CHAPTER 11
OSA Spire, Nine Hells
Mid January

Knight-Captain Edrahil and Lieutenant Faye watch quietly as the P.A.R.T.Y. dissolves in a sea of magical mist and emerald-green streamers. The world stands still for a moment, until Faye gently clears her throat.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Of course," the knight-captain says. "What's on your mind?"

"Are we really interested in working with... Lo'driel agents? I know he's your son and all, but they seem allied with the Glass Tyrant."

"I don't know, Faye," Edrahil says, letting out a soft sigh. "It's more complicated than you realize."

"I'm just saying, sir," the lieutenant presses. "This bard is friends with Choso. He helped bring him to power in the first place. What if... what if he's been playing us this whole time?"

"Then we will destroy him," Edrahil says firmly. "But until we have solid information regarding his allegiance, we must not judge, lest we become as blind as the Grand Marshall."

"But we could end up marching on the allied side of Lo'driel's banner, sir. If I understand the P.A.R.T.Y.'s plan correctly, that is."

"And if that course of action is just, what of it?"

If Lt. Faye has a response in mind, she keeps it to herself. Instead, she wraps an arm around the knight-captain's waist as they stand side by side in the newly captured spire.

"... it's a brave new world, isn't it, sir?"

"Not yet," Edrahil says, putting an arm around her shoulder far more casually than is proper for a commanding officer. Faye does nothing to object, instead betraying a soft smile. "But, Goddess willing, it will be."

Fey'driel

The P.A.R.T.Y. materializes beneath a solitary tree that rests atop a tall forested hill. Signs of life are everywhere, from birds and insects to woodland creatures scampering all around. A large, lush forest expands in all directions beneath the hill, while off to the west a brook burbles happily.

The sky is a perfect shade of Carolina blue, dotted with a handful of fluffy clouds that float about like heaps of cotton candy. If you strain your ears, you can almost hear the first faint notes of The William Tell Overture playing over the sun-soaked paradise. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_RM7cQCC4sU).

Boreas's emerald eye glitters with an inner fire the likes of which you've never seen, a pupil of orange visible amid the faceted surface.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: An airy voice whispers into the corners of your mind. "At long last. Have you come to free me from my torment?"]

Lyriel looks troubled, though nothing obvious appears to be the matter.

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: Your attempt to transport the P.A.R.T.Y. to Aeryis was redirected by a forceful shove from... somewhere beyond. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Sorry.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:01, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 1):

An muffled-yet-still-irritating voice interrupts the tranquility with a question that seems to be coming from Maeve's leather satchel.

"Are they gone?"

"It's so beautiful!" Maeve exclaims.  She would rhapsodize further on the beauty of the Fey realm when she's interrupted by a less-than-lovely voice.

"Come on out, Gilbert, you're well away from the nasty, mean paladins," she says, coaxing her annoying friend from out of the bag.

[Yes, the imp's name is Gilbert.  It seems fitting.

Also, what the heck happened to my horse?  Presumably we left  him parked outside somewhere in Ikuabai.  If you wish to retroactively rule that we somehow brought him along, cool.  If not, I guess Wes will enjoy an inside tour of the local glue factory.]

Zuriel looks around in confustion as the PARTY finishes materializing. "This isn't Aeyris," he says, displaying an admirable command of the glaringly obvious. He turns to Lyriel, confused. "I thought we decided to head back to meet the wild elves?"

He starts in alarm as Gilbert emerges from the satchel, eyes flaring white in an increasingly common occurrence. "What's this?!" he says, more in surprise than hostility.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 4):

"Is that so?" Gilbert says, taking flight once more and flourishing in his renewed freedom. After a moment, he points squarely at Zuriel... specifically, his white-hued, fiery eyes. "Then explain THAT!"

A wry smile plays across Zuriel's lips. "She didn't say you were away from all paladins. Just the mean, nasty paladins. I am neither mean nor nasty."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:16, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

"Huh.  You're right," Maeve says, having noticed for the first time that they are decidedly not on Aeyris.  Wes [who has magically appeared] crops the preternaturally green grass with great content.

"Oh, this is Gilbert.  You remember Gilbert, don't you?" Maeve says as the imp perches on her shoulder.  "Gilbert ran afoul of some of your friends down in the tunnels and requested that we save him from capture and probable destruction.  In exchange for which Gilbert will be indebted to us, devil's word of honor."

Maeve looks at Gilbert meaningfully, running a finger along the edge of the guisarme.

"If he doesn't comply with that debt, Gilbert may quickly find himself wishing that he had."

[Intimidate: 27]

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 7):

"What are you implying?" Gilbert says defensively. "You think I can't make good on my part of the bargain? Is it because of my size?!"

"You saved my life, and you've earned my marker," He says, puffing up his chest and jabbing a thumb into it for emphasis. "You wanna cash in your chips, be my guest! What'll it take to settle the score?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:41, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

Lyriel likewise examines her surroundings, and appears more angry than confused or bewildered.

We were! she says indignantly. Something...pushed me! I felt it! It wasn't the ritual, I was meticulous. I used the same focus and keywords we've always used. I had the correct geo-spatial coordinates worked into the incanation. It shoudl have worked! Her eyes flare, and she seems to ignore the imp entirely, too focused on her rogue spell.

This is...unacceptable!

[OOC I left Stony with Rachel. I didn't think we could take him through the tunnels.]

"I wonder if it could have something to do with that," Maeve says, waving a hand at Boreas' eye, which is blazing in such a way that Maeve is amazed that he doesn't have an accompanying headache.

Boreas does nothing but take in the scenery for a few moments, overwhelmed as he is by the brilliant glow of his eye.  Shortly, it subsides to a low shimmer as he looks over to find Maeve bargaining with that same imp again.

I wonder... suppose this must be Fey'driel.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 11):

...wow...

Zuriel regards the imp, smile fading. "All joking aside, what do we plan to do with him? I'm sure you had a reason to save him. What did you have in mind?"

"As it turns out, there is a task that you could help us with."

Maeve proceeds to outline what the P.A.R.T.Y knows of the Ironwood Band to Gilbert.

"Even if you're unable to actually obtain the Band, any information on its location, any wards surrounding it, would help immensely."

She eyes the imp doubtfully.

"Unless of course you think you're not up to the task.  I'm sure we could find something easier for you to do. . . ."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 14):

"Easier? Easier?!" the imp squawks, appalled. "I'll find your stupid ring, you see if I don't. Of all the ungrateful, indecent, pessimistic..."

His litany of complaints is drowned out by the blast of sulfur and flame that signals his departure from your company. For now.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:23, Mon 04 Aug 2014.

"Well that was...resourceful. I wonder if he can actually pull it off." He looks at the rapidly dissipating cloud of smoke dubiously. I'm sure we won't come to regret this in any way...

Zuriel rummages in his pack, extracting an old sheaf of parchment. This he hands to Boreas. "This map was in the book written in Sylvan from the Feyic Vault. I don't know how dated it is, but the major landmasses shouldn't be any different. Let's see if we can figure out where we are. If you need me to, I or Keef can probably fly up to get a better look at our surroundings."

[Private to DM: Zuriel falls silent, directing his mind toward the Everstaff. Well, I suppose this is it. A trial by fire, Longshank. Can you control yourself amidst such vibrant life, I wonder? I would strongly advise against consuming any of the life force here. The locals would probably take very unkindly to us if you made your nature known.]

Boreas looks over the map, engrossed in the features of Fey'driel.  His tongue sticks slightly out of his mouth, making him look for all the world like a little boy poring over an adventure story.

He smiles slightly, looking up.  No need.

He motions to a vibrant red bird perched on a nearby tree limb.  Come here, friend.  I should like to talk with you.  He produces some seeds from his pouch.

[Wild Empathy 27]

The bird flits over and lands on Boreas' hand.  He listens intently to a series of brief chirps.  Nodding his head to the bird, he asks politely, Can you fly up and tell me what you see nearby?  Look for anything very large, even in the distance.

After nibbling some more seeds, the bird flies up in the air.

[OOC]I'm basically having the bird "aid" me on my Survival check, if that works for you.[/OOC]

As the little bird flies back down, it tweets to Boreas what it saw.  Taking another mouthful of seed, it departs.  Boreas nods in thanks.  He turns back to the map.

[Survival 15]

Lyriel sighs in relief as the imp vanishes. His voice grated on her nerves, and she felt uncomfortable in its presence.

I know we had wanted to visit the wild elves first, but I think maybe we should stay here and make the best of the situation. If my magics are no longer reliable, who knows where we could end up if we try to shift again? I think we should try to find a stable portal...

The priestess furrows her brow worriedly as she runs through their options. I had hoped we'd have Cassie as a guide. But maybe...that's still a possibility.

While Zuriel and Boreas pore over the map, Lyriel makes preparations to begin casting Sending. Before she can start the ritual, however, she is interupted by a hard lump of stone pushing into her shoulder. She turns around in surprise, and her face lights up in happiness.

Stony! But how? - That's so strange. Something must *want* us here... If the revelation disturbed Lyriel, she was comforted by the act of petting the stone pony affectionately. At least, as far as one could pet a statue.

After spending a few moments showering her pet with attention, to which it seemed to respon as any horse would, Lyriel returned to be business of casting.

[Sending > Cassie: Teleported unexpectedly to Fey'driel. Could use a guide. Somebody who can hear nature. We wanted to bring you; do you have a means to come?]

Zuriel looks around, taking a sip of tea and enjoying the sights while Boreas chats with the bird. Taking a look at the map on his own, he attempts to ascertain where exactly they are. His amber eyes gaze off into the distance, looking for landmarks, and he checks the angle of the sun.

[Survival: 24]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 19):

Keef looks around, mostly in knot holes of trees and the like.  He then goes about drawing arcane symbols in the dirt with a stick, consulting books every now and then.

In reply to Keef (msg # 20):

It takes Lyriel ten minutes to complete her magical transmission, which is about as long as the rest of the P.A.R.T.Y. takes ascertaining their location or (in Keef's case) frolicking about haphazardly.

[Private to Lyriel Vesper: Cassie -> We maintain but one access point to Fey'driel, and the way is dangerous. How can I help?]

The bird flutters around in the skies for a while before swooping back down to make its report to Boreas.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "There's the Rushing Sheets far to the north," the bird chirps, more intelligently than you would have expected. "Where the river empties into the valley. Forest goes east and west for miles, all the way to the horizon, and of course the Brambles begin just a short flight south."]

Boreas nods at the bird's report and turn to help Zuriel plot their position on the map with a reasonable degree of accuracy -- if the map is accurate in and of itself, that is.


This message was last edited by the GM at 14:15, Tue 05 Aug 2014.

Boreas looks up from the map, gathering his bearings.

I think Zuriel and I know about where we are.  But let's not go to Du'driel.  I don't like the sound of it.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 22):

The bird chirps some more.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "It was founded upon the ancient ruins of Brohan, you know," the bird chirps. "Nice place, actually. Need anything else?"]

In reply to DM (msg # 23):

Boreas smiles at the bird.  No, thank you friend.

"Agreed.  Du'driel sounds. . . . .ominous at best."  Maeve watches Wes frolic like a colt in the green grass.

"Where to then?  The Lonethorn looks promising.  As does the Basin of Wishes."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:02, Tue 05 Aug 2014.

Zuriel examines the map, frowning. "Honestly, I have no idea where we should be heading. I assume a population center would be the best bet for us finding a symbol of Le'lothriel, but beyond that I'm lost. I was hoping we'd have some guidance. I can ask the Book tonight, but it seems like regardless we probably want to start moving north. If we head up to the falls, we can follow the river around to wherever we want to go."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 26):

I've just heard back from Cassie, apparently there is only maintain one access point, and the way is dangerous. She asked how she could help. Lyriel looks to the others, what do you think?

"If the way is dangerous, we could always travel to wherever this access point is to help her across," Maeve says.  "Or if she'd rather not risk the trip, we can communicate via Sending.  It's not ideal, but it's better than having nothing to go on."

Zuriel voices his agreement with Maeve. "She lost her ability to wield nature's magic. Any crossing would be dangerous for her. I can ask the Book of Answers where the portal will lead her, and as Maeve said, we could potentially help her cross. Until then though, I think we had better work on the one thing we have to go on - finding a settlement, and from there, Le'lothriel's followers. We can keep in contact via Sendings until we know more."

That sounds like the best course of action.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 30):

Agreed, so I'm going to tell her we're working on figuring out where the portal leads so we can potentially meet her, I'm also going to see if she knows how Wildheart is faring. Lyriel pushes up the sleeves of her robes and focuses on the sending.

[Sending> Cassie: We are finding where the portal leads to possibly meet you. In the mean time how is Wildheart's condition?]

"Well, let's be off.  If not a population center, we can at least find a place to camp.  Zuriel, can you summon Shahara?  We'll move faster on horse."

Shahara appears in a flash of light, looking disoriented.

So...now we've clearly left the Hells. It's hard to keep up with you, little one. When you call I have no idea to expect swamps, grass, or devils.

The charger prances around a bit happily. This is much better than any of the other places. The grass here is sweet. Where are we?

Zuriel laughs, watching Shahara and Wes frolic. Even Stony seemed...upbeat, somehow. If a statue could show emotion. This is Fey'driel. Realm of Life. And I agree - altogether an improvement.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:40, Tue 05 Aug 2014.

Once the horses are done with their frolicking, Maeve gives Keef a leg up onto Shahara's back to ride double with Zuriel.

"It. . . .it seems best to have Keef remain close to you," Maeve murmurs to the paladin.  "Where you can keep an eye on Longshank.  I don't know what you said to it, but I know that you two spoke.  I only hope that Longshank has taken whatever you said to heart."

From behind her, Maeve can hear Lyriel and Boreas exchanging heated words, the gist of which seems to be whether or not the P.A.R.T.Y's resident woodsman's smell precludes him from accompanying the priestess on Stony.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 34):

As the P.A.R.T.Y. sets off on horseback, Keef regales Zuriel with stories about being other animals and random musings on what sort of horse, real, celestial, stone or other, the Marquis de Peleanor likely would ride.

In reply to Keef (msg # 35):

The P.A.R.T.Y. quickly decides, as it ambles along a meandering trail that weaves its way around the less horse-friendly aspects of the forest, that it's the climate of Fey'driel that they like best. The temperature is not too hot and not too cool, and the humidity is thoroughly pleasant -- a far cry from the harsh winter back in Aeryis or the infernal heat of the Hells.

The journey toward the rushing sounds of cascading water takes the better part of the day, with the P.A.R.T.Y. reaching the edge of the falls just as the sun's lowest point has begun to kiss the horizon.

The Rushing Sheets is a sight to behold, as water from the feeding river to the north loops lazily to the west before thundering hundreds of feet into the valley below. The river seems to pool around a small island that seems to be at least a few miles from the churning rocks beneath the falls, then continues onward to the west toward parts unknown.

Of particular interest is the island itself, upon which a strange structure appears to have been erected. One might call it a drum tower, if such things could spring forth from the earth like a shrubbery, for it appears to be the appropriate size -- though all of wood, and adorned with branches, leaves, vines, and the like.

The forest extends to the south (from whence you came), east, and north (where it is joined by the river). The path west, however is blocked by the waterfall itself and would require a steep climb or aerial maneuvering to descend. The task looks doable, if difficult, for the P.A.R.T.Y. itself, but impossible for the horses.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:00, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

Zuriel, Shahara, and Keef stop near the bank of the river, gazing in awe at the waterfall.

"It's glorious!" Zuriel says reverently. "I've never seen anything like that before."

His gaze turns to the tower far out in the current below the falls. "I wonder who built that? Exploring seems like it would be difficult. We'd have to be able to fly somehow. It's the first sign of civilization we've seen; do we want to investigate?" He turns to the the two mages in the PARTY. "What magic do you two have that could get us down there without having to leave the horses?"

Looking up at the sun, he adds, "at any rate, we should make camp here for the night either way."

Hmm. Lyriel considers the problem before them. Well we don't want to split up. And we can't leave the horses here. That means our options are either polymorphing into things that can carry the horses, or simply flying.

The priestess turns to Keef inquiringly. Keef, what spells do you have that can help us fly?

[OOC Mass Fly would be ideal, but three castings of regular Fly, or some combination of Fly and Polymorph would also work.]

Maeve meanwhile is delighted to find a bend in the river that forms a pool ideal for washing and swimming. The water is not only just about the perfect temperature but it is also deliciously refreshing.  As she soaks happily, fireflies emerge to create a lovely tableau.  Because of course.

A rustling from some nearby bushes heralds the arrival of a placid doe.  Moments later, an adorable fawn wobbles after its mother.

Oh, you have got to be kidding.

"I've changed my mind," Maeve calls back to the P.A.R.T.Y.  "Let's forget Baldwin's quest and just stay here forever."

Lyriel watches as Maeve happily splashes about in the pool in perhaps the most picturesque setting she had ever seen. OH MY GOSH! Is that a baby deer! Lyriel squees with joy and leaps off of Stony. Before running over to fawn over the furry woodland creatures she takes a moment to turn towards Boreas  still astride Stony, and gives him a very polite yet cheeky grin.

Say Boreas, it might be good for you to take a leaf out of Maeve's book and go for a swim; I even have some soap you can borrow should you desire, and I strongly recommend it. She flashes him another brilliant smile before skipping off to coo over the frolicking forest beasts.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:36, Wed 06 Aug 2014.

Boreas chuckles under his breath as the woodland creatures scurry away from an onrushing Lyriel, muttering under their respective breaths about the "stench of sandalwood on that one."

Hopping out of the saddle, Zuriel wanders over to the riverbank while Shahara splashes happily in the shallows, taking deep gulps from the crystal water. He rummages around in his saddlebags from some soap of his own and then heads upriver a short ways to find a place to bathe.

On the way he passes a distraught Lyriel looking after a fleeing fawn.

This place feels so...alive!

Despite Lyriel's laughable attempt at tact, the water does look inviting.  Boreas joins the others for a dip.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 43):

As expected, Keef's ears perk up at the mention of 'polymorph'.

Oh yes, ghere's LOTS of animals that could get everyone up there... a dragon... no, would scare the horses... a chimera?  It's LIKE a lion so horses should like it...

Zuriel calls back from slightly upstream. "Oooh, can I be a Chimera? It looked like fun. How many do you think we'll need to carry everybody? Would two be enough, do you think?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 45):

I suppose it just matters how many trips we want to take.  Being a Chimera is REALLY.... we'll you'll like it.  If it's cargo capacity we're after, we could go with a Roc...

Without further ado, Keef begins to encant.

(OOC: self into Roc, Zuriel into Chimera)

In reply to Keef (msg # 46):

After washing and scrubbing in the rushing river's only relatively calm section prior to its tumble over the falls, the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself almost out of sunlight. This doesn't stop Keef and Zuriel from transforming into large flying creatures intent upon transporting the P.A.R.T.Y. down the steep cliffs that surround the waterfall and onto the sandy banks where the river resumes below.

It takes a couple trips and all of the day's remaining light, but by the time the spell wears off, the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself at the bottom of the cascading waterfall, resting on the northern bank of an ever-widening river the flows westward from the waterfall. The island you saw from the top isn't even visible from down here, perhaps due to the change in elevation, but you're sure it's somewhere to the west.

The sandy bank isn't particularly wide, providing perhaps 15 feet of space before bumping into the cliffs that surround the valley, but it does look to extend to the west for miles and miles. The more you look at the river at this point, in fact, the more convinced you become that it eventually leads to a much larger body of water -- making this a bay.

Though the sun has vanished, you can see quite well by the illumination of a silver winter moon, full in its splendor, which causes diamonds of light to sparkle off the clear waters. The sound of nocturnal creatures fills the air around you, from the splashing of fish and the hooting of owls to the thrum of various insects.

The P.A.R.T.Y. can proceed down the riverbank to the west, scale the cliff to the north, cross the river to reach the southern bank (which is also abutted by the cliffs), or duck behind the waterfall to the east (provided there is a cave there, which is not at all clear). You may also, of course, make camp and wait until morning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:13, Thu 07 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 47):

Upon completion of their work, Keef dances circles in the sand around Zuriel See, see?  I TOLD you it's the best!

Zuriel returns reluctantly to his normal form, patting Shahara fondly. The charger did not enjoy being carried by Chimeriel, but accepted the situation with stoic steadfastness.

The paladin grins broadly at Keef. "That was fantastic! Flying is...pretty much the best thing ever. Maybe we can do it again tomorrow?" He yawns and stretches, looking at the expanse of the river, or bay, before him. "Perhaps we'd better call it a night, and plan on exploring the island in the morning? I'm exhausted."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:59, Thu 07 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 49):

The P.A.R.T.Y. sets up camp on the riverbank (baybank?), taking care to keep their fire small and under control. Sentries are posted, though they have quite a hard time staying awake between the river (bay?)'s gentle cadence, the perfect moonlight, and the natural symphony all around them.

On Boreas's watch, two deer approach the camp from the west. How they got down from the steep cliffs to amble along the riverbank is not immediately obvious, but they watch the camp with large, soft eyes from a distance of about 50 feet. They make no move to come closer, but instead appear to be conferring with each other.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:43, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Unable to hear more than faint mumbling, Boreas approaches the two deer, hands open, unarmed.

Good evening, friends.  How fare you tonight?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 51):

There is a conversation, of sorts.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "All is well in the woodlands," the doe replies. The other -- a buck with a handsome rack of horns -- bobs its head slightly in agreement. "For now."

The buck paws at the ground with a hoof for a moment, then flicks his head toward the campsite.

"You aren't treefolk, fey, or beasts," he says. "You stink of magic. Foreign magic."

The doe and buck exchange a look, then peer at Boreas intently.

"All but one. Who are you? Where did you come from? We have not seen you before."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:53, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Boreas returns the buck's nod.  I come from the same place as they do, the Material Prime, another aspect of the world.  But part of me, I believe, is from here.  His eye glows.  I have come to learn more about it.  My friend here is Zuriel.  He has family here.  You say all is well for now.  Is there some coming danger that we should be aware of?

Zuriel raises his open palms slowly, not sure how one greeted a deer.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 54):

Lyriel hears a quiet stirring as Boreas heads to the edge of the forest, where two deer are standing. Raising up a bit from her bedroll Lyriel watches the conversation, a longing wistful look in her eye. She frowns, It's like the forest creatures are taunting me, perhaps I should stay here, lest my scent drives them away.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:27, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

Maeve continues to be asleep, unless someone actively comes to wake her up.  Not her watch, after all.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 56):

The deer continue to speak with Boreas.
[Private to Boreas Highwind:
"Danger isn't coming," the buck says, looking over its shoulder briefly. "It has arrived. Fey flee the Basin of Wishes in droves, claiming it has been corrupted. The Brambles were burned, so the treefolk destroyed Du'driel and both sides are now at war. The elven champion Wildheart is powerless, his spirit flickering between this world and Gaia's embrace. In their weakness, order has fled. Lonethorn reeks of magic and men, and the centaur reavers are venturing further and further from The Strand. Even the moon-cursed have returned."

The doe shivers in the moonlight as the buck speaks.

"The Primal Voice is but a whisper... but it speaks of a glass-eyed man cloaked in strange hides and foreign smells. The Fairtheora."

They stare at Boreas.

"Are you he?"]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:00, Fri 08 Aug 2014.

I could be.  The term is unfamiliar.  What is this man said to do?  It sounds as if everything is happening at once here.  What of the events at Lonethorn?  Have the men that overtook it... built anything?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 58):

The deer continue to speak.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "I'm not sure. Haven't been there myself. Men are always building things though, so I wouldn't doubt it. It's the absolute worst way to mark your territory, if you ask me."]

Yes, I suppose you have the right of it there. Boreas laughs. So what is this 'Fairtheora' prophesied to do?

Maeve is briefly awakened by the sounds of murmured conversation.  Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she sees Boreas conferring with a buck in the picturesque moonlight.

Completely unfazed by yet another unutterably lovely encounter with nature, Maeve snuggles back into her bedroll and drifts off once again.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 61):

Snore.

In reply to Keef (msg # 62):

The deer chat a little more.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "To keep watch for threats from beyond, and return at our darkest hour. It is said they will awaken and restore the Primal Voice... it has been waiting for you, if you are he."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:21, Mon 11 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 63):

The various P.A.R.T.Y. members stirring and looking around might notice the faint fluttering of incandescent wings not far away, partially blotted out by the moonlight.

Zuriel sits straighter, squinting to get a better view. He prepares to quietly wake the others should the bearers of the wings prove hostile.

Boreas ponders for a moment.  What is the Primal Voice and what happened to it?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 66):

The deer continue to speak, and the winged things do not seem to approach the party in any way.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "It was silent for a very long time -- it's voice was taken from it. But this was recently returned, and now it whispers hoarsely about its other parts being called home."]

Boreas nods.  Very well, friends.  Thank you.  I will need to get some sleep soon, but if you would be so kind, please alert us if anything dangerous approaches our camp.  Good night.

[Wild Empathy 20]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 68):

The deer bob their heads and lay down near the campsite, and nothing further happens that night.

***

The morning dawns bright and early, as it always does, and the P.A.R.T.Y. awakens to find that they are not alone. Two deer -- a buck and a doe -- are nearby, watching them carefully. They do not appear to be skittish in the least, but neither do they interfere with the P.A.R.T.Y.'s morning rituals.

When the group is ready to depart, the deer flank Boreas on either side as the P.A.R.T.Y. prepares to either scale the cliffs, cross the river, duck behind the waterfall, or head further down the riverbank.

Maeve smiles upon seeing Boreas' new entourage.  She approaches the deer slowly and quietly, wondering if they will accept her scent or shy away as they did with the highborn.

"Hello friends," she says to the deer, knowing full well they can't understand her.  "How should we address them?" she asks of Boreas.

Boreas looks to his new friends.  How rude of me.  What should we call you, our new friends?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 71):

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "I am Glenn, and this is Ivy," the buck responds.]

The deer says something to Boreas.

Glenn and Ivy, it's a pleasure to meet you.  These are my friends. Boreas proceeds to introduce the rest of the PARTY.

I wish we had more time for introductions, but we should head toward that tower we saw if we want to investigate.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 73):

Lyriel stretches and yawns as she picks herself up from her bedroll, blinking the sleep out of her eyes she smiles timidly at the deer, being sure to keep her distance, despite the fact that she would love nothing more than to hug all furry woodland creatures.

After washing her face and putting her clothing in order, today she has settled on a medium weight forest green tunic trimmed in gold embroidery of leaves and acorns, and soft brown leggings, she then proceeds to settle in to her ritual of morning prayer.

[Private to DM: FYI I am taking Heroes' Feast, Water Walk instead of Bull's Strength and Bear's Endurance, and Tongues Instead of Neutralize Poison]

Well I do believe that it is time for a hearty breakfast, and I think I have just the thing.

Lyriel gives the group a brilliant smile pushes up her sleeves and begins whispering an incantation. A soft emerald glow gently shrouds a sturdy looking mahogany table and chair set pops into existence laden with some of the most delicious looking food you have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Soft buttery croissant rolls, pastries in many varieties, whole hams studded with cloves, trays of bacon, mounds of eggs, wedges of cheese, luscious trays of fresh fruit, freshly baked bread in at least 4 different varieties, heaps of jams and freshly churned butter, carafes of steaming hot cofe, even pitchers of fruit nectar popular in the southern kingdoms, and the crowning jewel a sliver fountain of drinking chocolate adorning the center of the table.

In short this is perhaps one of the most fantastic meals you have ever seen, Lyriel gives a thoroughly bemused smile as she revels in the look of shock planted across the faces of most of the party. I do hope you like it, it is my first attempt at conjuration. She extends her hand towards the table, please everyone tuck in!

[Temporary HP: +8]

[ooc: I cast heroes' feast here is what it does:  Every creature partaking of the feast is cured of all diseases, sickness, and nausea; becomes immune to poison for 12 hours; and gains 1d8 temporary hit points +1 point per two caster levels (maximum +10) after imbibing the nectar-like beverage that is part of the feast. The ambrosial food that is consumed grants each creature that partakes a +1 morale bonus on attack rolls and Will saves and immunity to fear effects for 12 hours. You have to be eating for a solid hour too]
This message was last edited by the player at 16:23, Tue 12 Aug 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 74):

Throughout all the discussion, meeting and greeting of wildlife and packing-up, Keef continues to snore on his bedroll.  It is not until after the appearance of the feast and the application of a firm but friendly kick from one of his companions that he rolls over and wakes up.

He then stares dumbfounded at the conjured table.

That's... well that's fanTASTIC!  I mean... flying is fun but... you can't eat flying!  I wish... well it would be a great spell to have... especially when people really need it...

Whatever memories Keef might have been calling up, he abandons them to tuck in.

Chubbs, who was neither surprised nor impressed by the appearance of a grand feast, hops boldly over to it and, finding the most delicious and delectable item, proceeds to squat on it and fall asleep.

Boreas smiles, impressed with Lyriel's new trick.  The food looks delectable and he digs right in.

[8 Temporary HP]

"Shit,"  Maeve says, expressing her admiration in very eloquent terms.  "You don't need to convince me!"

[13 temporary HP]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:51, Tue 12 Aug 2014.

Zuriel's eyes light up in surprise and delight as he awakens to the magnificent spread. After his (extremely hurried) morning rituals, he digs into the thick of the feast. He savors every bite, in particular the bacon and poached eggs, which he sandwiches between croissant rolls.

After an hour of feasting he pushes himself back from the table. "That's it, I can't. If I eat anymore you'll have to roll me down the beach. Lyriel, that was incredible."

After washing his hands, he digs into his pouch for the Book of Answers. Opening the page, he remarks "so it would appear that the portal from the forest leads to the Strand; west of here. We can start moving in that direction, and on the way investigate the tower we saw from the falls?"

[8 Temporary HP]
This message was last edited by the player at 16:12, Tue 12 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 78):

After everyone has eaten -- even Glenn and Ivy nibble at a bowl of fresh watercress and whipped cream that seems made for them -- the P.A.R.T.Y. packs up and prepares to move on toward the tower to the west.

The going is slow and difficult, as the riverbank wasn't made for expeditious travel, but by mid-afternoon the island is in sight. The river has grown during the journey, such that the opposite bank cannot be seen from your vantage point, though the cliffs continue to soar above you to the north. The riverbank continues westward and back the way you came (eastward), and the island itself is a quite a fair distance into the water -- at least a mile, by any reckoning.

Glenn and Ivy look at each other doubtfully, but seem content in following Boreas's lead. For now.

Seeing the island out in the distance Lyriel slowly brings Stony to a halt, if we're continuing out that way I think it may be wise if I help us out a bit so that our journey will be easier.

Boreas, do you think you can explain Water Walk to your friends, I will have to touch them for the spell to work, and I don't want to frighten them. She smiles sincerely while inside she is privately squeeing.

I get to pet them, I get to pet them! Lyriel's eyes gleam rather brightly at the prospect of petting the furry woodland creatures.

Assuming the deer are okay with it Lyriel will offer up a small prayer and touch each person and animal in turn, barely managing to contain her glee when she gets around to Glenn and Ivy.

Don't worry Glenn, Ivy.  She's casting a spell to help us get across the water, and she'll need to touch you to do it.  I'm sure it won't make you smell like that.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:31, Wed 13 Aug 2014.

Maeve gives a Boreas-worthy smirk from where she stands adjacent to Ivy, the doe [presumably] not minding her scent.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 82):

After the spell takes effect, Keef takes a few cautious steps onto the water.   As soon as he sees that it works, he takes off like a constipated squirrel, running loops around the rest of his companions, hopping skipping and jumping on the surfave of the water.

Shahara trots curiously onto the water, taking a few moments to acclimate to the curious sensation of walking on the surface of the water. After prancing around a bit, she settles down and prepares to make the journey across to the mysterious island.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 84):

Chubbs holds back briefly.  He would likely chuckle to himself at how uncomfortable non-toads are on water.  That is, if he cared enough.

Lyriel urges Stony onto the water, who is understandably hesitant at first, he turns to give her what could be described as an incredulous look. Lyriel pats him and reassures him that even though he is stone he most assuredly won't sink.

In reply to DM (msg # 87):

The P.A.R.T.Y., accompanied by Glenn and Ivy, makes its way across the water with a determined effort. Lyriel's magic makes it easier to cover the distance, but there's still a sinking suspicion that it might wear off at any moment -- leaving you at the mercy of the elements in the process.

Presently, your approach takes you to the edge of the island, which soars a good 20 feet or so from the water in which it is perched. Though the waves crashing against the cliff-like edge aren't particularly violent, you're still left with the unenviable task of getting yourselves and your steeds to the "ground level" of the island itself before the ability to walk on water fades.

Glenn and Ivy fidget as they glance up at the top of the cliffs, but don't seem to have anything to say at the moment. Instead, Glenn shakes his head vigorously -- you could swear the action coincides with a brief glitter from Boreas's eye, after which the buck's antlers issue a magical pulse that bathes the cliff before you with a pale green light.

[Casting: Stone Shape]

When the light fades, a roughly hewn ramp extends toward the island proper. Glenn and Ivy prance toward it, taking a moment to daintily flick any lingering water from their hooves in the process.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:04, Wed 13 Aug 2014.

Zuriel and Shahara exchange glances. The mare, insofar as it is possible for a horse to do so, shrugs, then trots up the newly-formed stone ramp behind the deer and Boreas.

Stony eyes the stone ramp and is seems to visibly breathe a sigh of relief, as he heads towards *solid* stone ground. Lyriel shakes her head one can only imagine that like harkens to like.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:20, Wed 13 Aug 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 90):

The P.A.R.T.Y. ascends onto the island proper, and soon finds itself confronted with an interesting scene. The island appears to be a rough patch of rocky land about a third of a mile in area, which is sparsely populated with tufts of grass and shrubbery.

The center of the island is dominated by a squat drum tower that looks more like a tree than a man-made construction. The outer walls are coated with bark and vines, and a large canopy of branches and leaves extends upward and outward from the battlements.

Alive or not, a tower it must be, for there are doors and windows carved into the structure. There are no roads or paths of any kind upon the island, though there are strange piles of stacked stones placed around the edges of the island at regular intervals.

Glenn takes the time to revert the ramp back to rocky cliffs after everyone has reached the top, after which he trots over to stand with Ivy and await the P.A.R.T.Y.'s next move.

Zuriel looks around the island curiously. "I wonder what the stones signify?" he muses to himself. "Boreas, do our friends know anything about this place? Who built - or grew - the tower, perhaps?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 92):

(Autofollow)

"They haven't been on this island before," he responds, after conferring with his woodland allies. "Though they say it smells like it probably isn't men."

Zuriel arches an eyebrow. "I hadn't realized that there were any men living in Fey'driel," he says. "Regardless, we're here now. Might as well give it a thorough search before Lyriel's magic wears off."

The paladin shifts in the saddle has Shahara noses over to the tower curiously.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 94):

Keef follows suit, approaching a stone pile.

In reply to Keef (msg # 95):

Nearest Stone Pile

Keef approaches a stone pile and quickly notes that the stones have not been bound together in any way -- they are simply balanced upon one another. A rune on the top of the stones gives a direction like a compass point; in this case, the rune shows East.

The Tower

Zuriel finds that the tower's door is shut and locked, probably barred from the inside.

Zuriel looks around, and knocks on the door, awaiting a response.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 97):

The Tower

To Zuriel's surprise, a face appears in the warped wood an instant after his knuckles have rapped against the solid grain.

"WHO DARES..." a wizened, earthy voice rumbles, "...TO DISTURB MY SLUMBER?"

Zuriel takes an involuntary step back in surprise, though all things considered, it was a great deal more polite than some of the other talking portals he'd met in the PARTY's travels.

"I apologize for disturbing you," he says politely, "I am Zuriel. We are travelers, foreign to this plane, and are simply trying to get our bearings. Who do I have the honor of addressing?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 99):

The wooden face fades back into the door for a moment, then reappears in a slightly larger context.

"There is no word in your primitive language that does my name justice," the door says after a moment. "You're on Fletcher's Island in the Whispering Bay. Does that... satiate your thirst for knowledge?"

In reply to DM (msg # 100):

(Autofollow)

Boreas raises an eyebrow as the buck nudges him urgently.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "Fletcher's Island? We're on Centaur territory."]

"Centaur territory?" he responds, uncomprehending. "Is that... bad?"

The buck nudges him again and paws at the ground aggressively.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "They are horrible raiders and cutthroats. They get along with none by themselves and, on occasion, the fey."]

"Allies of none but the fey, and then only rarely? I see."

He then turns to see how Zuriel handles the reset of his audience with the door.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:25, Wed 13 Aug 2014.

"It helps," Zuriel hedges. "We're seeking followers of Le'lothriel, as well as a portal that I understand is somewhere on the Strand. Is there any guidance you might provide us?"

Seeing that Zuriel has the door more or less under control, Maeve decides to check out what Keef has found.

"Runes, I see.  What do they do?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 103):

"Of course I could help you," the face in the door says. "The question is, what's in it for me?"

Zuriel suppresses a sigh. "Do you want to philosophical answer, or the pragmatic one?" he asks, somewhat dryly. "The former is that we're investigating planar instability that threatens Fey'driel, and the rest of the planes. Put simply, we're trying to save the worlds, of which I would assume you count yourself a member. As for the latter," Zuriel shrugs. "I honestly have no idea what one such as yourself would want."

A fresh coat of varnish? A new doorhandle? A house with a white picket fence and a lovely doorwife waiting for you with freshly oiled hinges?

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 105):

"Don't be so dramatic, youngling," the voice harrumphs. "I'll tell you what you want to know in exchange for something quite simple: faerie food. I can't fetch my own, as you can clearly see, and I haven't eaten in quite some time."

"What is faerie food, and where can we get it?" Zuriel asks, curious.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 107):

"It's food," the voice responds sagely. "That faeries eat. I suppose it comes from them. Wake me when you have it, or don't awaken me at all."

The face melts back into the door without another word.

"I suppose it's better than food made of faeries," Zuriel murmurs. "I think I'd object to that."

He turns back to Boreas, Ivy, and Glenn. "Any idea where we might be able to find fairies? Or at least, what fairies eat?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 109):

(Autofollow)

"Faeries eat normal sorts of food," Boreas says, after a brief consultation. "It's no different than anything else the elves and animals eat, as far as our friends can tell."

"Oh! Well, then that's easy."

The paladin scrounges through his pack for an assortment of dried breads, meats, and cheeses from which to offer the door a selection. Once he's assembled some options, he knocks once more.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 111):

No, not normal food... well not for us... probably intangible, well, depending on the plane.  it would be substantial but not base...

In reply to Keef (msg # 112):

"WHO DARES..." the voice says as the face reappears on the door. "Oh, it's you again. Back so soon?"

It glances at the various foods Zuriel has proffered with disdain, then sniffs.

"That's not faerie food, you twit. That's disgusting human fare, which I wouldn't eat even if I could digest it properly. Faerie food is served to guests at faerie circles, though those who eat of it who are from the mortal world are never the same after tasting its richness."

The voice grows wistful for a moment, and a rough tongue of sandpaper licks the mouth's lips before the stern disposition reasserts itself.

"If you awaken me again without faerie food in your position, I may have to eat YOU instead. Consider that your final warning."

With that, the face vanishes.

Zuriel refrains from making a face of his own at the now-featureless door. Well, you could have told us that to begin with and saved yourself the trouble...

Aloud, he says "Looks like you were right, Keef. If we want his help, we'll need to find faerie food. Which means finding fairies."

The paladin heaves a sigh, and checks his journal. He notices a curious thing. A new entry appears in his to-do list, right above "Acquire Symbol of Le'lothriel" and "Save the World."

Gaining Fae-vor:

- 0/1 Faeries Befriended
- 0/1 Faery Food To-Go Box Acquired

For a moment, it is as if a grey question mark can be seen floating faintly above the door to the tower.

Zuriel blinks, and the image vanishes.

That was odd...

He turns to the rest of the PARTY. "Well, seeing as I have no earthly idea where to meet a faery, the only thing we know for certain is that the portal to the Wilds is further west, along the Strand. I say we move in that direction for now, and try to meet up with Cassie. Lyriel, do you think you can shoot her another Sending?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:17, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 114):

Zuriel could swear that gray question mark in his vision turns golden just before it vanishes, but dismisses it as a foolish notion.

Unwilling to break down the door or rummage through their collective possessions for the faerie food that a P.A.R.T.Y. member almost certainly already has in their inventory, Zuriel gives up and stands off the side while Keef and Maeve continue to poke around the runes. Lyriel's attention is fixated on the deer traveling with them, while Boreas is content to just stand there looking pretty.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:02, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

Maeve rummages through her pack and tosses Zuriel the elven healing wafer which she received from Keef in exchange for her old cloak.

"Try this."

Boreas runs a hand through his black hair and poses dramatically.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:07, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 115):

Chubbs scoffs, unimpressed by Boreas prettiness.

"Oh, that's a great idea!" Zuriel exclaims, and then a sudden thought strikes him. "Wait, didn't we have a bunch of berries too? And then there's Keef's sandwich? Maybe one of those would fit?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 118):

Keef produces the magically delicious sandwich.

Are we... just going to jam all our food into it and see what it likes?  There is no condescension in Keef's voice, he seems legitimately excited by what will happen if you do.

The berries are all gone though.

"Well...jam it politely," Zuriel clarifies. "But yes. This is fae-food, right? I think? Honestly, it's the best idea I've heard. I have no idea where we'd even find faeries."

Clearing his throat, Zuriel assembles the wild elven wafer and the delicious sandwich and approaches the door once more.

"Actually, I think we do have what you wanted."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:52, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 120):

"WHO D... YOU AGAIN?!" the voice says, agitated. "If you have failed to procure delicious, nutritious faerie food this time, I'm going to- hey, is that a sandwich? It looks delicious..."

The face devours the sandwich and the elven wafer, licks its lips, and smiles.

"Quite good, quite good. Now then, what was it you wanted to know?"

As he feeds the door the items, Zuriel ensures that the smallest morsel of the delicious sandwich remains. This he returns to Keef.

"We'd like to know more about this land," Zuriel says. "Specifically, we're looking for followers of Le'lothriel. We're also trying to find the portal that leads from Aeyris Prime to Fey'driel. And anything else you think it would behoove travelers unfamiliar with this world to know."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 122):

Lacking dextrous fingers, Zuriel is quite unable to deftly rescue the sandwich from the voracious wooden face.

"Le'lothriel is worshiped by the elves, fools that they are. You can find them in Du'driel... or you could, before it was destroyed. They're pretty much everywhere, but a formal city is said to exist in the northeast."

He frowns for a moment, thinking about the rest of the question.

"Aeryis Prime and Fey'driel were once connected by a series of portals known as waygates, but the damnable elves destroyed them all when they wrote that realm off for good. All but one, that is, and as you've said, it is hidden in The Strand."

"There is too much you'd need to know about this world to keep you entirely safe," the face concludes. "The elves dislike the humans, but like the beasts. The faeries are a mischievous lot that don't really like anyone, but neither do they dislike anyone. The treefolk and the elves and the men are all at war with one another, with faeries and beasts in the crossfire. And of course, there's the centaurs... raiders and butchers, the lot of them. They keep to the coastlines most of the time."

The voice coughs and hacks a little, then spits out a gob of disgusting slime that splatters on the paladin's immaculate boots.

"That's what I think of centaur," the voice says. "Now, I bid you a good morrow."

As the face vanishes, Zuriel notices that the gob of slime contains an ornately carved ivory object... a key.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:11, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

"Du'driel is no more then?" Zuriel echoes, wrinkling his nose at the gob of spit on his boots. "I suppose our maps are rather out of date."

He takes the key and turns it in the lock.

"I wonder who built - or grew - this tower, then, if not the elves? Treefolk, perhaps?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 124):

Strangely enough, the door swings open easily... without the assistance of the key. Whatever lock it was meant for, it is not this door. Regardless, the door is now ajar.

Zuriel shrugs, and continues  through the door to explore the tower proper.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 126):

The interior of the tower is as clean and immaculate as a dollhouse. It contains furniture and coat pegs and such, all made of wood, but contains nothing perishable. There is no food, no clothing, no adornments of any kind -- just smooth, perfectly sanded wood. Of particular note is the complete absence of torch brackets, hearths, or fireplaces throughout.

The tower spans only four floors, after which the structure truncates at the parapet level, from which branches adorned with leaves and foliage spew forth. From the top, you can see for miles... confirming your suspicion that this is, in fact, a bay. The water continues to expand to the west in an ever-widening cone-shaped wedge until it disappears on the horizon.

After pausing to admire the view from the top, Zuriel conducts a thorough search of the tower, looking for a keyhole of some kind.

Finding none, Zuriel returns to the main level. He looks around at the island. "Well, I have no idea what the purpose of the tower is. Perhaps we can make a quick search of the rest of the island. These rock piles strike me as unusual. Then we should probably head back to the mainland before Lyriel's spell wears off. If what the tree said is true about the Centaurs, we'll want to be extra vigilant while we're searching for this portal."

[OOC - Unless anybody has any objections, I propose a quick search of the island, looking at more of the piles and whatnot (Do they all say East?) before heading back and continuing towards the Strand.]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 129):

It's a giant... compass?

"It would appear so," Zuriel agrees, "though I wonder why it was built? I doubt travelers regular swim to the middle of the river to check what they could verify by looking at the sun. This whole island is peculiar."

He turns to the young mage. "Sorry about the sandwich, Keef," he says, somewhat sheepishly. "I tried to save a bite so it grow back, but..."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:55, Thu 14 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 131):

The various stones don't actually seem to conform to a compass pattern, with the directions varying wildly. Each rune is slightly different, and like none you've seen before.

The orientation of some of the runes changes abruptly from time to time, with the directional label altering with them. Others remain remarkably steady.

"This island keeps getting stranger and stranger," Zuriel muses. "I wonder if this may have been the site of one of those waygates the...door...was referring to? It could be that there's some rift activity remaining. Sazed would have known..."

I miss the strange old mage, for all his crude ways.

He hooks his thumb at the shore behind him. "If there's nothing else to see here...shall we?"

More questions for the Book...
This message was last edited by the player at 01:13, Fri 15 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 133):

Keef shrugs.

That's ok.  My old master was a grocer, and he always said not to keep a sandwich in your pocket more than a week.

Keef watches the directional runes vary for a while.

Is it... I mean, is it a tracking system?

In reply to Keef (msg # 134):

Keef's observation may have merit, but before it can be pondering upon too much, a burst of sparks shatters the morning tranquility by exploding in the air far to the west.

The colorful blast is not random, however; the lingering beads of color depict the unmistakable sign of a horseshoe. A deep-throated horn blast can be heard from the same direction, after which hundreds of birds take to the sky -- flying away from these noisy distractions.

Glenn and Ivy look at each other, then nudge Boreas urgently.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "Centaurs on the approach!"]

In reply to DM (msg # 135):

(Autofollow)

"Our friends say that centaurs are on their way."

Zuriel looks over at the noise, mildly concerned. "Can they...cross the water?" he asks dubiously.

Nonetheless, he loosens his longsword in its scabbard.

"Horses can swim.  No reason to assume that these fellows can't."

"Well...yeah. But at the speed of, you know. Swimming. We can just run on the water."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 137):

The P.A.R.T.Y. prepares itself for battle, keeping an eye on the horizon for some sign of an advancing dust cloud or herd of trampling hooves.

Their wondering eyes are not treated to sights such as those, however. Instead, a large ship appears on the horizon -- directly beneath the glittering horseshoe.

This is not an ocean-devouring sailing ship like the ones that dominate the harbors of Aeryis Prime. Instead, it's a curiously built cutter comprised of three entirely separate ships, which are attached to one another by ropes, chains, and planks.

The bulk of the vessel is comprised of a long, flat pontoon, which is suspended above the water on either side by longboats that look quite a bit like aquatic skis. These "feet" are longer than the pontoon, jutting in front of and behind the main body like horns or tusks.

These longboat "skis" are large enough to hold passengers of their own, and from the looks of the construction, it seems as though they can probably detach from the main vessel to create a total of three distinct ships if they wanted to. There is a lookout or navigator in the front of each longboat, and quite a few centaur milling about in all three sections.

The main pontoon area has a single cabin that takes up the middle third of the ship, and also comes equipped with a single mast -- it's more of flagpole, really -- on which a large banner flutters proudly in the wind. The symbol upon it is the same horseshoe as before, superimposed in front of a tidal wave and electrified by a bolt of lightning. The overall effect gives the impression that the banner's creator couldn't decide which design they liked best, and so used all of them.

Lacking a sail, the only means of locomotion seems to be from a series of enormous paddlewheels. Each longboat has one huge wheel behind it, and the pontoon boat-like main hull has two smaller ones. A careful glance reveals several centaur charging in place before the wheels, somehow converting their forward momentum into energy for the paddlewheels.

This strange contraption seems to have no trouble navigating the river/bay, and is coming straight toward the island.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:50, Fri 15 Aug 2014.

"Ah," Zuriel notes simply. "That would solve that particular problem."

He glances around. "Well, this place seems as defensible as any should negotiations fall through. With any luck, they'll allow us to pass. Otherwise..."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 141):

(Autofollow)

"Glenn and Ivy don't think it's a good idea to let them land," Boreas says prettily, his eye glinting in the process.

"Tell Glenn and Ivy that they display remarkable tactical acumen," Zuriel says, nodding in agreement as he counts up the number of Centaur on the ship. "Let's ride out to meet them. If we need to, we can fall back and use the ramp, and then tower as choke points. Or attempt to outrun them."

Zuriel turns to Keef. "Keef, boats and fire mix remarkably poorly. *If* things get to fighting...this is the type of situation where fireballs would be appropriate and unlikely to cause collateral damage." A faint grin plays at the corner of the paladin's face.

The paladin hops up into Shahara's saddle. Placing a palm against her neck, he mutters a few words. Golden chainmail barding flickers into existence, cladding the warhorse in dazzling barding. At the same time, a white light encircles both Zuriel's and Shahara's heads. After it fades, the movements of the two seem much more coordinated.

[Casting Golden Barding; One Mind]

[Private to DM: +5 AC to Shahara, +2 attack for both Shahara and Zuriel while Zuriel is mounted. Remaining spells: Devastating Smite, Shield Other, Angelskin]

He then leads Shahara down the ramp and out onto the surface of the water.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:06, Fri 15 Aug 2014.

Before Zuriel departs, Lyriel takes a handful of four acorns from her pouch. She incants a few words over them, causing them to glow and smolder like embers, though the remain cool to the touch. She hands one each to Boreas, Maeve, and Zuriel, keeping one for herself.

[Casting Fire Seeds (Acorn)]

Don't worry, they're not hot...yet. Be careful though, if you toss them, they will explode. The priestess takes a moment to enjoy the look of shock on her fellow PARTY members faces. She turns to a slightly disappointed-looking Keef. Your magic is more potent, Keef. If we need fire, you're our best man for the job. These acorns are just for backup.

[OOC - The acorns can be thrown up to 100 feet. When they hit their target, they explode, dealing 11d6 damage to the primary target and 11 damage to everything else within 10 feet. Combustible material is set ablaze.]

Lyriel follows Zuriel out onto to the water. As the ship draws into closer distance, she incants a few spells on the PARTY.

[Barkskin > Self
Magic Circle against Evil > Self
Protection from Evil > Maeve
Eagle's Splendor > Zuriel]

Satisfied, she nods, taking up a defensive position. Ready to fight, if it came to that. The legends I've heard about centaurs are...disturbing. I didn't even think they were real until today. I wonder how much is true...
This message was lightly edited by the player at 15:27, Fri 15 Aug 2014.

"Another new piece of spellwork?  Very cool," Maeve says, examining her acorn with great interest.  She pats Wes on his flank.

"Stay on shore with Glenn and Ivy, boy.  They'll know what to do if there's trouble."

She walks out onto the water with her friends.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 145):

Keef makes his own preparations, namely coating himself in a layer of reddish gold magical armor.

Noting that everyone else is preparing with acorns, Keef locates a suitable one on the ground and holds in ready in his right hand.

He then carefully prepares the Lion Bag in his left and follows the rest of his companions.

[Private to GM: [OOC: cast Battleclad]]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:53, Fri 15 Aug 2014.

In reply to Keef (msg # 146):

As the ship comes closer, you can get a better look at the figurehead, which looked like an ugly knot of wood from a distance. Upon close inspection, you can see that it is instead a wooden face similar to the one you spoke with at the tower, though probably not the same one. The face is howling exhuberantly with every splash and spray of water that comes its way, though the grim-faced centaurs pay it little heed.

The ship continues to make its approach, but it'll be a little while yet before it arrives.

"So. . . .does anyone actually know anything about centaurs?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 148):

Keef looks over his shoulder at the staff lashed to his back.

Longshank?

"Not much, honestly. I only know them from fairy tales, really. And those tales also included chickens who were really polymorphed archmages, and beanstalks that served as ladders to the Heavens. So who knows how much is actually true?" Zuriel shrugs.

"I suppose we're about to find out, one way or another."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 150):

"Centaur are an ancient race, but individually short-lived," the Everstaff's voice rumbles. "They were displaced when men and elves came to Fey'driel, and have never forgiven them for it."

Glenn and Ivy confer with Boreas, and the woodsman adds their take, as well.

"They're raiders, brutes, and bloodthirsty savages that pillage and hunt and reap, but never sew," he translates.

Zuriel draws his sword. "I see. Well, I doubt talking will do much good, but we should still try. I doubt pretty words will sway them." The paladin turns to Maeve. "Our best bet will be to convince them we're not worth the trouble, and will be gone soon."

Maeve wonders how or why the centaurs' penchant (or lack thereof) for needlework is of any significance, but figures that is neither here nor there.

[I couldn't resist.]

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 153):

The P.A.R.T.Y. races out onto the water with the aide of Lyriel's ongoing spell, approaching the ship head-on. When the vessels gets within hailing distance, it slows to a halt. Centaur mill about, armed with harpoons, javelins, spears, and bows, and one wearing a dapper bicorn cap steps to the prow.

"I think you're lost, mates," he announces. "But don't you worry -- we'll be happy to set you back on the straight an' narrow. Fer a modest fee, o'course."

The centaur grins evilly, and the other centaurs begin to laugh.

"Now, be quick about it! Who ye be, where from, and why yer prancing about atop the waves instead of being in a proper ship?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:48, Sat 16 Aug 2014.

Zuriel regards the lead centaur calmly. "We're travelers," he says simply. "Just passing through. We're not lost. And we're on the water because we do not have a ship. So we improvised." He shrugs nonchalantly.

"We appreciate your concern, though."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 155):

"D'ya hear that, lads?" the centaur laughs. "They're travelers! They're not lost at all."

The crew finds this riotously funny, and it takes a few seconds for order to be restored. When it does, the speaker continues.

"Listen up, laddie buck," he says. "If you're not lost, then yer trespassing. An' that carries its own set of consequences."

His eyes take on a dangerous quality.

"So y'might be wanting to revise yer answer when I put y'to the question again: who are you, an' why are ye here?"

He shifts he weight slightly, causing the jangling and clanging of the various weapons he carries slung along his hindquarters to be particularly noticeable.

"An' mind ye, answer well. Y'won't be gettin' a third chance."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:55, Sat 16 Aug 2014.

Zuriel returns the centaur's scrutiny unwaveringly. "It is as we said. We are travelers from Aeyris Prime. We're here for several reasons, not the least of which involves ensuring the stability of this - and all - realms."

"So...if you're well-wishers who are simply interested in helping travelers, your concern is touching, but you needn't bother on our behalf."

The tone in Zuriel's voice betrays how likely he thought that particular scenario was. "If you're wardens of this land, then know we have no interest in poaching on your land or causing trouble while we're here. If you're here expecting easy prey from lost travelers..."

The paladin narrows his eyes, making his own weapons plainly visible. "We aren't looking for trouble, but are more than capable of handling ourselves should it find us. We don't carry much of value, and what we do carry we aren't going to part with. Quite simply, we're not worth your time."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:26, Sun 17 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 157):

"Oh, is that so?" the centaur says, putting his hands on his hips. "Ship, what do you think?"

The face on the figurehead's plank scrunches up its eyes for a moment.

"They carry magical items of tremendous value. And strength," it says lazily. "Especially the boy."

The centaur nods.

"Right, then. Let's have a look, shall we?"

Two dozen centaur ready their ranged weapons behind the captain.

"Or did you still intend to resist?"

Zuriel sighs. Why do they always insist on fighting?

"Last chance: Back. Off."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 159):

"It's 30 to 5. Why would I do that?"

Zuriel's shield thrums with golden energy as a tangible holy aura bolsters the already formidable mithral bulwark.

[Divine Shield: +8 AC]

The paladin mutters a brief incantation, and holy energy crackles around and through his armor. What skin is visible under his armor seems altered - almost golden - and gives off a faint light.

[Angelskin: Damage Reduction 10 / evil]

Shahara rears, and Zuriel holds his drawn longsword aloft. The late morning sun glints dazzlingly off his armor, scattering sunlight into the rippling surface of the bay. Those who notice the paladin's shadow note the wings appear more substantial than ever.

"Because we are unlike any other travelers you have ever encountered. Turn back now, or we'll do this world a service and rid it of another group of thugs who live by taking from those they think weaker."

[OOC - if anybody else wants to add anything please feel free. Maeve, if you want to do an intimidation check, Zuriel will aid]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 161):

All of this, minus the angelskin, can happen. The centaur response is, of course, predictable: wide-eyed stares and twanging bowstrings.

~~ Disposition ~~

The P.A.R.T.Y. is within 1 move action of the ship, but would be hard-pressed to engage anyone in melee combat without the assistance of ranged weapons or flight. The hulls of the lower "skis" rise a good 10 feet above the water, and the middle pontoon segment towers 15 feet above the waves. There are roughly 30 centaur crewmen, including the captain, all of which are lightly armored and heavily armed. The ship's figurehead is not to be discounted, as it thrums with energy of its own.

~~ Initiative ~~
Boreas (who gets a free buff as well, as requested in the OOC forum)
Keef
Centaur Crewmen
Maeve
Lyriel
Centaur Captain
Zuriel
Figurehead
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:03, Sun 17 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 162):

Keef looks down at his lion bag and acorn.

They mean to kill us?  For what?  We were only...

Keef looks to see the faces and expressions on his companion's faces, but sees only the hardened stares that precede combat.

Are we... I mean... is this to the death?

There is an instantaneous ripple in front of Boreas' left arm, accompanied by a faint "pop" sound as the air in front of it is displaced by a moving wall of force.

[Free Action: Activate Ring of Force Shield]

Looks like it.  Those arrows are pointy enough, after all.

As soon as the centaurs make an aggressive move, Boreas throws his glowing acorn directly at the captain.

[Ranged Touch 23]

It strikes him, exploding in flames and burning everything in 10 feet.  Flames lick over the deck of the ship, causing nearby centaurs to prance wildly to avoid them.

[Damage to Captain: 50, no save]
[Damage to Others: 11, Reflex half]

He moves up toward the pontoon, using it for cover.

[OOC]Decided not to take the free buff.[/OOC]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 164):

If that's how these things are now...

Keef begins to gesture and mutter arcane words.  His eyes glow red and when he exhales, there is a small puff of red and green tinted air as if it were a cold winter day.

You will all want to... get back... now! he warns his companions.

Keef steps closer to the boat and coughs violently.  From his lips, a tiny green dot flies upward to the deck of the ship and begins to bloom and expand into a billowing curdling cloud of thick yellow-green fumes, consuming the deck of the ship.  This mixes with the smoke from the fire Boreas has begun, throwing the already frightened crew into a mess of coughing, burning and fleeing.

[Private to DM: [OOC: Cloudkill.  Not sure on HD of centaurs etc... d20.org says it has a range of 100ft+ and spreads into a 20ft radius cloud which then moves away from me so my assumption was I can have it appear right on the front deck, expand to cover much of the ship then gradually roll away from us] ]

In reply to Keef (msg # 165):

The damage caused by Boreas's fiery acorn -- which causes the bulk of the pontoon and skis to erupt into hungry torrents of flame -- is nothing compared to the devastation caused by Keef's spell.

The churning, roiling mass of choking smoke and gas rolls across the ship like a vaporous ooze, causing the panicked crewmen to flee in all directions. Those who do not collapse into gasping and hacking fits or simply die outright hurl themselves into the water to avoid the fumes.

So complete is the chaos that not a single crewman is available to draw their bow -- though the captain looks relatively unphased despite his horrible burns. Wrapping a bandana around his face (not that this helps), he stomps about of the deck bellowing at his crewmen using words so foul that only a sailor can fully appreciate them.

The ship's face looks completely unharmed by the deathly fog, but the lapping flames have rendered it wide-eyed in fear.

"Put me out, damn you! PUT ME OUT!"

OOC: Pass action for the crew. No active crew remain to be targeted -- 29 centaur are either dead, incapacitated, or overboard, with the ship between them and the P.A.R.T.Y. Neither captain nor ship have taken their action yet, as it is not their turn, but both look pretty beaten up. Maeve, having the most nautical knowledge among you, would be quick to point out that the ship's definitely going down unless the flames are extinguished soon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:09, Mon 18 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 166):

Keef looks at the rest of P.A.R.T.Y. particularly Maeve and Zuriel.

Can we... if they surrender can we save him?

Maeve whistles a jaunty nautical tune as she lobs her acorn at the centaur captain.

[Ranged Touch 23]

More flames explode into being to join the already impressive conflagration.

[Damage: 47]

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 168):

The captain -- having his general resilience damaged by the killing cloud -- goes down in a gout of acorn and fire. It smells like a delicious nut bread might smell if it was coated in lard and lit on fire.

Gross.

The figurehead is the only remaining target on the soon-to-be-sinking ship.

Lyriel, seeing nothing living other than the ship, decides to wait to see how the 'burning poison situation' develops.

Zuriel surveys the scene sadly, though not without a tinge of satisfaction. A just end.

He turns to Keef. "Perhaps, if there are any alive. I doubt they have much interest in fighting." He turns his gaze to the ship itself.

"Well, we did warn you," he says. "Do you speak for them?" he asks the boat. "We are willing to accept the surrender of those still alive. Including you. If you surrender, we can help put out the fires. It occurs to us that we could make use of the services of a ship."

The paladin speaks loudly, voice carrying over the crackle of flames and the moans of the injured and dying.

In reply to DM (msg # 169):

Keef watches the cloud of noxious fumes roll over the ship and the water beyond, some of it mixing and rising with the black smoke of the ship.

He stands ready to help the face if it should accept Zuriel's terms.

In reply to Keef (msg # 172):

The face makes an odd noise, then spits a disgusting blob of bile straight up. It splatters around the figurehead, immediately quenching the flames in its general vicinity, but it does little to combat the rest of the blaze brewing up all around it.

"PUT ME OUT PUT ME OUT PUT ME OUT PUT ME OUT!"

~~ END COMBAT ~~
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:49, Mon 18 Aug 2014.

Zuriel shrugs, and then walks forward with Shahara into the miasma, intent on putting out the blaze and saving the lives of any Centaur who are willing to surrender.

Seeing no obvious ramps (surprising) or ladders (unsurprising), Zuriel clambers up on the deck from Shahara's saddle. Surveying the carnage, it would appear that none of the centaur are left alive. He then proceeds to put out the blaze, beckoning the PARTY up into the ship via their horses.

The noxious fumes seem to have no affect on the paladin. Another side benefit, it would appear, of the delicious breakfast prepared by Lyriel that morning.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:00, Mon 18 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 174):

The P.A.R.T.Y. has no trouble scrambling aboard, though the horses do threaten to tip the boat when they make their leap into the skis. As the ship was designed with centaur in mind, once aboard, the horses are quite comfortable.

Aside from the smoke and fire and poisonous gases, of course.

After a good deal of fire-quenching, the ship is rendered seaworthy... in the strictest sense of the word. The mast is charred and blackened the entire way up, and the hull is badly weakened in several places. The paddlewheels, thankfully, remain intact.

In reply to DM (msg # 175):

Keef climbs back down from the boat once the fire has been quenched and marches over in front of the wooden face.

He points a single finger at it menacingly.

We're done now... no more fighting....  Agreed?

In reply to Keef (msg # 176):

"Aye, captain," the face parrots back at Keef. "You got it."

"Alright then." Zuriel surveys the destruction after helping load the horses and deer. "First things first, I suppose. Who, or what are you, exactly? We met a door like you. He gave us this; any idea what it is?" Zuriel holds up the scrimshaw key given to him by the door on the island.

"Well, first things first. . . we probably shouldn't stay out here too long without attempting some sort of repair.  Lyriel, is any of your magic going to be useful here?"

[I know Lyriel's got Mend, but I don't know if that's just for little repairs.]

Lyriel shakes her head. Mending can't reconstitute burned material.  It's actually an interesting conundrum. Mending essentially recombines and rejoins fractured and fragmented things. It can't make something from nothing, or turn one thing into something else. Which suggests that burned wood - even charred wood - is a fundamentally different material from unburned wood. Which would explain why in alchemy ashes and embers function so differently from living or even deadwood.

The priestess looks around, realizing that absolutely nobody is following her impromptu lecture. She looks down, somewhat dejected. So...no. It won't work.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 180):

"My name is Blaine," the face says, "though I've responded to Ship for so long that it'll do in a pinch. Used to live in a tree, but it was cut down and shaped into this figurehead, so... here I am."

"And that's a key," the face says, squinting at it carefully. "A magical one, at that. If it came from one like me, it'll likely get you through the gate."

"Alright Blaine. Here's the deal. We didn't want this to come to a fight. We've got business to attend to here in Fey'driel, starting on the Strand. Then we'll be on our way. I don't know if you served the Centaur willingly, or were forced to serve them. Either way, f you help us out, then after we're done here we'll help you get to where you need to go. Whether that's back to the Centaur, or somewhere else you'd prefer to be."

He looks at the face of the living wood curiously. "What gate are you referring to, incidentally?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 182):

"The gate to th..." Blaine begins, then pauses. "Nowhere. The key leads to nowhere, and it would be best if you just forgot about it."

An awkward silence fills the air, after which the face begins to whistle. After far too many verses, he pipes up again.

"So, ah... if you want to go somewhere, you'll probably want to strap into the wheels. We're dead in the water and I'm not as ship-shape as I'd like. There's a convenient beach we can land at not an hour downstream. Close to the forest, and thus the trees you'll need to repair me."

He smiles contentedly and begins whistling again, horribly off-key.

Just going on the obnoxious whistling and the close-mouthedness regarding the gate, Maeve can already tell that the boat is going to be a pain.

Zuriel narrows his eyes at the boat's sudden unwillingness to talk, but doesn't say anything. Instead, a sudden idea blossoms in his mind, and he struggles to suppress an exceedingly wicked grin.

The paladin wanders off to find Keef. "I have an extremely important job for you, Keef," Zuriel says, clasping the young mage on the shoulder. "Our new friend Blaine is being less than forthcoming with us, and we need him to cooperate. I'd like to utilize one of my personal favorite methods of interrogation. One that you're perfect for. Don't worry!" He holds up his hands before Keef can protest. "Nothing violent, and nothing mean. This isn't good Watch / bad Watch. Quite simply, I need you to talk to him, as much as you can. Explain to him the difference between planar infractions and planar infarctions, catalog the different animals you can polymorph into, tell him everything you know about lions, sing him your sea chanties. It doesn't matter. The point is to wear him down until he talks willingly. Can you help us with this?"

[Provided that Keef is game for Zuriel's request], Zuriel leads him over to the figurehead. "Blaine, we'll be in the back planning our next move. After the horses are strapped in, go ahead and start moving south to where you suggested we can make repairs. Oh, one more thing." Zuriel gestures to Keef, giving him a gentle nudge forward. "Keef here is going to keep a lookout with you. Give us a holler if you feel like chatting with us instead."

The paladin turns his back to the figurehead, smiling deviously, and goes about the task of strapping in Stony and Wes to the treadmills. Shahara gives him a look that says quite simply Only if we're being chased by a flight of ravening dragons, and even then, probably not.

Once they are underway, he will help dispose of the dead Centaur on deck.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 00:39, Tue 19 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 185):

With only two horses to do the work, the P.A.R.T.Y. is in a bit of pickle. Strapping one horse each to the skis provides forward momentum and the ability to turn, but the entire craft moves quite sluggishly. Strapping them to the pontoon's wheels provides a good deal of thrust, at the expense of maneuverability. Which setup the P.A.R.T.Y. chooses is up to them.

Either way, the figurehead casts a dubious eye toward Keef as the "lookout" steps forward.

"I can see just fine, y'know... but I don't mind the company."

Little does he know what he's in for.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:24, Tue 19 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 186):

You... you're interested in lions?

Thus begins Keef's dissertation.  It is a few moments before the subject of lions moves onto related topics of lion bags and things that are "not quite lions".  Keef carefully explains how this relates to the Pampered Lion and each dish that was served there.   Metamorphosis, or polymorphism, is naturally the next topic as Zuriel suggested, and branches into planar conductivity due to the similarities found between dragons of each plane.  Once planar travel and contrativity is on the table, a whole world of possibilities to discuss the interaction of various physical forces intra-aether, as well as what kinds of clowns Keef has seen.

This continues to...

[Going to suggest we put Wes and Stony on the skis for maneuverability. If we need to go somewhere fast suddenly, we can stick Shahara on the main treadmill.]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 188):

Regardless the decision about propulsion, the ship makes its way to Blaine's prescribed landing spot in little more than an hour. Here, the cliffs to the north fade away and transition into a rocky beach that eventually leads to a buffer of grass before the forest's edge. The bay continues in all other directions.

"Child," Blaine's voice says, tinged with tired desperation. "If I tell you a riddle, will you stop talking until you guess it?"

Zuriel interrupts Keef's truly magnificent job of wearing down the boat to ask a question. "Now that we're here, what do you need for repairs? Does regular wood work?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 190):

"Any wood will do," Blaine responds, grateful for the reprieve. "But unless it's specially treated with tar or sap or similar resins, the winds and water will quickly destroy it."

The ship is designed such that it can be brought entirely onshore, though care must be taken to keep the skis from being damaged by the rocks. Once firmly on dry land, the P.A.R.T.Y. is free to disembark.

The sun hangs midway through its arc, with nary a cloud in the sky.

"Not a problem. If you show me how to treat the wood, I can make the pitch." He pats the chalice. "But the local trees - are they just trees, or are they like...you? It's just that anytime I've been to a place so in tune with nature, I've never felt comfortable chopping down the forest..."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 192):

Is the answer time?  No... thyme?  Is it lions?

In reply to Keef (msg # 193):

"Well, check them first," Blaine shrugs. "But this section of the forest isn't known for being home to treefolk, nymphs, dryads, or faeries, so you'll probably be fine."

"Good to know." Zuriel and Shahara will accompany the away team to gather wood. He looks amongst the Centaur for suitable axes and hatches for woodworking purposes [and other loot as well] before disembarking.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 195):

The P.A.R.T.Y. has no trouble finding axes or trees to fell with them, but actually repairing a ship takes considerable skill to do properly.

OOC: Anybody have the appropriate knowing or craft skills? Who wants to wing it?  You'll get a circumstance bonus for the voice's help.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:56, Wed 20 Aug 2014.

[Zuriel will suggest waiting until the morning to conduct repairs. He will prepare Divine Insight, as well as request a buff from Lyriel in whatever the relevant stat is.]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 197):

Keef is totally willing to wing it.

After all: It can't be THAT different from planar extramplolination... or is it?

In reply to Keef (msg # 198):

Treefolk?  Nymphs?  Dryads?  AND Faeries?

Unless the face talks about these, Keef will launch into a diatribe concerning his theories, opinions and rumors he's heard about such folk.

In reply to Keef (msg # 199):

The P.A.R.T.Y. wanders into the forest, axes in hand, and managers to select a few trees that look uninhabited and easy to clear. It's hard, sweaty work, as the hatchets and tactical hand-axes aren't really the ideal tools for the job, but eventually the P.A.R.T.Y. is able to accumulate a sizable collection of timber and haul it back to the ship.

Soon enough, the ship has been pushed back into the bay, and the horses tethered the the paddlewheels have the vessel meandering further west.

The rest of the day is relatively uneventful, and as night falls the P.A.R.T.Y. is faced with a choice: sleep on the ship, or make landfall. There's no sign of a storm, but in a realm of magic, who's to say when one might show up unannounced?

Zuriel looks out across the water. "Let's make camp on the ship tonight. The weather looks clear. If things change, we can beach Blaine and take cover."

He glances over to the figurehead, still being talked at in an endless stream by Keef. "Blaine, are you up for a change of lookout?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 201):

Blaine glares at the paladin, but does not seem ready to give him the satisfaction he craves quite yet.

"Boy," he says instead, turning to Keef. "It's time for one of the riddles I mentioned. I've traveled to many places over the span of my life -- at one point, two crewmen stood on opposite sides of the ship, with one looking east and the other looking west. The funny thing was that they could see each other clearly at the same time. Tell me, how did that come to pass?"

Zuriel suppresses a smile, and returns to the other end of the ship. He thought he knew the answer, but was fully confident that Keef was more than capable of coming to it unaided.

Instead he speaks with Lyriel. "You know, we're not sure how long we were gone, exactly. We should probably check in with Choso. Tell him that should the Grand Marshall do something stupid, that my father would take steps to correct him." The paladin scratches his head thoughtfully. "Though the problem still remains of how to transport an army accurately and quickly across planes. Perhaps Mallory would have some ideas?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 203):

Boreas's eye ignites with an inner fire as night falls, then fades back to normal.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "The Strand is an unnecessary danger, to collect an unnecessary ally. Time is short, and your presence is needed. The others have already returned, but your gift is the key that binds the rest together. If you cannot come to us, we will come to you."]

Glenn and Ivy, who have totally been on the ship the whole time after you definitely went back to the first island to retrieve them shortly after capturing the ship in the first place, huddle close together to watch the sunset from the prow of the pontoon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:09, Wed 20 Aug 2014.

Lyriel nods, and spends several minutes casting a Sending to Choso. [Private to DM: Lyriel looks around at the two deer huddled together at the prow of the ship, and resolves to take action. [Casting Tongues]

After concluding the ritual, she hesitantly approaches Glenn and Ivy. She holds several (non-explosive) acorns in her outstretched palm. [Private to DM: Um, excuse me? Glenn? Ivy? I thought you two might be hungry, and I had some extra acorns, so... She looks at the two deer hopefully.]

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 205):

The deer consent to being fed and, to a lesser extent, petted by the cleric.

OOC: Watch order? Further conversation? I can keep rushing the plot along if you want, but I also wanted to give everyone a chance to play.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:15, Wed 20 Aug 2014.

In reply to DM (msg # 206):

The night passes relatively uneventfully, except for the shimmering reflection of a face peering up at the ship from the waves. Everyone sees it at different points of the watch, clearly visible in the moonlight, but it does not seem sentient or communicative like the various faces you've encountered elsewhere. Attempts to interact with it in any way are utterly ignored.

***

Morning dawns bright and clear, after which the P.A.R.T.Y. continues its voyage and completes the necessary repairs to the ship. By midday, a body of land can be seen off to the southwest.

"The Strand," the ship's face explains. "The only easy docking point is tucked into the southern edge."

Zuriel consults his map of Fey'driel. "How far is the docking point from the Waygate? Also, are we likely to encounter any other...unpleasantness there? This is still Centaur territory, correct? I wasn't too terribly impressed by their manners the first time around."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 208):

"We can easily arrived before evening," the ship says. "I expect there are at least a few other vessels docked or cruising nearby. It is the centaurs' main port, after all."

Zuriel raises an eyebrow. "Reach the port, or reach the waygate? Also, I don't particularly feel inclined to fight a harbor full of Centaur, and after our last encounter I'm a bit soured on the chances of us being able to simply pass through without conflict. Do you think it wise to simply waltz into their main port?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 210):

"Sure," the voice replies with the tonal equivalent of a shrug. "I mean, I'm sure I'll be fine. As for the waypoint, I have no idea how close that is to the port."

"Do you have any reason to believe they won't just attack us outright? Or commandeer you once we've disembarked?" Zuriel asks skeptically. "If you can beach yourself safely, wouldn't it make more sense just to find some unoccupied coastline and conduct the search ourselves?"

In reply to DM (msg # 211):

Oh, well the one facing East was West of his companion, and the one facing West was East of the other.  Actually, that really only works in Euclidean or Archimedian planes... and the latter only where the conflux of intrapartial effects is summed to zero or at least overall null.  Oh... well yeah it's true that's USUALLY the case in such planes, but it isn't ALWAYS... so I mean... I have to ask what plane the boat was in... and if the sailors were in the same plane.  If it was a theoretical di-covariant plane, well... it would be easy because you're facing two directions at once, but they wouldn't be able to do it at the same time... not unless chronometric considerations were taken into effect...

Keef continues...

In reply to Keef (msg # 213):

"I don't ENJOY being beached when a nice harbor or slip is available," the face responds. "Besides, I'm known to the centaur. Beaching me somewhere random will only arouse more suspicion when I'm inevitably discovered."

It turns to the boy.

"Correct, correct, no need to go on..."

Zuriel shrugs. "That's a risk I'm willing to take. Make for the beach. I've got an idea for finding the waygate."

He spends the boat ride that afternoon painstakingly drawing gridlines onto the Fey'driel map, aided against the motion of the ship by using his scabbard as a straightedge. By the time he is finished, the map has been enhanced with a serviceable coordinate grid, which breaks the landmass into easily searchable parcels of land.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:23, Wed 20 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 215):

The ship doesn't respond to this, choosing instead to resume whistling the same annoying, off-key melody from before.

Um... my eye wants me to go meet its... friends I think?  Not sure where, but I have a feeling I'll find out.  If I don't go there, it said they'll come to us.  That may or may not be good.

In reply to DM (msg # 216):

Keef listens to the tuneless whistling for a moment then joins in.

Zuriel shoots Boreas an alarmed look. "That's...mildly concerning," he says. "Though all things considered, I'd rather meet them on our terms than theirs. Does your eye...talk to you now? See if you can find out where. I'd like to get Cassie through first though, as we're already near the waygate."

Maeve suppresses a giggle-snort at the revelation that Boreas' eye now talks to him.

"I agree.  Probably a good idea if we go to . . . . uh, them.  "

She stifles another laugh as she pictures a clearing full of disembodied eyes.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 220):

The P.A.R.T.Y. reaches the stoney shores of The Strand by mid-afternoon, beaching the ship upon the rocks to keep it from the tidal forces sloshing endlessly against them. The pebbles give way to loose sand and then to gently sloping grassland dotted here and there with light foliage and sparse populations of trees.

Zuriel helps the PARTY make camp in the grasslands in the most defensible spot they can find. He poses the question to his book clearly and in no uncertain terms: "To what grid square on the coordinates I drew does the portal from Aeyris to Fey'driel currently lead."

For point of clarification, he says to the PARTY, "Even the fixed portals between planes are unstable. Simply finding the waygate will only get us close; the deviation could be up to several miles. We'll want to home in closer before asking Cassie to cross. Lyriel, can you let her know our plan?"

Lyriel nods, casting the requisite magics. I'll also prepare extra sendings tomorrow. If the portal is imprecise, we may need to spread out to find her. Keef, can you prepare extra polymorphs so we can look for her from the sky if possible?

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 223):

The P.A.R.T.Y. sets up camp not far from the shore, with the boat just barely within sight, but it is still only 4 p.m. or so. With another 4 hours of daylight to burn, there is much that could yet be accomplished should they so choose.

OOC: Confirm you're really idling for the night if that's your intention, please.

Zuriel will fly up and look at the surrounding area while there's still daylight, looking for landmarks of interest. Perhaps a neon sign that says 'waygate?'

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 225):

Keefmera follows Zuriel, though he spends more time doing loop-de-loops than scouting.

ROAR HISSS BAAAAA

Maeve will explore the surroundings, searching for disembodied eyes.

She'll also continue to wonder why it's so imperative that they have Cassie with them in the first place.  She will make this puzzlement clear as she searches in vain for eyeballs.

"All I'm saying is that between the book, Longshank, Blaine, and Boreas being some sort of prophetic hero, we should be pretty well-equipped with guides.  You'll recall that not only has Cassie never *been* to the fey realm, but she can't actually communicate with nature any more.  I'm not sure that qualifies her to be the most ideal guide.  Why risk our lives with a perilous crossing between the realms to locate a woman who probably won't be of much use to us?  Maybe that's harsh but that's how my father would think."

"Furthermore, how will the realm react to the presence of an un-empowered druid?  I can't see that going well. I'm all for Cassie redeeming herself is she so desires but we can't make that the focus of our time here."

Not to mention the fact that Lyriel is reacting rather well to her boyfriend being so dead-set on locating another woman. . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 13:35, Thu 21 Aug 2014.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 227):

Surprising no one, there are no obvious signs (neon or otherwise) pointing toward the existence of a waygate. The aerial excursion does, however, pinpoint the location of the harbor, which is far to the south. A village of sorts has been erected near it, but it doesn't look terribly complex or populous.

Small knots of centaur roam the grasslands, hunting or playing (it's hard to be sure), and the harbor does currently contain four ships similar to your own.

Lookout towers dot the perimeter of the island -- you find yourselves lucky to have berthed in the gap between two such sentries -- and it occurs to you that huge flying chimeras may or may not be a common sight in these parts.

The grassland extends for miles in all directions, and the only geographic point of interest appears to be an enormous tree standing in a circle with a radius of nearly a mile that contains wild grasses but no other trees. A ring of smaller trees encircles this "lawn", protecting it and the central tree from ground-based observation or encroachment.

You could probably reach the outer ring of trees before sundown, if you wished, but it would leave precious little sunlight for setting up camp. And, of course, in doing so you'd be forced to leave Blaine far behind.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:42, Thu 21 Aug 2014.

Zuriel raises an eyebrow at Maeve. "I doubt she'll be unempowered for long. And empowered or no, she knows nature better than any of us, even Boreas. Blaine only knows the waters, and is also a pain. She won't stand out as unempowered, any more than any of us do. The crossing itself isn't all that perilous. I don't think there's too much in the way of life-risking, any more than there would be anywhere else in this realm."

He ticks off his response on his fingers, shrugging. "Besides, we're already here." Having said his piece, he goes back to making camp.

Having reported on the circle of trees, he suggests waiting until the morning to approach. "Better to know for sure where the portal will come through, rather than just guessing. Though the tree seems as likely a place as any."

Maeve gives Zuriel smile that seems to say "every horrible thing that ensues as a result of us doing this I am blaming entirely on you."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 230):

The P.A.R.T.Y. makes camp as best they can, though it's hard not to feel exposed on the relatively flat grassland they inhabit. Night passes and morning comes without incident, however -- unless you consider Blaine's constant (though faint) whistling an incident.

In reply to DM (msg # 231):

Apparently, all it takes to inspire expediency in Keef's morning preparations is having someone to talk to.

Morning Mr. Blaine!  I dreamed about lions, did you?  About lions I mean... or at all...

Keef practices hacking at the grass with his waster between unnecessary combat tumbles.  Upright or not, he continues talking without pause.

Zuriel wakes early, and after another incredible breakfast conjured by Lyriel, gets out the Book of Answers and the map of Fey'driel. He spends several moments cross referencing the map with landmarks around him. Looking at the horizon, he nods to himself.

"Okay, it looks like the portal is leading somewhere near that big tree, like we thought. Let's get started in that direction. Once we're there, Lyriel can Send to Cassie to cross. We'll need to keep a sharp lookout though, because we won't know exactly where she'll appear. It shouldn't be too heard on the open plains, though, especially if we're flying. Keef, you can do a hawk, right? I know it's not as cool as a chimera, but it won't stand out to anybody observing, and we could use a hawk's eyesight."

With that being said, Zuriel helps break camp, summons Shahara, and leads the PARTY towards the giant tree.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 233):

The P.A.R.T.Y. takes its unreluctant leave of Blaine and heads toward the copse of trees they saw out in the distance yesterday. No sign of eyes, floating or otherwise, makes itself known, nor is further information available by air.

By midday, the P.A.R.T.Y. is near the edge of the circle of trees that acts as a barrier between the large tree in the middle and the mile or so of grassland surrounding it.

The trees are not rooted particularly close together, but their limbs are intertwined much like a line of children might lock hands to form a horizontal line. The effect is a wooden barrier that seems to gently sway in the breeze.

A breeze, you notice with a start, that is entirely absent.

Glenn and Ivy look shy away from the trees, looking at each other nervously.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "There's something off about this place," they say. "It smells alive, but in the wrong way."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:59, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

Maeve focuses her full attention breakfast, obviously still sore about the P.A.R.T.Y's brushing aside her really-quite-sound tactical advice.  To her credit though, she says no more on the subject, instead challenging Keef to a contest to see how many pieces of bacon they can each fit in their mouth at once.

As the day passes, she continues her fruitless search for the disembodied eyeballs. . .or whatever form Boreas' eye's friends might care to take. . . . .

When they reach the barrier, she eyes it with minimal interest and a bit of apprehension.

The deer are afraid. . . .I wonder if they have the right idea about this whole farce. . . . .
This message was last edited by the player at 16:01, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

Zuriel quite happily ignores Maeve's sullen silence, clearly recalling how adamant she was that she accompany them to Fey'driel in the first place, despite Zuriel pointing out that it would probably be quite boring for her.

The paladin had little sympathy.

Our deer friends don't much like this place.  They say it smells alive, but not in a good way.  We'd best be on our guard.

Boreas, do you know what a vernal thrush sounds like? Lyriel asks suddenly. That's what Cassie said she'd imitate. She's crossing now.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 237):

What kind of guard? Keef asks eagerly.  Lion guard?  Hydra guard?  Maybe... um... manticore? Or maybe.... elasmosaurus?

Sure, they have a distinctive call.  Probably why she chose it.

"Can we do hawks, Keef? We'd fit in and we'd be able to see pretty much everything."

The paladin glances around a bit uneasily. He casts a few spells on himself and Shahara, just in case.

[Golden Barding; One Mind]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:20, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

Maeve's ears prick up and her mood lightens considerably at the prospect of imminent peril.  She ceases her hunt for eyes and moves to the main group, eager to be the first one to tell Zuriel "I told you so."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 242):

Oh... hawk?  Yeah, that works too...

Keef works his magic and soon enough a hawk with unruly head feathers is circling above.

In reply to Keef (msg # 243):

Keefhawk takes to the skies, swooping over the line of trees to explore the area beyond.

His flight carries him toward the central tree, and he does not return. The P.A.R.T.Y. waits until well past the duration of polymorph has expired, but nothing changes.

The boy is gone.

[Private to Keef: Upon crossing the outer barrier of trees, you hear an enticingly high-pitching song fluttering over the breeze. Though you aren't quite aware of it, you are unable to do anything other than approach the central tree. Once you arrive, you hear a resonating bass sound join the mix, which emanates from the trunk. This you recognize as some modification of the Sleep spell, which you are able to resist, but you are unable to shake the compulsion to continually circle the tree at a low altitude.]

"Lyriel, can you shoot another Sending to Cassie?" Zuriel asks uneasily. "I'm going to check things out. Shahara will stay here. If anything is wrong, you'll know right away."

The paladin levitates from his saddle, floating upwards and above the trees.

Before he floats away, almost as an afterthought, he takes the straw hat with him.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

"I'm pretty sure he just does that in order to show off," Maeve says, eyeing the levitating paladin.  "Next thing you know Boreas will be able to fly and it'll be just us ladies stuck here on the ground.  Well no, wait, you can probably cast some sort of flying spell. . . .

Maeve kicks a rock across the ground unhappily.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 246):

As Zuriel attempts to fly over the treeline, the limbs shift -- moving more quickly than you might have thought possible.

~~ Surprise Round ~~

The nearest tree's limbs snake out toward the paladin, grabbing him roughly and holding him firmly in place.

[Initiate Improved Grapple, Touch Attack: 27]
[Opposed Grapple (Tree vs Zuriel): 50 vs 20]
[Damage (Zuriel): 10, nonlethal]

The paladin takes negligible damage, but cannot move.

~~ Disposition ~~

The P.A.R.T.Y is within one movement action of the offending tree, which is without one movement action of two other trees (one of the left, one of the right). These other trees do not appear to be moving, but the one grappling with Zuriel has plenty of other limbs available to defend itself against further threats.

~~ Initiative ~~
Maeve
Zuriel
Boreas
Tree
Lyriel

Maeve gives a bark of surprise as the tree grabs Zuriel and holds him firmly in its branches.  She remains in place, unable to reach Zuriel up in the tree's branches and unwilling to risk getting caught up by the tree herself.

Boreas has the best chance of getting him down.


 She does however, whisper under her breath "Told you so."

[Maeve delays]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:06, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

After the initial surprise of being snagged by the tree despite having specifically flown to not be near it, Zuriel gives a resigned sigh. He raises an eyebrow as if to say "Really?", and then delays.

Boreas dashes toward the tree, rolling easily out of the way of any limbs that might come after him.

[Tumble 27]

He lays a hand on Zuriel and the paladin disappears.  He and Boreas reappear a little behind the others.  An image of the hunter remains near the tree.

[Casting Fey Step]
This message was last edited by the player at 20:38, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

Zuriel rolls his eyes. "Let's try that again."

After awaiting for a minor heal from Lyriel, he takes off again, taking a much, much higher approach over the treeline.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 251):

The tree waggles its limbs restlessly as Zuriel floats out of range.

~~ End Combat ~~

The paladin soars above the trees and past them, heading toward the central tree and trying to get a better view. There is still nothing to be seen, and he does not report back immediately.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: A sweet song fills the air beyond the treeline, and you find yourself heading toward the central tree without really thinking about it. A hawk can be seen circling the tree aimlessly at a low altitude as you approach, and a deep bass joins the symphony as you get closer. This carries with it a secondary compulsion, but you are able to resist its effects. Still, you find yourself quite unable to do much beyond approach the tree and slowly circle it.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:17, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

After healing Zuriel, Lyriel turns to Shahara. Let's see, she says, rolling up her sleeves.

[Casting Tongues > Shahara]

There we go Lyriel says with a smile. You should be able to talk with us directly now, Shahara!

Shahara whinnies and snorts, but the PARTY hears it as speech in a surprisingly high and soft voice. Zuriel is flying towards the big tree. He sees the hawk, and is looking for this...other...woman, but seems...distracted. He keeps focusing on the tree.

The mare paws the ground nervously. I don't like it. She nickers and tosses her mane, giving Lyriel a soft headbutt.

[Private to DM: Zuriel continues to move towards the tree, while looking for any appearance of a blonde ex-druid.]
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 20:58, Fri 22 Aug 2014.

"No, I don't much like it either. . . ." Maeve agrees with the mare, but not for the reasons of Zuriel pursuing other women. An unpleasant thought has begun to occur to the Gaelian warrior.

"This is a waygate.  A way between the worlds.  But. . . which worlds?Just this world and Cassie's?  There are other worlds than these.  And if she can come through. . . .who's to say that something worse from somewhere else can't?"

Maeve shivers a bit.

"Tell her to be careful, Lyriel.  Fetching her here may be folly but I won't have her getting destroyed on the way through.  Not on my watch."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:38, Sat 23 Aug 2014.

Shahara snorts. Zuriel can't fly anymore. The spell worn off. He's just walking around now with the little one. They both seem distracted, keep focusing on the tree. His mind feels...foggy. The mare's golden eyes flicker as she looks to the priestess uneasily. We...have to do something.

She paws  at the ground more urgently.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 255):

Outside the Trees

Maeve, Boreas, and Lyriel wait around in utter boredom, keeping their distance from the twitching trees. Long past the duration of Keef's polymorph and Zuriel's flying ability should have worn off, there is still no word. Shahara's updates seem to indicate both paladin and boy are performing aimless laps around the large central tree.

Lyriel's Sending to Cassie is completed, but she receives absolutely no response.

Gleen and Ivy look nervously at one another, then at the trees, as if to suggest that they, too, are beginning to see the necessity of breaching the barrier to retrieve their allies, as unpleasant as the concept might be.

Shahara whinnies excitedly. Zuriel found her but she's...sleeping? She tosses her mane, confused. He's going to try to wake her up now.

[Private to DM; Keef: On one of Zuriel's endless laps around the great tree, he notices a pile of leaves that eluded his attention before. Approaching it, he finds a certain blonde druid, sleeping. She is partially covered in leaves, which seem almost animated with a life of there own. He approaches her, but does not yet shake her awake. "Cassie?" he asks, bewildered.]

"Interesting place to pick for a catnap," Maeve says.  "Alright then.  Let's go and get them, shall we?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 258):

At the Tree

Stuff happens.

[Private to Keef; Zuriel Silendril: It does appear to be Cassie, but she doesn't stir at the sound of the paladin's voice.  Keef happens by on his next pass, at which point a rumbling voice can be heard.

"Enough of this!"

The Everstaff shimmers with a red light, and a haze you didn't even know was there is lifted from Keef and Zuriel's mind. The compulsion ends, leaving both Keef and Zuriel looking at each other and at Cassie, confused about how they got there or why they thought walking around the tree aimless seemed like a good idea.

The high-pitched song you heard when you crossed the barrier of trees earlier seems to be coming from the leaves, while the trunk provides a resonant bass line.

A closer look at Cassie reveals that the leaves seem to be swooping down to her, resting a moment, and then swooping back to the tree... and that the ex-druid seems to be growing increasingly frail in the process.]

Outside the Trees

The P.A.R.T.Y. decides that maybe their allies could use a hand.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:48, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

At the Tree:

Events Transpire [Private to DM; Keef: "Get off of her!" Zuriel shouts in alarm, and rushes to Cassie's assistance. He brushes the leaves from her and pulls picks her up. "Come on, nap time is over," he murmurs urgently.]

Outside the trees:

Shahara rears in alarm. The big tree is doing something to the druid. Zuriel is angry at it. We have to go now!

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 261):

At the Tree

More things.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril; Keef: Keef and Zuriel find themselves, somehow, in combat with an angry swarm of leaves.

The leaves surrounding Cassie do not seem to want to peel off, and more flit down to join them in fending off the aggressive actions of the paladin and the mage.

~~ Initiative ~~
Zuriel
Keef
Leaves]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:55, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

At the Tree:

Things continue to unfold [Private to DM; Keef: "I said get OFF!" Zuriel yells. He angles his sword at the swirling leaves. "CORWYND!" he bellows. A sudden hurricane rushes from the blade, blasting the leaves from their resting places in angry whirls. He throws Cassie over his shoulder and begins to run in the other direction. "Keef, I think we should get out of here as quickly as possible."]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 264):

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: Keef nods.  He jumps toward Zuriel and catches the paladin by the elbow.]

There is a rushing of energy, a blur of red streamers and the sound of a massive key clicking in an ancient lock.

Keef and Zuriel (with a blonde over his shoulder) suddenly appear beside their companions just outside the treeline.

[Private to GM: Dimension Door]

Maeve's favorite way of rousing people from magically-induced states or panic attacks (namely, slapping) seems inappropriate here.

So if Cassie doesn't regain consciousness naturally, she'll dump a whole bunch of water on her face.

"What happened?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:13, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

Zuriel lowers Cassie gently to the ground, holding up a hand to prevent Maeve from dumping water on the unconscious woman. "The tree was draining her, somehow. Lyriel, can you tell what is affecting her?"

Boreas watches as events unfold, unsure what to do but glad to see Cassie again.

Lyriel kneels down next to the unconscious elf, checking her pulse and breathing. She's uninjured, but very weak. I'll need a day to heal her. I'm not sure if she'll wake up on her own until then.

She looks up at Zuriel. What happened back there?

Maeve sets the waterskin aside with more than a bit of disappointment and settles down cross-legged to observe the proceedings.

"Is it safe to move her? On one of the horses maybe?  I'd rather not camp too close to the trees while we wait for her to wake up."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:23, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

"I'm not...sure exactly," Zuriel says. He shakes his head, as if to clear it. "It's a bit hazy. When I flew over the trees, I heard a song coming from the big tree in the center. It kept...drawing me to it while I searched, though at the time I didn't realize it. Eventually we saw Cassie asleep, covered in leaves. The leaves were...feeding on her, somehow. Like they were alive. Anyhow, the Ever...Longshank...broke the compulsion, and I blew the leaves off Cassie and grabbed her. Keef got us back."

He shrugs, staggering a bit as Shahara nuzzles him rather aggressively. He scratches behind her ears idly. "We should get back to Blaine. Hopefully he's still there." His tone of voice indicates that his concern is more for their means of conveyance than Blaine himself.

The paladin clambers up into his saddle, gently hoisting Cassie up in front of him (provided Lyriel indicates she's hale enough to be moved.) "I wonder what that tree was?" he murmurs aloud. "It felt...dangerously beautiful."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 271):

Yeah, Longshank was really great back there!

Keef turns the staff in his hands and ponders.

Can you protect us all from the compulsion?

"Seems that we owe you our gratitude, Longshank.  Thank you for saving Cassie," Maeve says as she pulls Keef up behind her on Wes.

"Anyway, now that we have her here more or less safely we can. . . ." she breaks off and looks in puzzlement at the unconscious druid.

"Actually there's a good point.  What *are* we going to do with her?  Zuriel seems keen to help her on her quest to redemption but. . . .how do we go about doing that?"

"Honestly? I have no idea," Zuriel says with a shrug and a faint grin. "But I'm willing to bet that those who follow Le'lothriel most certainly do."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 274):

The P.A.R.T.Y. has retrieved Cassie, though the ex-druid is grievously wounded. There's no wounds on her body, but she seems so frail and fragile that she looks fit to die at any second. For all that, she sleeps peacefully.

"I could protect you and your allies from such harm," the Everstaff's voice echoes in response to Keef's question. "But doing so costs energy, and once I have expended what I possess, I shall need to feed once more."

Glenn and Ivy seem all too happy to be moving away from the circle of trees... though they are confused as to why you came in the first place.

OOC: Party is heading... where? Back to Blaine? To the port? Elsewhere?

Lyriel looks at Zuriel and Cassie with a mixture of concern for the druid and irritation that she should spend the afternoon essentially cradled by Zuriel.

Reviewing her options mentally, a sudden flash of inspiration occurs to her. Oh! Let me try something. I think this will work, I've never done it before.

She spurs Stony up to Shahara. She extends a hand to the frail druid, placing a hand on the other woman's brow. The priestess closes her eyes, focusing inward, and begins to incant.

Her words echo with a rushing sound, and a bright emerald light begins to shine along Cassie's skin. The light begins to glow more brightly, and before long you cannot look at the former druid without your eyes watering painfully.

[Casting: Heal]

The light culminates into a blinding amethyst flash before it vanishes, taking with it all traces of Cassie's injuries.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:19, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

"Simply incredible," Maeve murmurs as Cassie blinks back to life.  It's hard to tell if that statement is meant as amazed praise or as mild sarcasm at yet another incredible act of magic from Lyriel.  Most likely, it's both.

From where Maeve and Keef are riding a little to the left of the other two horses, you can hear her fondly mutter something that sounds like "--ing magical sorts."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 277):

"Wha... where am I?" Cassie murmurs as she comes to.

"Safe, for now," Zuriel says from his position in the saddle behind Cassie, "from a rather rather ornery old tree." Zuriel was suddenly extremely conscious of the fact that he was holding another woman in front of Lyriel.

He clears his throat. "Welcome to Fey'driel, Cassie," he says, pushing through the awkwardness in the only way he knew how - by talking. "Other than the whole 'almost dying' bit, I trust you had a pleasant journey?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:43, Mon 25 Aug 2014.

Now that the P.A.R.T.Y has braved the waygate unscathed, Maeve is warming to the ex-druid's presence rather more.

"What Zuriel is trying rather badly to say--probably because he has an attractive woman sitting just about in his lap--is that you are indeed in Fey'driel.  Thanks in no small part to Keef, you made it through the waygate more or less safely.  Now that you're here, we have a couple of objectives.  We're trying to find Boreas' eyes' friends, assuming they don't find us first.  Also, we need to locate clerics of Le'lothriel.  We need their help with a certain matter and perhaps they could help restore to you your contact with nature."

Maeve smiles, pleased at having summed everything up so nicely. Cassie, still a bit out of it, looks as though she took in perhaps half of the information.

"Here," Maeve says, tossing a ubiquitous flask of tea at Zuriel.  "Have her drink that, small sips."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 280):

The color is slowly restored to Cassie's countenance with time and tea, and soon she appears to be in much better spirits.

"Fey'driel," she says quietly, looking around herself. Suddenly, she giggles, and soon she's laughing. "I've made it after all!"

She tosses her blonde hair playfully and glances over her shoulder at Zuriel for a moment, then turns her attention toward Keef.

"And I have you to thank for it, do I?" she beams, though it's hard to tell how much of it is a show, and blows a kiss at the boy. "My hero."

After a short distance, she furrows her brow and looks around herself again.

"So, are we headed toward the clerics now? Or... what?"

I should think so, Lyriel says in agreement, unless Boreas' 'friends' make themselves known earlier. They've been vague. The gesture that accompanies that statement makes it unclear whether 'they' referred to Boreas, as well as his eye friends.

No matter where we decide to go ultimately, our immediate destination is the coastline. We have sort of a...a talking boat. He might know where to find either the clerics of Le'lothriel or Boreas' friends.

Lyriel glances over at Zuriel and Cassie. It's a bit of a ways, she says slowly, and, after all, you are still recovering from the brink of death. Perhaps it would be best of you rode with me, Cassie, until we're sure you're better? Lyriel asks, voice full of concern for all the horrible debilitating ailments and sudden maladies that would doubtless overcome the ex-druid without constant medical attention, which Zuriel would be entirely incapable of handling himself.

She pokes Boreas meaningfully in the shoulderblades. Boreas, why don't you ride with Zuriel.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 282):

"Oh, I don't want to be any trouble," Cassie says with smile, "I'm really feeling much better. If any of those horrible-sounding, entirely non-fictitious maladies were to afflict me, I have every confidence that one of you could set me straight."

Maeve smothers a laugh and tries more or less successfully to turn it into a cough.

"Best do as she says, Cassie," Maeve says, not wanting to antagonize Lyriel further, enjoying it though she may be.  "Lyriel only has your best interests at heart.  She would never stoop to inventing maladies in an attempt to get you away from Zuriel.  That would just be silly."

She isn't quite as successful at stifling the second laugh.

Boreas smiles slightly, meeting Cassie's eyes.

Stony gives such a smooth, comfortable ride.  And I think Cassie's fine where she is.  Isn't that right, Cassie?

[Bluff - Hidden Meaning 25]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 285):

The P.A.R.T.Y. makes it back to the beach where they left Blaine by late afternoon, and are surprised to find that the ship is still there, relatively unmolested.

In reply to DM (msg # 286):

Keef rides along in relative silence, mouthing the word "hero" from time to time.

Cassie seemed amused by Boreas and Maeve's shennanigans, and with Boreas unwilling to relinquish his seat on Stony, seems content to remain on Shahara. This put Zuriel in the distinctly awkward position of having to ride double with an attractive and playfully flirtatious woman...in front of his lady love. He could feel the priestess' ire through her gaze, though whom it was directed at wasn't clear. The universe, he supposed.

To help alleviate the tension, Zuriel spends most of the ride back talking, filling to void of silence usually occupied be Keef. To be fair, most of his narrative serves the purpose of filling Cassie in on the danger to the planes and the multiverse, but still. The paladin seemed to be talking much more than usual. He was joined from time to time by Shahara, who seemed to be enjoying her temporary ability to speak to the PARTY.

Zuriel was relieved, however, when they finally returned to Blaine. Helping Cassie down from the saddle, he finally shuts up and helps the quadrepedal members of the PARTY board the ship, and aids with launching it back out into the sea.

Shortly after launching, he asks Blaine. "Blaine, we're looking for clerics of Le'lothriel. Do you know where they might be?"
This message was last edited by the player at 13:42, Tue 26 Aug 2014.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 288):

"Well... that all depends," Blaine says casually. "Y'want humans, elves, treefolk, or centaur?"

Zuriel gives a Boreas-worthy smirk. "Which are least likely to attempt to kill a group of travelers on sight?" He turns to Cassie. "Do you have any preference?"

In reply to DM (msg # 289):

Shahara, what's it like... I mean, being a horse?

In reply to Keef (msg # 291):

Blaine considers the question for a moment.

"They're all equally likely to be hostile to strangers. Which do you feel most kindred to?"

"Elves," Cassie says. "Unless they're closer to the fallen ones than the wildkin."

Shahara, unused to being addressed directly, flicks her ears towards Keef. She tosses her mane in what approximates a shrug rather effectively.

I've known nothing else, so I wouldn't know how to describe it. Have you never been a horse, little wizard? I've seen you transform yourself into many creatures. Strange that you should have neglected to try the best kind.

The mare snorts.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 293):

As Keef ponders this, Chubbs gives a dismissive snort.

If it weren't beneath him, he'd point out that horses are FAR from the best kind of creature.

If, but it is.

Lyriel arches an eyebrow curiously at Blaine. What about you, Blaine? What are you, exactly? Treefolk? You seem comfortable with the centaur. I'll confess ignorance to knowing which groups enjoy killing which others, and for what reasons.

She nods at Cassie, giving her a smile to indicate that provided the ex-druid didn't make a habit of draping herself around Zuriel, the priestess was more than willing to be friends. I would agree, Cassie. All things considered, I'd prefer the elves.

If only for the more pleasant smell...

The centaur somehow combined the most offensive odors of humans and horses into one foul stench. A stench that made Boreas downright pleasant in comparison.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 295):

What about slavers?  Keef asks excitedly, suddenly engaged in the adult conversation.

Sir Greenheart once infiltrated Thieve's Pass by pretending to be a slaver, leading in a whole team as slaves.  He dressed up like them and everything.  Well, his stature and poise gave him away, Granny Rags was too old and evil and clever to be fooled... but Sir Greenheart couldn't polymorph... and I don't think Granny Rags will be around wherever we're going... will she?

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 295):

"Treefolk?!" Blaine exclaims, appalled. "No, thank you, madam, but I'm as feyic as the day I was born."

The face flicks its attention toward Keef.

"If you want to play make-believe with the slaver route, clamp your elven friends in irons and march 'em to the treefolk."

Are you sure about the elves, Lyriel?  I'll bet that they are plenty lithe. . . . .

"That idea has plenty of hilarious potential, but I think we'll stick with the elves, Blaine."