His eyes gleaming, Gethin unearths his own stash within a water-resistant coffer: a silk bag containing 30 gold pieces, an alabaster sea lion (250 gp), a jade pendant (250 gp), and, well, what do we have here? Coiled at the bottom of the coffer, a three-headed flail coos at the approach of the paladin's gauntlet and positively purrs when it grips its black shaft (Battering Triple Flail +3).. One of the flail's heads, a cuttlefish, bubbles for Gethin's attention. It looks like they have a few things to talk about.

A pair of dice with too many sides (Dice of Auspicious Fortune) along with a black pearl (500 gp) are also found but it is unclear by whom.

''Ooooh.'' Being an aquatic specimen herself, Levkojen instantly dotes on the cooing maritime-headed triple flail Gethin has unearthed. She croons softly, making vague sea and bubbling noises, and cautiously fondles one of the weapon's heads. Becoming suddenly aware that she might be invading a warrior's private space she pulls back her hand and shyly smiles an apology at Gethin. ''Sorry. It's just, it is so cute!''

In reply to Levkojen (msg # 822):

The crystal man looks at her, and cocks his head to one side. Is...that weapon alive? He sent out telepathically. While his expression never changes, a feeling of oddness seems to come from his featureless face. Which in of itself is odd...

Levkojen stops at what she is doing and turns in wonder to the crystal man. ''I realized only now... You are speaking in my mind!''
She hesitates. ''Do you only project, or can you sense all I am thinking?''
She doesn't look to be put off too much by this thought. Rather it evolves to its next logical progression. ''Can I do this if I take on your form?''

''Probably not though. It must be a purely psychic or even magic ability...''
Her thoughts make a sudden turn and bring her back to DawnStone's original question.

''Is it alive? Difficult to tell. What is life? Are you alive? Or was that your question actually?''

In reply to Levkojen (msg # 824):

No...we are not life. You live, I do not. That which lives can die. We merely exist. The crystal man looked back at the ruins of the altar. I realize now your reaction to the flail is what confused me. How long where you captured by Dagon's creatures?
This message was last edited by the player at 10:15, Sat 04 Aug 2012.

''Why? Not that long actually, only two days. My visit here was set up by a cousin. He must also have arranged for the marriage slash sacrifice, not a nice way to get rid of me. Though in hindsight, he must have deemd the whole setup amusing.''

''You say you are not alife? I wonder. Let's put it to the test...'' As a shape changer this is a challenge Levkojen can't resist, any good intentions notwithstanding.

She changes form, turning into crystal, a perfect copy of DawnStone.
''This is... weird.''

She concentrates, listening into herself. ''I should not be able to do this if you weren't alive. But being you, I actually can't tell. Wether you are really alive or not.''

And then she begins to change further...

... turning from green into a translucent crystal, shining and iridescent where light is refracted in her body.

''I can't even tell if we have a gender.'' She looks down at her crystal body, similar to DawnStone but quite different now.
''This form has some inherent possibilities of variation though. So I assume you are not the only one of your kind?''

''However, the whole feel of it, the structure, is... strange...'' Her body suddenly looses coherence, with single crystals leaving her form and going into close orbit.
After a moment she manages to will them back though. ''Oh. That has been potentially dangerous.''

In reply to Levkojen (msg # 828):

Dawnstone stares at the transformation. I can see why such imitation are disturbing to the ones of flesh. He sent. However, for your own safety, I must ask you not take such a shape again. There are those among my kind who would see your people as a means to an end-a terrible end indeed.

''As happened in Ashenport. And what 'terrible end' would your kind have in store for me? The lands of the gods seem to be wrought in peril.''

The shining crystal hesitates. ''Perhaps it would be easiest if I were to travel with you? If you will have me?''
She looks from Dawnstone to Gethin to Lyriel.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:50, Sun 05 Aug 2012.

Levkojen, still a humanoid form of moving sentient crystal, suddenly bends down and picks something out of the rubble of the shattered altar. Three of the broken up pieces of black rock, strangely symmetric despite the random wantonness of Lyriel's crowbar.
''Strange.'', she says, and pockets them for later inspection.


OOC: Since no one objected in the OOC thread I'll go and add those Dice of Auspicious Fortune to my stuff for now?

The strange girl's second transformation has Gethin thinking again about her shifty nature.  But Gethin is also a fairly good judge of character, and despite her essential inconstancy, there seems something innocent, almost child-like, about her curiosity and exploration.

Maybe something that changes on the outside can remain constant on the inside.  Maybe.  Still, Gethin cannot help but want to see her true form.  He opens his mouth to ask, but quite suddenly the question seems too personal, like asking to see her naked, or to hear her most closely guarded secret.

Though the plodding movement of this inner monologue is unknown to the group (or so Gethin hopes, never having ascertained whether Dawnstone can pry into one's mind if he chooses, or even whether he is always hearing all the thoughts of those around him), the general gist of it might be guessed by the changing of expressions on the half-elf's guileless face.

He finally reaches this: "For myself, I welcome you to travel with us.  But many in these lands will find your... present form... somewhat unsettling.  It would be prudent to return to your original... I mean former... well, the one before the last one..."

Gethin claps his helmet back on, mostly to hide his burning face at this point.

"You should be a girl again."

The need in Gethin's face and voice changes Levkojen back into the woman she has found in the surf. Translucent light-refracting crystal turns to flesh again, into pale skin and black hair. And her robe reappears around her shoulders, only now apparent to have been missing when she was crystal.

Levkojen finds herself nearly as confused as the knight. ''I... we... perhaps we should go to Ashenport now?''
She turns away from the group and towards the cliff. She sings a single clear note and raises her arms, and a strong gust of wind suddenly springs up and carries her gently to the top of the cliff.
''I... hope this is the correct way? The dragon man climbed up here when he went.''


OOC: Using Swift Flight here. Flight powers are really nifty!

In reply to Levkojen (msg # 833):

It is best this way. As I said, there are those among my people whose ideas are... aberrant. They would jump to a erroneous conclusion seeing you as such, and would do things none of us want. He looked up the way Ravex and Lyriel went. Yes, we may wish to rest first before we travel. I could go ahead if you wish-but I would leave you all behind very quickly. I also could not rejoin you for at least a day.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:34, Tue 07 Aug 2012.

"Dawnstone is right that we do need rest, and despite our victory here I am not sure that I trust Ashenport to provide it.  But let's get out of these caverns and try to find some place less... soggy."

"Lower a rope!" he calls up to Levkojen.  He's never been any good at climbing or swimming.  The amount of climbing and swimming he's had to do over the last few days...

Once everyone else is ready, Gethin leads the way back to Ashenport.  He pauses at the outskirts of the town, surveying it.  The exact genesis of the madness that took them he hasn't figured out, but that's stopped bothering him.  There was a jilted lover and a domineering mother and people mutilating themselves gorily in their cells... who knows?  Hopefully it's all done.  Hopefully enough normalcy has returned to the town that the people can hold execute justice.

Gethin sees the trials of the murderers as a symbol of sorts.  The dark days will be on trial in those three men.  Likely they will be scapegoated, but it's no more than they deserve.

Gethin heads for the jail.

Levkojen has no rope to lower, but once a rope has been thrown up to her she's happy to bind it a few times around a stone outcrop and hold it fast. Once everyone's out of the caves she falls in step after Gethin, following his lead in regard to the small town.

''So this is Ashenport. I went straight for the tower on the hill, the church I believe, the first time I was here. I didn't see much of the village.''

You emerge from the caves into the cool air of morning, the sky still orange with the glow of the rising sun. The surf crashes gently against the shore, the tide neither high nor low. Over the water, gulls and terns wheel and dive as they hunt for their first fish of the day. Not a bad idea, you salivate.

Once back atop temple hill, you look down upon Ashenport, half-fearing that bands of cultists would at this very moment be howling for your heads. So taken with this fantasy you don't notice the young man in the green robe of Melora until he addresses you, "Nice view, isn't it?"

His voice and manner are calm, which is reassuring given that you probably look the stuff of nightmares or in Levkojen's case, the stuff of other people's nightmares.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:24, Thu 09 Aug 2012.

''Yes! I love the coastline.'' Replies Lev to the words of the green-robed man, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Someone astute might notice though that she is facing landwards and has the sea at her back. It's actually the smell of the trees and blossoms and earth she's savoring, and the chirps of songbirds in the bushes.

Dawnstone is a capable climber, despite his odd appearance. One would think a man made of crystal would be more stiff. He glances about at the wet, washed out town. Before we leave, we must make one more sweep for survivors. He sent to the others. He looked at the newcomer cautiously, but did not send him a mental message. The Voice may be gone, but the cult which called him may still have members...

Still enjoying the fresh morning, Levkojen turns to the green robed man and takes a good look at him. Melora is actually the only god who she is acquainted with, from the cults of other sea folk.
''Have you come to take care of the church? A new start for the town would be nice. Humans don't do so well when they try to worship the Great and Terrible Dagon.'', she says quite friendly.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:24, Fri 10 Aug 2012.

The man, broad of shoulders and smile, answers Levkojen, "Yes, you could say a storm blew me in." A whip of wind obliterates her trailing thought.

"You can call me Marius; if you see any folk with time on their hands, send them up here. Plenty to be done."

He starts gathering wayward limbs, some the size of giant crab legs, and piles them on the wet grass before the chapel.

"Bonfire, tonight," he promises.

Having your own itinerary, you descend church hill to the holding cells and steel yourselves for rampant self-mutilation, projectile vomiting, and leprosy.

A baritone voice booms from within, "Help you, folks?"

On their way down to the village Levkojen says by way of conversation ''The gods work fast and efficient, I guess. I am impressed, and a bit fearful.'' Whatever caveat did worry her, for now it is gone.

She hesitates though at the friendly welcome from the jail house. She looks unsure at Gethin. The talk of the others had her expecting something else - not quite sure what, but certainly not this.
She recovers fast, however, and since none of the others speaks up she says ''A good morning to you. I take it you have some prisoners? Who are you anyway, if I may ask?''

The complete and seemingly sudden change has Gethin more than puzzled.  Questioning his own sanity, almost.  Could the whole thing have been some fevered dream?  A shared madness?

Gethin looks around quietly as soon as they enter.  Any sign that the place was recently cleaned?  ((Perception = 23))  And as the jailor answers Levkojen, he watches the man closely, trying to determine whether he's telling the whole truth.  ((Insight = 33))

"I'm Joseph," the jailer greets as you sheepishly enter the holding cells. He has bushy red hair and eyebrows to match. He notes your confusion and explains, "It's true I'm new to the job but my father was a lawman and his father before him. I'd originally come for the fair but couldn't finish the trip with all the blowing and howling."

"Looks like I have three charges," he motions to the three sullen sulking murderers. "Foreigners, they are. They'd never belong in a town like this."

He might not have been here long but he's managed to tidy the place up. Truncheons now hang from their own pegs on the walls instead of crowding the desk. Prisoners now have buckets instead of corners. Stuff like that.

Dawnstone was more curious about the town itself. How many had survived? Was the touch of Dagon still felt? Now that the voice was gone-was it truely cleansed? As soon as there was time-the crystal shaman would have to commune with the land once more-and find out what else the primal forces required of him...