if thanking you for a service you provided. And then, with a flash, he is gone as well, trailing behind him a noxious plume of burning ash and searing cinders.
As suddenly as it began, the vortex of fire is no more. For a moment, you can see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. But then, sensation slowly returns. The sound of waves crashing on a shore; the feel of a warm breeze and the grit of a bed of sand; the smell of salt air and strange exotic flowers—all these and more slowly fill the world. As your vision clears, you behold an idyllic tropical bay. Behind you rises a hilly junglescape rife with birdlife and snakes and strange flowers. Across a shallow inlet, more of the island rises, its slopes covered with jungle as well. Above, the sky is cloudless and blue while some distance down the beach stand a pier and a small stone hut—the only signs of civilization. Of the vortex of fire itself, there is no sign.
"Holy Lady, what was that?" Tariq checks that he's fine, and looks around to see what's of the others. "Are you guys alright?"
If dumbfounded had a picture in the dictionary it would be Rayhan's face. "That is not what was supposed to happen!"
"That felt like we screwed up big style." Haleen comments.
"But the beach is really nice. And a huge part of the problems I was expecting us to meet here, just left. I'd really like to see the face of Kazim when she finds out." she adds with a chuckle.
"She's probably okay as long as she can charge a fee, I guess."
Jokes aside, Tariq proposes investigating the only thing that seems to have a remote connection to an exit - the stone hut.
Falling through the vortex, Aith has just time to consider that a 1 in 24 chance is fairly long odds even by her standards, but whatever this is simply too ridiculous to be normal countermeasures, she guesses.
That goes double with the vision – she really, really hopes it’s only a vision – of the figures of fire and smoke, but in another instant she’s picking herself up shakily from a dizzyingly unstable landing.
<“Dammit, you don’t think we just … let something out, do you?”> she speculates, falling back into exceptionally vulgar Elven in her shock. <“Or that that trader from Leng was on to something? ‘What you seek in Kakishon is what you need, yet what you need is not what you seek’ my sweet fa-”>
Remembering herself, she blushes, pales, and continues in Common, slowly enough to betray the deliberateness of someone trying not to panic. “If that was an ancient efreet with ambitions of conquering at least most of northern Garund, I would like to register my complaint that lorekeepers should not bandy about that an old warlord’s treasures are locked up in such-and-such a place without also noting whether said warlord is locked up with them.”
The sound of waves crashing on a shore; the feel of a warm breeze and the grit of a bed of sand; the smell of salt air and strange exotic flowers—all these and more slowly fill the world. As your vision clears, you behold an idyllic tropical bay. Behind you rises a hilly junglescape rife with birdlife and snakes and strange flowers. Across a shallow inlet, more of the island rises, its slopes covered with jungle as well. Above, the sky is cloudless and blue while some distance down the beach stand a pier and a small stone hut—the only signs of civilization. Of the vortex of fire itself, there is no sign.
Turning to the island behind her, she takes a few calming breaths, before glancing at poor Rayhan, who seems to have been dragged into this with her and her friends. “It is a lovely beach, as Haleen says. Are these the Serpent Isles then? No, wait. Would you like us to prioritize finding a way to send you home? As I recall, you mentioned that you had happily left your adventuring days behind you.”
"Ahhh... If the Ifreet is actually unbound and roaming Katapesh, maybe Rayhan would rather stay here with us... Rayhan?"
"Hehe. Find a way to bring me home quickly. That was a good one." Rayhan needs to sit down. "You saw those fire genies? They have been imprisoned here for how long? We can consider ourselves happy if we get out in our lifetime!"
Lifetime is also a very relative term. Especially in a hostile environment. Like the one the heroes are in. A large creature with six heads on long necks emerges from the sea to look for snacks.
Yasmeena identifies this as a hydra. A very interesting creature, that heals wounds with tremendous speed and regrows severed heads withing a blink of an eye. Which can be hacked into minced meat, or killed by severing all of it's heads. Regrowing of heads stops with fire or acid.
"Hehe. Find a way to bring me home quickly. That was a good one." Rayhan needs to sit down. "You saw those fire genies? They have been imprisoned here for how long? We can consider ourselves happy if we get out in our lifetime!"
“No chance that was a curse, then, part of the story of the battle being moved here at the time when-” Aith muses unhappily, eye tracking along the shoreline while she speaks as she takes in the wonder of walking the planes for the first time. A demiplane, but still. So much to discover! Does it come to an abrupt end, like a wall? Does it look like it goes on forever but you can never actually get so much past a given point? Does the space loop back around so that you come back out on the side you started from? Does-
And that’s when she feels a tap on the shoulder and Yasmeena calling her attention to more pressing matters.
“Gods help us!” she yelps. She scurries hastily back a couple of paces , but draws her pistol, even as she opens with one of her favourite spells, guessing that such a brute is unlikely to be particularly strong-willed.
Yasmeena draws her trusty longbow and starts a battle dance, firing an arrow at the creature before it can get its bearings.
The beast is covered in glitter and blinded by it. This makes it even easier for Yasmeena to put an arrow in, but it heals the wound as quick as the arrow tore it.
While not seeing anything the heads leash out in all directions.
Tariq capitalizes from the Hydra's blindness and charges forward, scimitar in hand and hooting a battle cry.
He doesn't care about cutting heads, hoping just massive amounts of damage will do the trick.
Haleen follows Tariq.
Aith hesitates, seeing just how deadly a sword is in Tariq’s hands, and knowing how gracefully Yasmeena can handle a bow, especially once she really gets going. Haleen, as far as the mage can tell, is holding back a bit too, either to take the hydra’s measure or just because she has a good idea about how close a sane person would want to get to that many biting heads.
“Do we want a fireball?” she calls from further up the beach. A bit more uncertainty than she actually feels creeps into her voice, which is unfortunate. “Don’t worry about it! I have ideas! Just hold it for another few seconds, please!”
Yasmeena shoots a volley of arrows that takes what little life is left in the hydra after Tariq's mighty blow and Haleens contribution. The long necks fall limp and the heads dangle in the waves.
"Everybody alright?"
"I am."
Once he confirms no one is hurt, Tariq goes to check the stone but.
Yasmeena shrugs charmingly and retrieves her arrows. Then she casts heroism on everyone, just in case.
“Fabulous,” Aith says, clearly still processing the mass of snake heads that just boiled out of the sea. If that’s what calling this place the Serpent Isles means, then it would probably be more honest to say that no, she’s very much not alright with this. She thought this place was meant to be a little personal pocket of paradise?
“It occurs to me that I should have been more forthcoming about the spells I prepared today,” she comments airily as she falls in with the others on the way to the stone hut. “The usual basics, but I tried to prepare a few more energetic things: fire and ice, and something to protect us if we run afoul of monsters inclined to return the favour. A spell for haste, another to blunt the worst of a blow. Mostly, though, in case something huge and horrible pops up quite close to us without warning, I have a spell that will shield a few patches from my wider-reaching spells, but those can’t be moved, so it has to wait until everyone’s in position, or willing to hold still for a moment.”
Meanwhile another critter flops up on the shore. A large sea turtle. Slowly, but steadily it comes towards the Knights of Kelmarane.
Tariq studies cautiously the new guest to the party. Ready to slash it like pastrami if things go south, he holds himself for now, hopeful that they finally find someone with no wicked intentions.
<“You couldn’t have turned up a minute earlier, could you?”> Aith grumbles in Elven, looking back briefly at the latest arrival as she continues her own brisk pace towards the pier and hut. <“Let that thing enjoy turtle soup and leave us in peace?”>
Although, maybe hydras don’t like turtle. Growing up as far inland as she did, behind the hostile expanse of the Spellscar Desert, the elf mage has no real sense for marine life. She’s never heard of people being mauled by turtles, though, giant or otherwise, so she presumes they’re safe.
If the turtle was tying to charge someone it is definitely to slow. Aithaloessa doesn't take the time for a second look and leaves the turtle behind to reach the hut at the pier.
It is a small stone hut, but the interior is special. It is furnished with magical basins that produce food, water, and plush bedding upon command, though any items created dissolve into nothing if removed from the hostel.
Her magely senses tingling, Aith pokes about the small stone building. She concludes that it’s a bit like the tent they have, only as much fancier as one would hope from an archmage.
“Well, at least we should have a relatively comfortable exile if it comes to that,” she muses, considering the stuff that the place can conjure up. Half-playfully, she extends a hand over one of the receptacles and says, “We would like a way out of this demiplane, please!”
“Thought it might be worth a try,” she shrugs, before looking down the pier again and then at Rayhan and the others. “Any ideas about how we move from one region of this place to the next? Would it be too much to hope that we would just get on a boat? Although, on what bearing, I suppose we need to ask. Should we do the rounds of this island first?”
She does wander down the pier, peering across the water for any sign of land that could be one of the other bits of Kakishon.
After checking that the turtle doesn't attack and seems just an ordinary turtle, Tariq follows the rest to the hut.
Finding the magic food Makita him open his mouth in awe.
Aith finds that the end of the pier is burnt away. It must have been an incredibly hot fire as nothing is left of it.
Tariq, giving the turtle another look finds that it checks him out too. Pleased with what it sees, it coughs up a little scroll tube and spits it in front of Tariq's feet. Then it turns and waddles back into the sea.
When he finds the willpower to put his jaw back up, Tariq tries to follow the turtle. "Wait! Can you understand me? Who are you? What kind of strange thing is that?" He realises it must be one of those things the magicians call "familiar" or "animal companion".
Wandering back down from what it now looks like what’s left of the pier, Aith reports lightly, even with a touch of admiration, “There doesn’t seem to be any sign of a boat left, and something blasted the dock with an impressive fire. I can’t imagine doing so myself, but I’m beginning to think that Nex might just have been mad enough to stock this place with a true dragon or something, along with hydras.”
He evidently had a much different idea of paradise than she does. The island itself seems lovely, but the denizens of the waters surrounding it are something else. On that note, Aith turns her attention to the sealed scroll case Tariq’s obtained.
“Hmm!” she huffs, checking to see if it’s sealed by magic.
Aithaloessa finds that the scrollcase is under the effect of a Shrink Item spell. Throwing it on the ground returns it to normal size and allows to open it.
The scrollcase contains a parchment with a message and a small blue egg with brown spots made of some sort of stone.
Long ago, visitors to these islands received a greeting from the Imprisoner. You shall receive the same:
Greetings and welcome, brave hunters, to the Serpent Isles. Here you will find a hunt to satisfy your thirst for challenge, danger, and adventure, a tale to be told as you relax at the Pleasure Palace. Your task is simple: you must hunt down the Golden Ram and take its horn. There are many challenges to be faced on these islands, but only by sounding the ram’s horn can you call back the ship that will bear thee hence. Do not think to cheat the hunt, as the Golden Ram is under my protection; this is a test of skill and skill alone, of courage and cunning, not raw power. One ram’s horn you must sound and present to the boatman to gain passage. The other horn is yours to keep, as a trophy and reward for your daring. May Fate smile upon you and guide your aim.
The Imprisoner is gone now. But his world remains. A world we created. You have only just arrived but we must know if you are ally or enemy, capable or inept. Complete the Imprisoner’s task and we shall have a greater one for you, one to help fulfill your heart’s desire. Give this egg to the boatman, and he will bring you directly to us. We have much to discuss.
Yasmeena listens attentively while Aithaloessa reads the scroll. "It's a hunt, then? Well let's be about it then, while we still have the sun," she says with a wink. "How will we find this Golden Ram, I wonder? Without tracks or other evidence to follow, it would seem we must simply begin searching this island, and then move to others if necessary. What do you think?"
“A quest!” Aith agrees cheerfully, excitement writing itself into her posture. “It’s interesting that whoever this is calls – well, I suppose it must be Nex or one of his assistants – the “Imprisoner” and takes credit for actually making this place, but still wants us to play his games. I suppose there must be some sort of rules. And if the genies escaped when we arrived, I wonder who we’re dealing with now?”
“Anyway, as you say. Maybe if we do the round of the island before starting to beat our way through the jungle we can find a stream or something that might make it a bit easier, or some tracks?”
For all her excitement, Aith is beginning to think that she might not have liked Nex himself very much. She knows a bit about madness: mostly by way of her time in the guard in Alkenstar, whether from the poor souls who sometimes just needed help getting to a hospice or a corner they could curl up in in comparative safety, to the odd murderous lunatic, and to say nothing of her own wild magic, but this sort of nonsense is pretty damn crazy even by her standards.
Tariq isn't too thrilled about having to search for a specific animal in this vast landscape, but there doesn't seem to be an alternative for now.
"If we at least knew more about rams... Do you guys have a clue which is their favourite environment? That would narrow it down maybe."
In any case, he tries to get a glimpse of a track; who knows, maybe they're lucky enough.
2. You need to roll a whole lot better to find anything.
Haleen looks around too, but the nice view from the beach over the sea distracts her a lot.
Walking on the beach is easy and searching there easily gets some ground covered. Yet the goat doesn't seem to be a beach person. Maybe more mountains? But there are none. Anyway, there is no sign of a goat, golden or not. No tracks, no poop, no nothing.
It’s … fine. The beach is fine. Aith is used to a lot of sand, and even after a stint in Katapesh, and in Rayhan’s cliff-side villa, no less, the ocean is a delightful novelty. Still, after about 45 minutes or so, some of the gloss is off, and the mad mage starts emitting a quiet stream of murmuring Elven, from which one can hear the occasional “<Well, maybe,>” and “<perhaps,>” and “<or even…>”
Eventually she draws up short and rummages in her pack for her spellbook. She pulls it out with an unusually dissatisfied expression compared to her usual enthusiasm for what she does best, and as she starts leafing through to some of its more recently filled pages, her voice is tentative.
“I’ve never tried casting this spell before, but it might save some time. Ideally, it would, but that note said, ‘Do not think to cheat the hunt.’ And then something about skill and courage, but also cunning, and I think that getting to the point is fairly clever, if you ask me. Apart from that, though, it can be fooled by some other magic, and running water.”
“If this doesn’t work, I could try summoning something, but that’s not much in my line, so it would have to be something fast and perceptive. Or I could try flying around a bit. But first, shall I try the direct approach?”
Aith's finger traces along the page for a few moments as she concentrates intensely on refreshing herself on the most important and the trickiest bits especially, then she stores her grimoire away again and faces the interior of the island. She settles her thoughts as best she can, then casts the spell and hopes for the best.