OOC: Maybe the Dog is waiting for that rocky spirit to break a bit of itself off and throw it so he can play 'Fetch' :)


[Private to The Altweaver: Meri eyed the blue stone for a moment, then handed her staff to Timur and drew out the green stone with her free hand.

She first tried moving the two stones close to each other to see if they reacted to each other in some way, but then shook her head and moved the leaf closer to the plant in the alcove.


OOC: Since it's the roots of a plant rather than the leaves that draw in water, she's thinking the leaf stone is part of the plant in some way, while the blue stone is placed on the ground beneath it.  Possibilities :)]

Over at the misty alcove...

Although Nym had simply been rambling, clearly something she had said had struck a cord with the orcish shaman. He drew himself up haughtily. "Hmm. Do not. Wish for the thing. Wish. For the power. To do the thing. Oneself. Hmm. Even corrupted. The effect. Would be against me. My people. Would still have. My power. Working. For them."

The orcish shaman apparently had been thinking to himself, almost, and for once his eyes had left Nym. Nym's other question brought his attention back. Gobbat had spoken truly, there was something a little odd when the orc looked at a person. He seemed to be truly focused on that person when he looked at them. For good, or for ill, of course.

"God..." the shaman said, starting to look around. Over the shaman's shoulder, The Ball was viisble, sudden;y darting too and fro whilst shining pink and purple like the portal. It had apparently been behind and back fro mthe shaman all along, and for some reason seemed agitated the orc was going to look around.

The orcish shaman stopped, and instead leaned in to Nym. "..or something," he whispered. The Ball drifted downwards back out of sight, apparently relieved.

"Some gods, some other things, cannot walk as they will. Cannot ignore us. Some need us. Then, that is when one might get their Wish. Only then. Otherwise, the gods do as they will. I think the gods do not steer us. We steer the gods. Gruumish is the god of destruction, plunger. It is good to break apart the old, the strong should have what is theres. But has our god lost his way as his people have been reduced? Does their lack of faith in themselves affect what our god can be?"

It seemed a flight of fancy he was sharing with Nym, soon abandoned. Especially when Nym spoke kindly of dragons. He leaned back again. "Dragons. Burned our world. Dragonborn. Struck down. My race. Do not. Speak of them. So."


Aww, you annoyed the shaman!


At the earth alcove...

[Private to Meri: As I said, a more sane DM would have done something like that regarding the leaf and blue stone, yes...]

When Meri brought out the leaf, her hand was pulled towarrds the bush. The stone almost leapt from her hand to stick to a random branch, swaying alone. However, then suddenly and silently the was a flood of green, an explosion of foliage from beside the green stone until a healthy decorative shrub was there.

However, that was not the end of the magic. The branches beneath the canopy shifted, twisted. The bush grew taller until it was taller than Meri. Then the top split apart in two, each half falling to the side and twisting whilst something came out of the centre...

In a brief moment, the bush had twisted itself in to a clever representation of an elf, branches for limbs and greenery for clothing and hair. Or rather, a half elf, for it looked very much like Meri herself. Only two things were odd. Firstly, the way the eyes were formed by hollows in the branches. Secondly, the fact that the green stone had visibly become the mouth, to give 'Meri' a bright smile.

One arm was tucked behind the bushes' back, but the other arm was lifted towards Meri, palm open. As if waiting for something to be given to it.


As I said, in a sane world...

"Did they?" asks Nym, then glances down at herself. "Oh. Um. So does that mean you don't like this, then? Oops."

She looks back up at the orc and grins.

"But that's okay - I can make myself not look like the species you don't like, if that makes you feel any better? How about this?"

Abruptly her scales fade away, her surface changing to slightly rough-looking skin, still a faint silvery hue. Hair sprouts from her head, as do a set of curving horns and a pair of visible ears. Her eyes become a golden colour and her tail shrinks, becoming much slimmer and its tapering tip changing to a vague sort of barbed shape.

Now in the form of a (rather oddly-coloured) tiefling, Nym spreads her arms slightly as though to show off her new form.

"Is this better?" she asks. "Maybe we can talk about happy things, now. I didn't know you'd had problems with dragonny things..."

OOC: I think I read something about Tieflings once fighting against the Dragonborn, or at least the two species don't usually get along (apart from a few exceptions).  So maybe he'll find the form of a Tiefling to be more pleasing if he doesn't like the Dragonborn.  Not sure if Nym did that on purpose or not ;)


[Private to The Altweaver: Meri stepped back and glanced around behind her to check the rocky spirit was still distracted and hadn't had its attention drawn by the sudden appearance of the plant.

Looking back at the plant, she glanced down at the blue stone and then at the outstretched hand.  It seemed suddenly obvious what it was waiting for, even without any strange magical prompting.
She stepped closer again, reaching out with the blue stone...


OOC: Intriguing...  :)]

Not really - I've just been wanting her to turn into a tiefling at some point, and as they look nothing like dragonborn I thought now would be a good time :D.

I really should at some point make it clear how much of normal D&D lore I'm going by, and how much I'm going to diviate a little for the specific history of the world. For the moment, anything is probably better than being a Dragonborn whilst saying how cool dragons are :)

Over at the misty alcove...

The shaman grunted and nodded, saying something in its own gutteral language, as if a curse or for a moment forgetting himself. "Yes." he said finally. "Ancient. History. Long forgotten by others. Dragons. Ruined all. And we all. Claimed the ashes." A shift. "More recent. History. Still. Forgotten. My people. Gave hope. Where dragonborn. took. It away."

Interesting your characters would both not assume Dragonborn as being bad. I always get the feeling many dragonborn, especially player characters, tend to be seen as weird but noble creatures. So painting the dragoborn as being any form of aggressor would sound odd. As odd as rampaging orcs sounded natural :)


At the earth alcove...

The bush for a moment bowed as if weighed down by the small shallow cup, or maybe it was simply bowing. It brought up its other hand, and cradling the cup it turned towards the portal, raising the cup as if in toast or supplication. With that gesture, some magic of the alcove felt released. And Meri could see the portal dimming further still, The Ball panicking more yet still seemed to have the lighting under control.

'I raise a cup to the light.' [Secret to Meri: The next alcove had been the wooden plague of all the races gathered under something giving light and shade. The yellow disc like the sun seemed likely or that alcove.

On the other side, the bloodstone seemed likely for the cup Nym had described, and the swirling mist in the light blue bubble seemed likely to be paired with the mist of the orc's alcove. That left the many faceted clear gem for the seemingly empty recess of the alcove directly across from Meri. If the pattern were repeating, though, it would seem Meri needed the gold chalice from the second alcove to somehow interact with the third alcove. That and the clear gem. And, ultimately, Nym and the shaman and the shaman's spirit needed to leave that area. The gold chalice was obtainable, placing it in the third alcove seemed...unlikely.

Again, no checks needed, just you need to figure out with Nym how to RP getting the shaman to move :) Or rely on me to do it. Or just go say hey to the shaman, of course...]

"I don't really know much about history." says Nym. "I never really found it very interesting. I'm more interested in what's happening now. Well, I don't necessarily mean right now. Just, you know, more recent than hundreds of years ago when a whole lot of people were alive who aren't now so there's no way to ask them about any really interesting things they did. Well..."

She looks around at the spirits.

"Um...I mean, not usually. Some people can ask them, I suppose. What kinds of dead people are here? Anyone interesting? Were they magic as well when they were alive, any of them? Can you ask them things like that? Or do they just sort of...float around and...make strange noises? Well, that other one spoke earlier, didn't it...and thn made weird screamy noises. Do they all do that? Are they upset that they're all floaty and don't have legs and things any more? I'd think it was quite interesting, really - you wouldn't need to worry about not being able to climb over high things if they were in the way. And I suppose you could pass straight through walls and things. But then, I suppose you wouldn't be able to touch anything or pick anything up. Or eat food."

She pauses as this thought occurs, and wrinkles her nose slightly.

"No, actually, I don't think I want to be a floaty spirit thingy. Not yet, anyway. I suppose I will be, one day, or something. But until then I'll enjoy the fact I can eat lots of food and walk around, and...and everything else."

OOC: Hmm, no way of communicating with Nym as far as I know (at least not without also attracting the attention of either the Shaman or his pet rock there).  This could be where things get interesting...  :)


[Private to The Altweaver: Meri looked back towards the opposite alcove, her hand drawing the stone that resembled a blood drop from her pack.
Taking her staff back from Timur and lifting him back onto her shoulder where he climbed down into her backpack, she retreated back behind the central dais and began to approach the alcove Nym had mentioned as being titled "Liquid of Life".

On the way, she paused before crossing the space between the dais and the stairs, examining the situation and muttering something that sounded vaguely like "Maabet!" under her breath, clearly unhappy about the Shaman's current position.
She continued towards the alcove though, holding out the red stone towards it as she approached, waiting for some sort of reaction...


OOC: "Maabet" is an ancient goblin curse word that apparently doesn't translate into any other language, so only the goblins know precisely what it refers to.  Most likely something rather unpleasant though! ;)]

At the alcove with the golden chalice...

The blood stone felt oddly alive, and it was hard to tell if it rolled off of Meri's hand, was pulled, or Meri had indeed placed it in to the chalice without noticing. The effect was the same, the stone hit the bottom the the chalice and simply dissolved, filling the chalice up with red liquid far more than the volume of the stone should have allowed for. Thankfully, after its initial spread, the liquid in the chalice resembled wine more than blood. Perhaps it was simply the lighting.

The golden chalice had looked fused to the stone a moment before, but now the blood red stone had been dropped inside it, the golden chalice looked like a normal chalice in a plain recess.

[Secret to Meri: Once more there was a feeling of pushing, of motion, as if the ritual had a life of its own. This alcove was done, and the chalice was needed elsewhere. The magic was released here, all of it focused now on the cup.
]


At the misty alcove...

The orcish shaman makes a dismissive gesture. The Dog wuffles in surprise, as the spirit the shaman had made solid is released. It hovers for a moment, but then simply drifts along the floor as if it had never interacted with anything, barely visible.

"Pick. One." says the shaman offhand, indicating without much regard to the swirling mass above.

Lol, this will probably be the last update until I get back. So I can leave you guys to decide as players over the next few days from where is best to pick. Yes, there's not real way to communicate between you two as characters, however since you won the skill challenge you have some artistic license that I am giving you. So Nym's choice can just so happen to be a good spot for Meri. Or the worst, of course :D

If you look on the map, you can also spot what has changed. The portal looks different, and it's only The Ball that is altering the lighting behind the shaman's back. Also, the greenery of the bush might be a give away, although its quite possible that since the shaman has opened and closed the portal several times, he might forget what state all the alcoves should be in. I'll leave you to gamble on that one if you like. :)

OOC: Pick a spirit?  Is that how Nym will get a new familiar?  (O.o)'
Well, as long as she's responsible for feeding it and house-training it!


[Private to The Altweaver: Meri reached out to pick up the chalice and glanced towards the end of the stairs.
Edging along and peering out, she watched the Shaman, waiting until his attention was elsewhere...


Not much else I can do right now :(]

I hope not - I want my familiar (if/when I get one) to be a pure spawn of Nym's crazy magic rather than a second-hand familiar (sorry doggy :() obtained from somewhere "external" ;).

What kind of spirits are close by? I presume the shammy is asking me to pick one of those? Also, I think I'll roll Insight on him to try and discern his motives in offering me this choice, to see if I can tell if he's gonna do something unpleasant (to me or to the spirit I pick), or if he is just gonna show me some (non-harmful) aspect of his powers...27 :D.

OOC: Awww, but Doggy has to stay with us!  He cute! :(

Okay, Meri can adopt him then ;).

Doggy...doggy might need to go to the farm Meri. The...farm far away. He'll be happy at the farm. (Maybe he'll visit one day).

[Private to Nym: The shaman seems to be genuinely offering you a chance to see what he means regarding the spirits. You suspect from his dismissive nature of the the spirits he's just going to show the various ways in which they are useless, 'small' and trapped in their ways.

OOC, the reason as stated earlier if for you to pick a sa player a place for the shaman to look at or go that won't arouse his suspicion and lets Meri work.

IC, Nym's choice can be purely because I'm allowing that area to have something cool. Feel free to let me know what Nym wants to see in that area.]

OOC: Nooooooooo :(  Can't they take the Ball instead?

Who said it was either / or :p

Nym thrusts out a finger, pointing at a random spirit over the shaman's shoulder, toward the alcove.

"Umm...that one!" she says.

[Private to GM: Really, anything with pretty colours or shapechanging will make Nym go "oooooooh!". If it's just the floating figure of a human bloke or something, that's boring ;).]

The orcish shaman raises an eyebrow and looks behind him, luckily over his right shoulder. The Ball, scared at almost being seen, hovers discretely left and moves sideways, still bobbing and whirling to keep up the illusion of a brighter moving portal.

The shaman moves to the alcove he had been in, spotting something floating in the miasma of the air and beckoning it down to the ground. Without turning around, seemingly entranced by it, he moves his hands back and forth and the spirit gets far more solid.

It is one of the contorting, twisting spirits, orcish face in anger twisting to a human mouth screaming silently - though not so silently an more, it could be heard far off, now - to a red tinged pulsating mass of energy that then cycled to an old yet bitter snarling elvish face....

"Rage. A spirit of rage. Not like us. But now. An echo of us." The shaman still did not turn around, instead seemingly conducting the spirit's twists and changes with a gesture or turn of each hand. "Was rage. Before our spirits forges. Was rage. Wrapping itself. Up. In our own spirits. Will be rage. When all. Our spirits. Are but wisps. And wind."

The spirit kept twisting, although the orcish face kept coming back, and the howl of the orc rage was a dull, low presence in the air.

"Is rage of the world, newly formed. Then rage. Of those. Who build this place. But failed. Now rage. Of the dead. In battle. My brothers. My sisters. Who died here. As I say. They become rage. They forget. Themselves. Become like. This spirit. And it. Like them."

Lol, only a semi-intentional should out to rage spirits for Nym there :D


And Meri, if you wanted to run anywhere, now would be a very good time to do it :D

Edit: Also, Nym, let me know where you move to and I'll update the game map with your new position.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:04, Tue 25 Aug 2015.

OOC: Well considering I want to reach the alcove next to the one he's in, I still can't move yet...

Yes you can, he's literally inside the alcove and there's a huge 20ft gap between you. And you'll be close enough to gesture wildly to Nym to get her to distract him :P

OOC: Well I do want to get to that one he's in next, so still got problems.  I'll see what I can do though...
Posting in plain sight again, since I'm right behind Nym here :)


Meri slowly edged out of hiding behind the stairs, holding the chalice from the alcove Nym had examined earlier.
With this, she quickly approached the alcove just behind Nym's position...

The recess in the alcove here looked exactly like the one that Meri had left. Except, of course, it did not have a chalice in it. And except ,of course, she could hear the orcish shaman's voice and movements perfectly. The quiet, dull roar of a spirit was also worryingly close.

[Secret to Meri: The feel of being pulled to the alcove, of the magic of this place wanting to solve itself, was just as strong here. However, unlike last time with the blue stone and the plant, there was a feel of resistance too. Indeed, Meri could not get the chalice physically near the recess, there was more and more physical resistance and a metallic tang in the air. Like last time in the alcove across the hall, some small detail was missing. The clear stone seemed the only logical thing, yet what was needed from it?]

OOC: Hmm, I think this is the one alcove I haven't actually seen up close, so apart from what you just said there, I've no idea what it looks like...


Meri glanced towards Nym and then the Shaman's position for a moment then back at the alcove.
This one needs something else, she thought.
As if responding to her thoughts, Timur, perched on her shoulder, pulled one of the stones from her pack and handed it to her.

Still holding the chalice she moved the clear stone closer to the alcove, seeking some sort of reaction...
This message was last edited by the player at 10:20, Wed 26 Aug 2015.

The recess is about chest height and head shaped, the same as the previous one. You did see it from a distance when moving around before, there was just not much too it :)

There was the same resistance to putting the stone near the alcove. However, Meri could see something through the stone that was...disturbing. [Secret to Meri: As if some optical illusion, when looking through the many. many-faceted stone, a hand was visible coming out of the darkness of the recess.

The hand seemed withered and aged, but there was something familiar in it, as if the hand were still Meri's own. It held out in a pose as if awaiting a hand shake, although Meri could feel the urging of the magic between the chalic and recess now. Whilst she held the clear stone up and could see the hand, she felt the beckoning magic of the alcove wishing its ritual be completed.]

[Secret to Meri: Lol, so there you go, a not creepy hand awaiting a not creepy goblet of blood :)

I wonder if you've spotted something interesting about the puzzle in this alcove as opposed to the others? It's not important, its more narrative and will be explained later on.

Actually, there's two things, one is me as a DM speeding things up but I can hand waive it by saying 'magic'. I'll explain that one next post :)]