CHAPTER 14
The Jewel of the East, Gaelia

The P.A.R.T.Y. exits the strange pocket dimension that served as Ka's prison cell without incident, materializing at the top of the Temple instantly. Staff Sergeant Akkar is already there, looking down the staircase at the chaos below.

Though it feels as though the delve through the temple took weeks, the sun hasn't moved much from where it was when you began your quest -- perhaps a few hours, at most, seem to have passed.

More immediately concerning is the presence of two large, shimmering bubbles, which enclose the temple like the double-layer of glass that protects upscale snow globes.

The first bubble is maintained by a ring of Husks, who stand in a loose circle outside the shield with their backs toward the temple and are clearly focused on nothing but maintaining the shield.

The second bubble is maintained solely by Amenhotep, who stands inside his second shield but outside the first one. There is about a 10-foot perimeter between the two shields, in which the battered, bruised, and very heroic Dune Riders are have crowded themselves. The Husks maintaining the first shield stand between the two, as well.

Maeve is the first to notice that the full compliment of soldiers is not accounted for, and her gaze turns toward a half-dozen bodies strewn beyond the second shield. To their credit, they are mingled with about a score of dead and dying horses and armored cavalry riders.

Zuriel had spoke of a battle of some sort, but if there had been a siege, it seems to have lifted -- at least for now.

Beyond the shield stretches the ruined city in every direction, and even taking into consideration the fact that it had until recently been buried, it has seen better days. Smoke billows from all four quarters, and in the distance you can hear the screams of combat and the sounds of steel on steel.

It seems that, for some, the fight rages on.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:22, Thu 02 Apr 2015.

Lyriel makes her way briskly to the Dune Raiders, trained eye quickly triaging the extent of their respective injuries.

What happened out here? she asks with no small concern as she begins to heal the soldiers.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 2):

Lyriel passes through the first shield to reach the soldiers nestled in the space between it and the second shield without incident. She does notice, however, that the barrier looks opaque behind her -- she cannot see through it, and it crackles menacingly.

The soldiers are grateful for her aid.

"You're alive," Lt. Abbabwa croaks out weakly, holding his side gingerly but refusing any healing until the others have been seen to. "When the paladin failed to return, we assumed the worst. Is the Major ok? What happened in there? And what's happening here?"

OOC: How much of your remaining magic are you using here? Are you triaging those who might die, or trying to get them into combat shape again?
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:30, Thu 02 Apr 2015.

Lyriel nods. The Major is fine. Had a close call, but it will take more than an eight armed monstrosity to send our Maeve to her maker. She grins slightly, relishing the wide eyed reaction from Lt. Ababwa. We've done what we came for. Now it's time to secure this site and keep your men alive. Let's see what can be done about these injuries.

Lyriel closes her eyes, and concentrates on touching the divine flow of magic.

[Sacred Boost: Maximized Mass Cure Light Wounds targeting the 15 most injured Dune Raiders: 33]

[Mass Cure Light Wounds targeting Lt. Ababwa and the 14 Dune Raiders closest to fighting shape but with more than superficial injuries: 30]

The Major should be along shortly. I imagine she will want to secure the civilians. Is everybody feeling better?
This message was last edited by the player at 14:54, Thu 02 Apr 2015.

"These barriers are one-way only" Zuriel warns the PARTY as they reach the base of the ziggurat. "Once we leave, the Husks will need to lower the shield before we can return."

Zuriel's ears pick up the distant sound of combat, and a feeling of dread settles into his stomach. "If the Dune Raiders are here, then there's nobody protecting the civilians!"

Summoning Shahara in a flash of light, he vaults surprisingly gracefully into her saddle. She whinnies in greeting, pawing at the street with her hoof. She lunges forward, carrying the paladin swiftly to the Dune Raiders. Seeing Lyriel actively tending their wounds, he turns to Lt. Ababwa.

"Good job holding the perimeter, Lieutenant. We couldn't have completed our work without you. And what of the civilians? What happened to Dr. Jones?"

[OOC Misread Sgt. Akkar being there, edited]
This message was last edited by the player at 17:03, Thu 02 Apr 2015.

"What do you mean?  Akkar's right there," Maeve says, pointing to where the staff sergeant is milling about.

Maeve gives a sharp whistle and Sekhmet alights nearby, seemingly no worse the wear for the exciting goings-on outside.  She and the griffon then take off to go and see to the civilians.

[I assume.  If you've hurt my griffon, I will cut you.]

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 6):

Lyriel's ministrations quickly get the soldiers back on their feet, and they follow Maeve and Zuriel into the city to check on the civilians. Boreas and Keef (apparently) remain transfixed at the scene before them, and take no immediate action.

In the City
Maeve soars over the ruined city, breaking apart from the mounted Zuriel and the 22 remaining soldiers to get a better vantage point of the situation.

What she learns isn't promising.

Recall that the city's layout is that of four roughly equal quarters, with the Temple of Ká in the middle. The venture company had set up shop in the circular avenue surrounding the Temple, which allowed access to all four quarters of the city simply by walking around the loop of broken, buried cobblestone and sand.

The ramshackle tents, buildings, research stations, quarries, and dig sites seem to have been largely abandoned, and most of them have been put to the torch. Horses and camels lay slaughtered in the streets, with those still alive panicking at the stench of death and fire.

There are no actual people to be seen, however, except for armored heavy calvarymen who are decidedly NOT wearing the Sultan's colors. They patrol the streets in groups of 4, though what they are looking for is a mystery.

Zuriel's amber eyes narrow in anger. "This must be stopped. Now." Shahara whinnies indignantly, apparently likewise outraged by the slaughter.

He shifts in his saddle, addressing the soldiers behind him. "Lyriel, see what you can do for the survivors. Lt. Ababawa..."

The paladin shoots a glance up at Maeve, flashing Dawn in an arc to beckon her down. "Barring countermanding orders to your men from the Major, here is what I recommend. These streets are too narrow to bring your full force to bear anywhere. We ought to split up into teams. With the Major coordinating from above, we can use the narrow streets to pincer these horsemen. Our injured can disengage and cycle back to Lyriel for healing."

Zuriel narrows his lips grimly. "We have people to protect."

Boreas clears his throat, popping back into view.

I might offer my assistance.  I'll follow some of these cavalrymen for a bit and see if I can figure out what they're up to.  He looks to Maeve.  If you think the idea prudent, that is.

With that, he fades once more.

[Casting Walk Unseen]

"A wise plan.  As always Zuriel, you have a good eye for tactics.  Keef, if you ride with me or polymorph into something that flies, we can help by raining attacks on them from above."

Boreas heads off to follow whatever group Maeve designates.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 11):

Boreas completes a comprehensive reconnaissance sweep before returning to the P.A.R.T.Y., and reports that to the best of his knowledge, the patrols are looking for any stragglers. From what Boreas could gather, most of the civilians have been rounded up and transported elsewhere, though he was not able to ascertain exactly where that might be. It was talked about as though it were not nearby, however.

Zuriel lets out a pent up breath at the news. "Ill tidings to be sure, but with a silver lining. There may be more survivors than it appears."

He looks to the rest of the PARTY. "Plan remains the same. We look for survivors, engaging the cavalry as necessary. But if possible, we need to take at least some of these horsemen alive to figure out where - and how - the researchers are being transported."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 13):

The P.A.R.T.Y. stalks and isolates a four-man group, then dispatches them with relative ease.

OOC: Time-saving handwave. You weren't gonna lose. I rolled some quick dice for wide-scale results.

Two of the cavalrymen are killed in the confrontation, but you're able to arrest the other two without expending much effort. All four horses are killed, however.

It doesn't really matter what you ask the captives; their eyes are completely glazed over, and they've been as limp as ragdolls since their capture. Frisking them carefully reveals no insignia or other identifying features, though you are able to determine that their equipment is masterwork in quality.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: Obviously, they are enchanted in some way.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:11, Mon 06 Apr 2015.

Zuriel waves a hand in front of the captive's face, snapping his fingers to no avail. He sighs, rising up from where he was crouched on the cobblestone street.

He turns to Maeve. "I'm going to go out on a limb and wager we're dealing with some extremely powerful magic here. It's just a hunch, but I'm fairly certain cavalry doesn't typically rain from the sky. My bet is on Cenadora."

He looks down at the listless knights at his feet. "Let's try one thing first. Lyriel, can you dispel whatever enchantment he has on him?"
This message was last edited by the player at 13:00, Tue 07 Apr 2015.

The priestess examines their captive, pressing her lips into a thin line. I can try. The aura he has on him is very, very powerful.

She points a finger at the knight and incants her spell. [Dispel Check vs. DC 20: 19] Emerald light circles up and down the knight's body, but a deep violet hue overcomes it and it fades. The knight's eyes flutter, but he remains deeply ensorcelled.

Lyriel swears. I almost had it! Give me another moment.

[Dispel Check vs. DC 20: 21] This time, the emerald light that swirls around the knight's head takes hold.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 16):

The knight awakens with a start and blinks rapidly before crawling backward from the armed figures in front of him.

"Who... what.... where am I? What have you done to me?"

"You were under the influence of some extremely powerful and rather inconvenient sorcery. Don't worry, we don't mean to harm you. What is the last thing you remember?"

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 18):

"I was... hmm," the knight frowns, contemplating the question. "I was on a routine patrol around the gates of Jannah when I was summoned to the command tent."

The knight speaks slowly, as though the information is difficult to coax from his mind.

"I remember being excited by the honor of meeting the Amir for the first time, but I never actually saw him. The command tent was filled with light and shadows. It was impossibly light and dark at the same time. I saw the figure of the Amir, a tangible presence I could not see, and I could tell I was being appraised."

"The Amir said that a team was being put together for a special mission, and asked whether I knew how to wield the truth. I was confused and stated as much, at which point I was given an unlit torch and ordered to light it using nothing but the power of my mind."

"I protested that I was not a mage, at which point the figure reassured me that I could still serve. I was then instructed to stare at the unlit torch, which I did."

The knight frowns.

"I remember a flash of light, and then... nothing. I find myself here, with you, in what is assuredly NOT Jannah. And so I ask you, what's going on?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:20, Tue 07 Apr 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 19):

"Jannah's not a real place," Staff Sergeant Komis Akkar snorts, turning toward the P.A.R.T.Y. to explain. "It's a fairytale land of milk and honey that features prominently in Gaelian lore, as I'm sure the Major could tell you."

"But what the Major may not know is that it's also the name the Chainbreakers have been using for their rumored stronghold."

The sergeant narrows his eyes at the knight.

"So one might wonder how you wound up there... and whether your presence is missed elsewhere."

In reply to DM (msg # 20):

The knight's eyes widen as he recognizes the livery of the Sultan's military forces on Komis and Maeve. His hands fall to his empty sheath as he looks frantically for his sword. Failing to find it, he adopts a defiant tone instead.

"I am a free man," he says, emphasizing every word. "Jannah knows no slaves."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:26, Tue 07 Apr 2015.

Zuriel's shuts his eyes, letting out a sigh. "Catching escaped slaves is the least of our worries right now," he says firmly, holding up a hand, "but the fact that the Chainbreakers would be interested in the Temple to Ka - hells, that they even knew how to find it, much less had the kind of magics to transport an army here - is deeply concerning. That means these Chainbreakers are much, much more than a simple slave rebellion."

He turns to look to Maeve. "In the interest of the many lives at stake, I would strongly advise you to make an agreement with this man for information in exchange for not asking too closely who else may be looking for him," he said meaningfully.

I hate to interrupt storytime, Lyriel says, fidgeting with her signet ring, but we are still in the middle of a warzone. Can we focus on clearing these streets and finding survivors so we can move on? You will have plenty of time to chat when we aren't under attack.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 23):

As if on cue, another patrol of four cavalrymen comes into view at the far end of the street. They don't seem to see the P.A.R.T.Y. just yet.

Lyriel hisses in irritation, making a gesture akin to brushing off a fly.

[Casting Empowered Flame Strike]

A nova of blinding emerald energy detonates in the center of the cavalry, forcing those watching to shield their eyes. When the flash dissipates, all that is left is ash curling in wind.

She turns to their captive. Cooperate, and no harm will come to you. I would strongly recommend against attempting to run.

With that, Lyriel alights gracefully in Stony's saddle. Come on, let's get this over with.

In reply to Lyriel Vesper (msg # 25):

The P.A.R.T.Y. systematically hunts down and eradicates the woefully inadequate patrols. When the dust settles, all hostiles have been driven from the ruined city and P.A.R.T.Y. has a total of two captives: the disenchanted one you spoke to earlier, and the still-enchanted one you captured during that same encounter.

The disenchanted knight hasn't said much since Lyriel disintegrated four horsemen with a gesture, and looks rather sullen about the whole thing.

The group reconvenes near the shielded temple, frustrated at its inability to make headway on the issue of the civilians. Over the course of the next hour's worth of arguing and debating next steps, about a dozen members of the venture company come out of their various hiding places and make their way toward you.

"It was horrible," one of them says, wringing her hands. "Those soldiers rounded up anyone they could find and took them through their yawning portals. We scattered into whatever buildings we could, and hid in the various nooks and crannies."

"They got most of us on the first pass, and ran down those who scattered shortly afterward. We were actually in the dig site at the time, which is how we escaped," another says. "I think we're the only ones."

Much of the day has now passed, and the sun is mercifully beginning its descent -- though the shields around the temple are bright enough that the setting sun doesn't actually remove much light from your surroundings.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:09, Tue 07 Apr 2015.

Zuriel greets the survivors, tending wounds as best as his depleted energies allow. So few...

"If the raiders took the time to round up survivors, then they're probably meant to be kept alive. So there's hope." He turns to Maeve and her command staff. "Our situation here just got much, much more complicated. We need to figure out how and why the Chainbreakers are involved, and how in the Nine Hells they have access to such potent magic. We have a large number of people in need of rescue...and we have an abandoned temple of immense historical value in the middle of the desert."

"Keef and Amonhotep, the Sultan will likely claim dominion over this site. If there is anything of value to Ka, I'd recommend seeing to it."

He glances over to the remaining archaeologists. "I'm afraid your research will likely need to be postponed, given the circumstances. Let's take an inventory of the supplies and equipment we have left."

"I think we need to return to the General, Maeve."

With that, Zuriel hops into Shahara's saddle and wearily begins an extensive search of the city, calling out to potential survivors in hiding.

"Yes.  There's nothing more to be done here."

Maeve helps with the preparations to depart but remains quiet and withdrawn distressed over the death of so many soldiers under her control.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 28):

Keef nods, turns on his heel, and marches back into the temple to begin the process of "looting in the name of Ka"

Lyriel nods. Let's get a move on then. There's much to be done.

At her side, the sealed scroll burns with a heat Lyriel could almost feel. It took all her self control to keep from ripping it open in the streets of Ka's city.

Boreas appears momentarily to discuss strategy.

I'll sweep the perimeter and gather any intelligence I can.  If I can find a portal especially, I'll come back and let you know.

He fades once more and sets off.

[Casting Walk Unseen]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 31):

Boreas completes his careful circuit, but is unable to find any portals. He does, however, see traces of portal-related magics pretty much everywhere.

It takes Keef several hours to haul the treasure of Ká out of the temple, but it's easily $100,000 worth of treasure -- perhaps millions, if properly categorized and auctioned to the proper audience.

Maeve takes some solace in knowing she still had 22 men under her command. Losing 33% of your forces isn't great, but things could have gone worse.

Lyriel storms about in a foul mood until bedtime, when her ruminations are shrouded by her tent.

The survivors pack up whatever it makes sense to pack up and get the remaining animals ready to go. The sum total is a depressingly small caravan compared to the initial foray into the unknown, but strictly speaking, the expedition was a resounding success.

OOC: If you want to do anything between now and returning to the General, please let me know. Also, what are you doing with your prisoners?
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:13, Tue 07 Apr 2015.

[OOC I figure Lyriel can break the other guy from his enchantment, and Zuriel can work on trying to get them to cooperate. He'll quietly make it clear that he supports freedom for slaves, but that he worries the slaves are being used to other purposes. He also indicates that the more they cooperate, the more likely it will be that they will remain free. He specifically wants to know about how the Chainbreakers are being funded, and supplied with magic.]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 33):

"Are we under arrest?" the prisoner asks. "I'd want to know under what statute and authority we're being charged, if so. If not, I want you to sign a contract hiring me and my colleague as mercenaries."

He narrows his eyes.

"If you intend to clap my wrists in irons, you will find yourself dragging me behind a horse -- I will not go willingly."

In reply to DM (msg # 34):

As Keef exits the top of the ziggaraut, he pauses, then withdraws Flame Tongue from it's sheath.

He then raises it above his head in one hand and brings it down quickly, piercing the stone of the temple and embedding the sword some inches.

There Keef leaves the weapon and makes his way down the steps to depart.

"As I see it, you've been rescued from ensorcellment, during which you cannot have been legally responsible for your actions. I don't think there's anything to arrest you for. I would counsel, however, that you may wish to 'forget' certain aspects of your past. Sorcery is odd, you know," Zuriel replies, grinning faintly. "I'll draw up the employment contract myself, if I have your cooperation."

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 36):

Both men will readily sign an employment contract hiring them for standard day wages, to be renewed or dismissed at the end of the month.

Employment secured, Zuriel will attempt to learn more about the Chainbreakers during the trip back to the General.

[OOC - ready to move on]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 38):

Barring any objections from the group, the two captured knights are signed into your service at a rate of $2/day. The total caravan, then, consists of the following:

• 20x rank and file Dune Riders
• 14x rank and file Venture Company members
• Lt. Ababwa
• Staff Sergeant Komis Akkar
• Maeve
• Zuriel
• Boreas
• Keef

After the first night, Lyriel is nowhere to be seen. Concerned P.A.R.T.Y. members are filled in by Zuriel that she had an urgent personal matter to take care of, and that she would Send to them when she was able to return.

Notably, Amenhotep and the rest of the Husks have opted to stay behind to protect the city (well, the temple, mostly) from untoward aggression and to, in their words, prevent another prison from being fashioned for Ká.

The journey back to General Hassan's is relatively straightforward, though a bit slow-going at times. Unfortunately, a guard at the camp informs you that the General has been summoned north to handle a pressing matter and is not expected to return for several seasons.

Ultimately, the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself in the bustling city of Caelah once more, with plenty of time on its hands to calculate any next steps.

OOC: There are many competing priorities within the P.A.R.T.Y. right now, and I'm not sure which ones are important to whom. I'm willing to handle a Choose Your Own Adventure-style party split if that's what players want to do, but I'm also willing to keep the band together for whatever next steps are deemed prudent.

[Crossroads]
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:34, Wed 08 Apr 2015.

Zuriel does his best to fill in for Lyriel's absence with his magic, but it is (presumably) Keef who provides the lion's share* of the magical resources for the long trip back, thanks to Keef's clubhouse. Zuriel is increasingly weary as days drag on, and does not appear to be getting much sleep.

Upon the PARTY reaching Caelah, Zuriel infoms the PARTY that he will be returning to the Eternal City to attempt Ma'or's resurrection. Though he intends to be as quick as possible, the difference in the flow of time might mean he is gone for quite some time.

[OOC cwut i did thar?]

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 40):

Keef is all too happy to fill in as best he can, and the Clubhouse is open nightly to all.

It is as welcoming as ever, but the overt presence of Ka's banners strung between the statues and reliefs on the wall are missed by none.

Maeve is disappointed but not surprised to hear that her father has since departed Caleah.  Her immediate priorities are to A) see if she can find out more about this "pressing matter" in the north to try and figure out whether it might have something to do with the Chain Breakers and B) to release the surviving Dune Riders back to doing whatever it is they do when they're not accompanying ill-fated missions to hidden temples.

"I'm not going to be much help with Ma'or, I'm afraid," Maeve says in response to Zuriel's plan.  "Not really cut out to be resurrecting gods, especially not the old ones.  I was raised Hortite but only in the loosest sense of the word.  Church only on the high holy days and such."

Maeve as it turns out doesn't have a concrete plan, but will decline to accompany Zuriel to the Eternal City in order to instead try and tease out any connections between the Chain Breakers and OSA, whatever that might entail.  And also to try and figure out how the Ghosts tie in to all of this.

I never took you as a pious one, but I could certainly see you enjoying the Feats of Strength.  Possibly also the Airing of Grievances around the great pole.

Boreas attempts to make contact with the Primal Voice in his eye or to make contact with Fey'driel through some other means.  He intends to ascertain whether everything is going well.  If all is well, he will accompany Maeve on her mission.  Otherwise, he may travel to Fey'driel to deal with whatever requires his attention.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 43):

Keef does not suggest any particular course of action or destination, nodding silently at each other P.A.R.T.Y. member's plans and ruminations.

(OOC:  Unless anyone objected or brought it up, Keef shows no signs of sharing any of the treasure from Ka's temple.)

With nothing further to do in Caelah, Zuriel bids the remaining PARTY a subdued farewell.

[Private to DM: Zuriel will check in with the Runesmith before he leaves to see if Lyriel had collected her brother's sword before departing.]
[Private to Keef: Zuriel finds the young mage before he leaves. "Good luck to you, Keef. I didn't get a chance to say it before, but I'm very proud of you." The paladin wraps Keef in a quick hug. "Leading a church is a lot of work, as I'm only beginning to find out, but I'm more than confident that you can shoulder the burden. It seems that light cannot exist without shadow. You have a real chance to redefine what that means, and help a lot of people." He smiles wanly at Keef. "I'm going to miss you. Good luck and fare well."]
[Private to Maeve Hassan: Before departing, Zuriel will sign the mercenary contract over to Maeve. "Take care, Maeve. This Chainbreaker revolt has me concerned. I fear a lot of innocent people are being used to foul ends."]
[Private to Boreas Highwind: Zuriel clasps hands with Boreas. "Keep your eyes - eye - peeled. This revolt has the potential to get out of hand very quickly. The slaves have a good cause, it's those pulling their strings we want. I doubt the Sultanate will make such a distinction." The paladin presses his lips into a thin line. "I know you'll do what you can," he says gratefully.]

With a nod and a wave, the paladin vanishes in a flash of light.

In reply to Zuriel Silendril (msg # 45):

Keef watches Zuriel go, blinking and standing silently with his 'new' Longshank.

[Private to Zuriel Silendril: Keef nods solemnly, but smiles.  I think I'm starting to see a path.]

In reply to Keef (msg # 46):

Maeve, Boreas, and Keef are left alone to tend what remains of the venture company along with the two mercenaries.

"The mission's over, ma'am, so we'll be redeploying to the front," Lt. Ababwa says. "If you're heading that way anyway, we wouldn't mind escorting you. If you're going to catch up later, though... well, we'd understand."

Komis is strangely quiet, and avoids eye contact while the officers speak.

In reply to DM (msg # 47):

Boreas is silent as well, communing internally with the voices in his own head.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: All is well, my Fairtheora, the Primal Voice says. The Sylvan people have done much to re-establish themselves, and we have been left largely alone by the other factions that vie for power here.

I watched the resurrection of Ká through our shared eye. Well done. Ká is an old friend, and a powerful ally... though you can never be sure he's given you the full truth. But your cunning has already discerned that.

The fallen spire remains rubble, as well. Feydriel spins smoothly; you may continue your quest from afar.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:42, Fri 10 Apr 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 48):

The awkward silence continues for a short time, after which Lt. Ababwa takes it as his cue to leave. He, Komis, and the others pack up, favor Maeve with a final salute, and ride off into the desert.

The remaining venture company members depart as well, eager to begin the work of publishing their findings and stripped of the desire to face more danger at the present. Besides, the contract was with Dr. Jones, and he appears to be among those who were kidnapped.

Though none of the treasure of Ká has been volunteered, Boreas and Maeve were able to collect a good $30,000 from collecting and selling the various pieces of masterwork armor dropped by the heavy cavalry that were dispatched back at the ruined city.

Seeing as Lyriel and Zuriel left before the armor could be sold, the treasure is ostensibly split three ways to the remaining P.A.R.T.Y. members. ($10,000 each to Maeve, Boreas, and Keef).

After a brief shopping spree, Maeve, Boreas, and Keef find themselves seated at a local watering hole with their two new mercenaries, debating next steps.

"If you want to know the truth about the Chainbreakers, you'll want to visit Jannah," one of the mercenaries says quietly. "But I'm not about to bring one of the Sultan's Finest to our headquarters without some sign of good faith. And if it's Ghosts you want, I'm afraid we can't help you with that at all. I didn't even think that was a real organization until you started chatting about it on the ride back."

[If the trio is indeed headed in the direction of "the front," wherever that happens to be, Maeve will happily retain the service of the Dune Riders.  It not, she'll dismiss them with her effusive thanks.]

She is a bit miffed about taking on the mercenaries, having not really wanted to do so in the first place but tries to get them to cooperate.

"And what would you consider a sign of good faith?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 50):

"A signed document wherein you agree that Jannah does not constitute Gaelian territory, and thus you have no jurisdiction there as a military officer or as an agent of the Sultan. We'll destroy the document with your supervision afterward; this isn't an attempt at blackmail."

[Actually, forget the Dune Riders.  If we're visiting a compound unfriendly to the Gaelian military, it would be ill-advised to show up with a whole bunch of them.]

"As if I could take down an entire organization on my own. But if that's what it takes to get to Jannah, then so be it.  So long as you adhere to your end of the bargain."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 52):

"But of course," the mercenary nods. "The Amir has often said that most of the disagreements between Gaelia and Jannah could be shored up diplomatically, if only we had a conduit for such conversations."

Once the document has been drafted and the P.A.R.T.Y.'s shopping has been completed, the mercenaries will be ready to lead you onward.

"The journey may take up to two weeks, depending on the weather. Be sure to provision yourselves accordingly."

In reply to DM (msg # 53):

Keef nods gravely, but though he follows Maeve and Boreas around the city, he doesn't do any shopping of his own.

For a moment, Maeve is certain the young mage has wandered off, then she notices a young man with dark hair, a long hooked nose and dull red robes who appears to be following her.

Instinctively, her hand falls to her weapon, but the strange man raises one hand and speaks in a familiar voice.

It's me, It's incognito. Don't know who might be following. 

[Private to DM: (OOC:  Disguise Self)]
This message was last edited by the player at 19:13, Tue 14 Apr 2015.

Boreas looks Keef's disguise over with a chuckle.  Seems to have worked.

"Very nice, Keef.  Useful skill to have."

With their cleric absent on her killing spree, Maeve searches the city for something that might prove useful in the desert--maybe a wand of create water or endure elements.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 56):

After spending some time carefully shopping around, Maeve is able to purchase a Wand of Endure Elements (50 charges) for $750, and a wand of Create Water (50 charges) for $375.

Boreas looks for a healing wand, and manages to find a Wand of Cure Moderate Wounds priced at $4,500. The proprietor suggests that a stronger wand might be available, but it would be even more expensive than that one to procure.

Keef wanders around in his excellent disguise, but purchases nothing.

When the shopping is completed, the trio gathers along with the two mercenaries at the outer gate of Jannah. Maeve is mounted upon her griffon, while Wes travels dutifully behind. Stony was left behind when Lyriel raged out of Gaelia, and thus both Boreas and Keef have a horse to ride if they wish. The mercenaries, for their part, have mounts of their own, assuming you've restored their armor and property to them.

The sun has just set, as the mercenaries insisted on traveling at night.

"Not only is it convenient to be out of the heat," one says, "but it's the only way to be sure we're on the right track."

The other one pulls out a thin sheet of parchment, unrolls it, and holds it up toward the starry sky. Maeve, Boreas, and Keef note that the parchment looks like a compass rose has been drawn onto it, and as the mercenary holds it aloft, the light from one of the stars it should have been obscuring shines through as though the paper wasn't even there.

The mercenary nods and rolls the scroll back up, pointing in the direction indicated by the star.

"That's our bearing tonight, then. Let's get going."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:15, Fri 17 Apr 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 57):

Keef, mounts up for the journey.

As in he literally turns himself into a mount.  For this leg of the epic desert quest, he chooses a rather practical camel.

In reply to Keef (msg # 58):

The five-person P.A.R.T.Y., such as it was, combed through the vast desert sands by night, pausing several times to realign itself with the stars. After nearly two weeks of traveling in this way, two stars lit up at once on the map.

"Finally."

The mercenaries directed the group in the direction of the space between the stars, following in that direction for several miles before coming to a stop at a seemingly random stretch of desert.

The mercenaries checked the map again, and noted that a third star was illuminated precisely above their heads.

Together, the mercenaries incant a short poem imbued with power.

"Prayer is heard, the chain is riven,
   Shout it over land and sea;
Slavery from Prime is driven,
   And the manacled are free."

Slowly a silvery streak of light unfolds in front of them, moving by its own power to trace the outline of a door.

"Welcome to Jannah," the mercenaries say. "Quickly, now. It will not stay open for long."

With that, the pair steps through the doorway and vanishes from sight.

Maeve, dressed in mufti for the expedition to Jannah, follows through the doorway leading the griffon along behind her.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 60):

Keef and Boreas follow suit (ostensibly), and the doorway slips away behind them, leaving nothing in their wake but the chill of the desert and a trail of hoofprints leading nowhere.

Our heroes find themselves standing just inside the main gate of what appears to be a small village. Calling it a gate is actually rather generous, as it consists of only three pieces of stone resting upon each other to form a large frame that looks out of place without a wall to attack to it.

There is neither a wall ringing the city nor a door or even a portcullis installed in the gate, and the mercenaries guiding them quickly motion for them to move forward and out of the way of the gate.

Maeve, Boreas, and Keef find themselves standing atop a hill which provides an excellent vantage point for their immediate surroundings.

The village itself looks more Astrenian than Gaelian, with a collection of huts scattered here and there among modest fields filled with grain and vegetables. A single orchard can be seen in the distance, nestled not far from a modern-looking mill built over the babbling river that courses through the center of the village.

A lumber yard can be seen beyond that, situated next what appears to be a quarry based on the wooden cranes built around it. The group is standing upon the only obvious road, which is not paved.

The mercenaries lead the group along the road and past the fields, which are not fenced off. As they travel, the expanses of farmland give way to the city center, which appears to contain a butcher, a baker, and candlestick maker, a tanner, a blacksmith, a general store, two taverns, an inn, and a town hall. All of these buildings ring a sizable town center, which contains a ornate fountain that depicts a muscular man rending a pair of shackles asunder.

There also two things you notice are not present at all: a jail or a church.

The mercenaries are greeted by everyone they pass, though not necessarily by name. Smiles and nods and salutes follow them wherever they go. The villagers themselves come in all shapes and sizes, including men, women, and children of all races. Some of them extend their greetings to Maeve, Boreas, and Keef (provided the boy has uncameled by this point).

"We should meet with the Amir first," the mercenaries say, heading toward the town hall. "You'll like him. This way."

"This place looks. . . . ideal," Maeve comments, gazing around her at the humble yet well-appointed village.  "I look forward to making his acquaintance."

Still, she does not forget that the quaint town may be harboring dark secrets.

Maeve feels a frisson of excitement, as if incredible events of great significance were occurring elsewhere.  But then she brushes it off and continues to admire the tidy village square.

"I must admit, I am impressed," she says to the mercenaries.  "Are all the residents here escaped slaves?"

Very impressive, Boreas agrees.  He scans the scene before him.

There's wheat, wood, stone... if only I had some brick and sheep.  I could make a killing.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 64):

One of the mercenaries stiffens at Maeve's question, while the other merely bristles.

"That's a loaded term in Jannah," he says. "Everyone here is considered free, no questions asked. We offer a fresh start and a clean slate to anyone committed to the cause of freedom."

With that, the pair follows Keef, Boreas, and Maeve into the town hall, where the Amir awaits.

The interior of the town hall looks quite a bit different from the exterior. Instead of the expansive office space you might expect, the interior is lavishly appointed in the latest Gaelian fashion. Woven tapestries, thick carpets, and plush pillows decorate the lobby, and a single staircase leads up to the second floor.

One of the mercenaries heads up the stairs, while the second remains in the lobby with you. Coffee, tea, and hookah are available in the lobby area, which is good because the first mercenary doesn't return for a good 30 minutes or so.

"The Amir probably has another appointment right now," the mercenary remaining with you says when asked about the delay.

This guess is confirmed when the first mercenary returns and beckons the group upstairs -- though the motion looks a bit more stiff than you'd expect.

The group climbs the staircase at a moderate pace, noticing that about halfway up the air gets noticeably cooler and more comfortable. There is no landing at the top of the staircase, just a large room that comprises the entirety of the second floor.

This room, too, is filled with luxurious appointments ranging from exotic plants and decorative sculptures to tapestries, pillows, and pipes. A large, low-standing table rests in the center of the room, with cushions scattered around it.

If the Amir is here, however, he is nowhere to be seen.

[Private to Boreas Highwind: (Except for you, because Boreas. Standing on the opposite side of the table, you see a man cloaked in a shroud of invisibility who looks familiar to you. The voice confirms your suspicions shortly afterward.)]

In reply to DM (msg # 65):

Cameleef spits politely at everyone who greats them in town.

When Maeve and Boreas walk into the town hall, Keef returns to human form and follows.  He circles the main room several times, taking in the tapestries and other decorations and tapping Longshank approvingly.

Chubbs climbs immediately to the top of the plotroom and promptly falls asleep, waiting for Keef and the others to catch up.

"My apologies," Maeve says hastily, and tries valiantly to remove her foot from her mouth by remaining quiet for the remainder of the trip to the town hall.  Her uneasy feelings about Jannah have increased notably.

When they are ushered into the empty upstairs room, they increase further.

"Hello?" Maeve calls softly.  "We were to have a meeting with the Amir."

In reply to DM (msg # 65):

"My, my," a voice says from other side of the table, though its owner cannot be seen [Private to Boreas Highwind: (except by you)]. "Johan and Wallace here dutifully reported that the three of you were powerful warriors, but they might have mentioned the emerald eye."

A laugh follows this statement, and the mercenaries look at each other in confusion.

"Boys, I'd like you to meet my old friend Garfunkel," the voice continues. "Oh, but he looks tense. Sit, sit, and be at ease. Despite what you might have heard, I have no quarrel with you. Not anymore."

Fruits, breads, and nectar appear on the table, and the speaker continues.

"Welcome to Jannah," the voice says, one of the rolls disappearing from the table as he ostensibly grabs it. Chewing accompanies the movement, and he sighs contentedly. "Where freedom, milk, and honey are realities instead of platitudes."

A goblet similarly vanishes as the roll is washed down, and then reappears on the table half full.

"Here, I am the Amir. So tell me, what brings you to my slice of paradise?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Mon 20 Apr 2015.

Boreas looks his old acquaintance directly in the eye.  With a slight smile, he says, I could ask you the same thing.  It's been awhile, Amir, but it seems you've done well for yourself.  Since you ask, we ended up here largely as a matter of coincidence.  We were on a personal favor for a friend.  I'm really more curious how you ended up in charge here.  And what exactly is Jannah?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 69):

"Jannah is a template for the world to come," Darris says simply, the goblet disappearing again as he drinks from it. "The goal is to create a low-population paradise that is sustainable and idyllic. Imagine a world where there are no temples to promote religious squabbling. Where there is no crime due to the respect people have for one another. That world is Jannah."

The goblet reappears, empty, and a platter of figs and dates vanishes shortly thereafter.

"It's time you faced the facts: the planes are spiraling out of alignment, and everything you know and love shall fall to Oblivion. It is inevitable. "

Several platters move out of the way, revealing a strange-looking map resting beneath them on the table.

"You've played no small part in all this. We could not have established the Drynnian tower without your help, and though you destroyed our spire on Fey'driel, you also destabilized that plane by releasing a second god upon it."

The plate of fruit reappears, a pitcher vanishes, and a stream of nectar refills the goblet. Shortly afterward, the pitcher reappears and the goblet fades from sight.

"Through your actions, the Hells have fallen to civil war. The Heavens shall follow suit, according to the prophecy. Astria has swollen to a size far beyond its means, and the other planes are swaying this way and that in response like a multidimensional teeter totter."

The goblet reappears once more, and nothing further vanishes.

"Scripture tells us that the final sign before the End of Time will be the appearance of actual gods on Prime itself. They will wage a war so swift and terrible that it will threaten the very fabric of existence."

"And when the dust settles, Vora shall seize the tattered threads before they are unraveled forever and bind them together into something new. Oblivion shall become the Creator, and this imperfect, broken world will be replaced by something better. By Jannah, writ large."

"So it has been written, and so it shall be. And if you want a place in the world to come, now may be your last chance to see reason. You did not arrive here by circumstance or coincidence, but by divine providence. You have been given an opportunity to be part of the world to come. Resume your contract, and help us bring the glory of Jannah to all of creation.  What do you say?"

[Crossroads]
This message was last edited by the player at 23:33, Mon 20 Apr 2015.

Maeve helps herself to some of the food, figuring that if Darris wanted them dead, they'd all be bleeding out on the floor now.

"Forgive me my ignorance," Maeve says, rolling a fig between her fingers, "but as I've said to my companions more than once during our travels, the Gods aren't my strong suit."

"In which scripture is this written?" Maeve asks, biting into the perfectly ripe fig, partially stalling for Boreas to say something clever and partially out of genuine curiosity.  "As you're no doubt already aware, our two highborn companions are in the service of Tassada and so far as I know they never once said anything about an impending doom. "  Maeve declines to mention to Darris that Zuriel actually turned out to be a paladin of Ma'or.


"But more importantly, why would you have us join your cause?  We betrayed you once already.  Not really the sort of people you want working for you."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 71):

We also killed... LOTS of people, Keef adds.  N-1 mostly, but there were others.  We saved others too.

Keef goes back to tapping various parts of the floor with the end of Longshank.

[Private to Ka, the Eternal Maw: What do you think of this invisible person, Longshank?  He's not a friend, that much I know.]

Lots of things are written.  People make mistakes.  They're selfish, cruel, and savage.  But they also do acts of unimaginable kindness.  They're brilliant, loving, amazing!  You see the world as flawed and dying, but you would be amazed by what these people can do.  The end is far from inevitable.

So, regarding your offer, we politely decline.

Maeve smiles through a mouthful of fig.

"Or, you know, we could just cut to the chase and decline to take part in your venture as you probably knew we were going to do all along.  Still, the prevaricating was worth a shot."

Boreas readies himself in case something untoward happens.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 75):

A brief silence follows, during which the mercenaries seem to tense. Then, Darris laughs.

Suit yourselves. As I said, I have no further quarrel with you. Go enjoy the gift of life while you can... It will not be available to you for long. The gate through which you enetered will return you to Prime. I suggest you use it.

[Private to Keef: He seems to be powerful and deluded. This world is imperfect, but it is not beyond our ability to correct. Although... something seems wrong here.]

Boreas looks back.  The gift of life is never available to our kind for long.  But if we have anything to say about it, the world will be.

He steps through the portal.

Maeve follows suit.

"Well, I guess at the very least we can confirm that OSA is indeed involved with the Chainbreakers.  But what happens now?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 78):

Keef gets the distinct sense that Boreas and Maeve are trying to step through a gateway that isn't really there, though he cannot explain why.

I don't... he looks up from Longshank to his friends.

We shouldn't leave here... without...  he makes a totally subtle gesture with his head toward where Darris is most likely to be seated.

Boreas stops short.  Without...?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 80):

Without...  Keef clears his throat meaningfully and again gestures toward the empty spot at the table.

Maeve looks from Keef, to the empty spot at the table, then at Boreas, then back to Keef.

"I. . .I don't think I follow. . ."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 82):

Keef looks first at Boreas, then at Maeve, his jaw hanging limp.  He makes a series of small sounds which might be words in a language of Keef's own understanding but certainly wouldn't stand up to grammatical scrutiny.

I mean... Keef furrows his brow, then raises it, then lowers it.  What I'm trying to say... is...

He points at a small statuette on a small table as far from the invisible patron as he can find.

THAT STATUE!  CAN WE GO TALK ABOUT THAT STATUE!  IT LOOKS VITAL TO OUR QUEST!

Keef hurries to the small table and bends over, beckoning for Maeve and Boreas to join him in a huddle.

Boreas looks over.  Ah... yes.  It does look pretty important.  I think it might be magical or something... getting some kind of sense from it.

[Bluff 25]

He walks over to investigate.

"Oh for the love of. . ."

Maeve stalks over to the statue, muttering about "boys and their magical items."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 85):

Keef pretends to be squinting at some fine detail of the statue and pokes at it with one finger while he whispers.

Are we... I mean... we CAN'T let him leave here, can we?  He's too dangerous and...  Keef sighs.  He WILL betray us... it's just a matter of time.

Maeve darts a glance over at the place where she assumes Darris is still seated.

"Not the right place, Keef. Not here, where reinforcements are just around the corner.  We should leave, sooner rather than later."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 87):

Keef prods the statue again, and this time a delicate feature snaps off.  He quickly does his best to put it back together.

It just... he's going to try to kill us, Keef whispers, why give him the chance?

But he's not going to try to kill us right now, unless we attack him or something.  Then he will try to kill us.  And he'll probably succeed, if his friends can get here to help him.  I'd rather not kill him at all if we can help it, but if it does come to blows one day, I want the others by our side.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 89):

Keef uses both hands now to hold the small statue together.

He WILL.

After a moment, it's clear that Keef has nothing more to say on the subject.

In reply to Keef (msg # 90):

Whether by providence, arrogance, or dumb luck, Darris does not impede the openly-plotting-against-him P.A.R.T.Y. from taking their leave. When the trio does so, the mercenaries follow along behind them.

"I didn't know you knew the Amir," one of them remarks. "At any rate, shall we lead you back to the gate, or did you have other activities in mind before you leave? We have first-rate beekeepers, and a kind of squash pie you'll have to taste to believe."

"Oh yes,  we have a long history with the Amir," Maeve says.  "And you know, those activities sound wonderful.  I'd very much like to visit the apiaries."

And to try and discover what else you're hiding. . .

Maeve gets Keef alone for a moment and says in an undertone "Keef, you won't hear me say this very often, but I give you my blessing to wander off and explore whatever you please."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 92):

Keef's eyes go wide.

To... for me to... but...

With uncharacteristic force, Keef bear-hugs Maeve.

He quickly withdraws and looks at the floor.

We should go see the apiaries then.

Boreas smiles.  Yes, the apiaries sound fascinating.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 94):

As he follows, Keef's eyes suddenly go wide.

"Oh APIARIES!"  he smiles.  "Can we get some honey?  I wonder if honey goes into koffeechocolate..."

Either Keef has suddenly become the worlds greatest performer, or else he has completely forgotten about Darris.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:00, Tue 28 Apr 2015.

In reply to Keef (msg # 95):

The mercenaries nod and amicably lead the trio toward the village's apiaries, which is nestled far enough away from the village commons to keep the bees away from the soot and smoke of the blacksmith and the chemicals of the tanner without being completely inaccessible.

Carefully maintained gardens dot the area, each filled with wildflowers, clover, and more. Honeybees buzz merrily wherever you look, and several take particular interest in the vibrant green glitter of Boreas's gem.

No one is stung, however, and soon enough the group reaches a small stand that has been set up by the path. A woman of modest build sits behind the stand on a wicker chair, though she stands when the group draws near. She's dressed in a practical pair of coveralls worn over a spun linen top with its long sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Gloves and a hat to which a mask is attached rest off to one side, along with a curious looking container of iron that looks like a cross between a tea kettle and a billows.

The stand itself is filled with wares: glass jars of honey sealed with beeswax; beeswax candles; decoratively carved soaps wrapped in paper; and a variety of creams, pastes, and lotions.

"Newcomers?" she says, her voice perfectly pleasant and none too surprised. "Welcome to Jannah! I'm Lillian, and if you've got a sweet tooth we're going to be fast friends."

She smiles and walks around to the front of the stand.

"How can I help you today? And what talents do you bring to community?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:57, Tue 28 Apr 2015.

"Hello Lillian, and well met. I'll confess to a sweet tooth--I'm Gaelian after all, so we pretty much live on baklava.  And at the moment we're simply exploring and taking in what Jannah has to offer--quite a lot it seems."

Maeve admires the array of goods for sale and looks out at the hives, bees buzzing to and fro.

"I've always admired bees--so industrious, creating a great deal from relatively little.  Much like you've done here it seems.  If only we could talk to them. . ."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 97):

Keef darts (carefully) between beehives and the stand.

Can we see inside?  How do they MAKE the honey and where does it go?  Does honey go into koffee?  I don't like Tee, so I won't put honey in that.  SHE likes Tee though, so maybe some honey for koffee and some for tee so some for me and some for her and I don't know if he likes tee or koffee more but maybe honey?

In reply to Keef (msg # 98):

"I'd be happy to give you a tour," Lillian says. "Wait here."

She wanders over to a shed, and returns with shielded masks, gloves, and heavy, overlarge clothing for everyone but the mercenaries, who seem to be perfectly content not going on a tour of a beehive farm.

Once the trio has suited up, they are led by Lillian through the fields and to the nearest hive, which is kept in a curious-looking box that has been elevated on a platform.

"This is called a smoker," she explains, pickup up the tea kettle billows and squirting it into the hive box. "It makes the bees more relaxed, so we can get a better look."

She carefully opens part of the box and allows the others to look inside, where there are sheets of honeycomb built into ingeniously designed wooden panels that can be easily removed, extracted from, and replaced in a modular fashion. The bees are not completely idle despite the smoke, and a few buzz close enough that you're grateful for the protective clothing.

"Have you always been interested in bees? Most people just want the honey."

"Oh, absolutely.  Bees are fascinating.  I've always wondered. . . .

Maeve does her best to keep Lillian occupied with bee-related questions while Boreas hopefully takes her hint and gets some actual dirt from the bees themselves.

[I have a "lunch and learn" at work in about half an hour, and it hurts to even type those words.  Will be off until one-ish, I think.]

In reply to DM (msg # 99):

YES!  Well, no, not always, always since I saw them today.  I've always liked honey, but I never really had much... they had some in a little pot in the Pampered Lion, they ALWAYS do, but there was no spoon, only a little ball-on-a-stick with ridges to drip it on toast but we didn't HAVE any toast there but it was ok it works on fingers too.

All the while Keef shifts excitedly around the hives.

Boreas moves closer to the beehive, eye glowing faintly.  He leans in, inclining his head slightly.

Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you and the members of your Hive.  How do you fare today?

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 102):

Lillian smiles as Boreas whispers to the hive, causing several bees to land on his hooded cloak.

"I talk to them, too, sometimes. I've found certain kinds of poetry can dramatically change the flavor of the honey!"

[Private to Boreas Highwind: "We are dry and there is much to be done, so all is well. This hive will have a grand store of honey."]
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:59, Wed 29 Apr 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 103):

What about epic poetry?

Maybe some ballads about Sir Greenheart?

In reply to Keef (msg # 104):

The group banters about bees and their habitats and habits for a while, during which time Boreas learns the following:

1) That the hive's queen is the second of her name to rule since the hive's arrival in Jannah
2) That the area is "small"; that is, after a certain point the land simply stops
3) There are no predators here beyond the humans, who provide them with flowers in trade for the honey

"So what is it that you do, my friends?" Lillian asks once the group has returned to her stand after their tour. "Here in Jannah, everything works on the barter system. If you want honey or wax or candles or soaps, I'm your girl. But what services do you provide for Jannah?"

She lifts a jar of honey and smiles.

"What is this worth to you?"

In reply to DM (msg # 105):

Keef digs carefully through his bag of holding for a moment, muttering about 'local commerce'.

He finally pulls out a pair of dirty spellbooks and holds them up.

Not as golden as they honey but...

[Private to DM: These are the spellbooks of the 'evil' mages we fought at the prison break.]

"As I suppose you've probably guessed, I am a mercenary," Maeve says, nodding toward her weapon.  "Though from what I've seen of Jannah thus far, there would seem to be little need for such a thing.  No jails, no lawbreaking that I saw. How do you maintain the peace?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 107):

"There's two main reasons for crime," Lillian says in response to Maeve's question, "And that's discontent and malice. Folks here are pretty happy, especially given the lots most of us faced before our arrival. If we were to get kicked out of Jannah for breaking the peace, that's what would await us on the other side of the gate. Slavery."

"As for the malice... well, when you've suffered together, you develop a bond of sorts. We're all brothers and sisters here. You don't steal from your brother, nor murder your sister."

She shrugs slightly.

"Plus, the Amir's always watching. Folks vanish sometimes overnight."

She snaps her fingers.

"When they do, we know it's because they were planning to do something untoward. And that's just not tolerated."

Lillian glances at the spells books with a casual interest, then shakes her head.

"I'm afraid these aren't worth much to me, being that I can't read the runes. Nobody here can, far as I know."

She crouches down and hands Keef the jar of honey.

"But if you're the sort who can read those, that means you have power, right? Might be I could trade you this honey for a spellcast?"

In reply to DM (msg # 108):

Oh... I... I mean you'd WANT that?

Keef stuffs the offered books back into his bag and licks his lips at the honey.

Well sure!

In reply to Keef (msg # 109):

"Let me write it down," she says, jotting down a few words on a piece of parchment and handing it to Keef. "Do you think you can cast that for me?"

Keef glances down at the piece of paper, and Maeve notices that his eyes widen more than usual. She quickly reads what is written along with the mage.


This message was lightly edited by the GM at 15:51, Mon 04 May 2015.

"Of course!  Keef's cast that spell more times than I can recall.  Though. . . .Keef, don't you need some sort of specific plant for that one?  I think I saw a patch growing near the gate where we came in."

In reply to DM (msg # 110):

"I... well it's not... oh....



OH!


YES!

Keef quickly folds the paper and stares very intently at Lillian.  Eyes remaining wide.  He speaks slowly and maybe a little too loudly.

YES.  I CAN CAST THIS SPELL!  IT WILL REQUIRE SOME PREPARATIONS AND REAGENTS TO PREPARE.  WHEN I HAVE FINISHED PREPARING THE SPELL I WILL BE... PREPARED!  IT IS A COMMON SPELL, VERY GOOD FOR... HELPING BEES TO MAKE DELICIOUS HONEY!  I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY YOU WOULD ASK FOR THIS SIMPLE COMMON SPELL THAT I WILL PREPARE!

(OOC:  I have a plan but... there are some guards at the gate, anything else that would stop her from walking to it?)

In reply to Keef (msg # 112):

Keef stands still for a moment with his head cocked in the air.  He twirls his staff absently and seems not to notice anything about him to the point where Lillian waves her hand in front of his glazed eyes.

Chubbs croaks loudly, scaring away a bee that (though he is indifferent to), was too close to him.

Oh, yes... the spell.  Keef nods.  Very common, but I will cast it later.  First...

Keef turns to Maeve and Boreas.

I think we've seen enough of the apiaries?  Why don't you and Boreas head to the portal while I... while Lillian and I... while WE spend some... I mean, spend some TIME together... if you... well if you get the entendre...   Keef winks at Lillian as subtly as he can.

Keef gestures with his head for his companions to leave and, assuming they do, takes Lillian by the elbow and leads her toward a nearby storage shed.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:25, Mon 04 May 2015.

"Oh by all the gods. . ."

Maeve deftly hooks her arm through Boreas' and hastens away.

We have GOT to work on that lad's dissembling. . . .

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 114):

Keef leads Lillian somewhat awkwardly toward the shed.

We're going to the shed, he announces proudly.  A boy and a girl... and a toad he adds when Chubbs croaks in protest.

Keef nods and speaks in a slightly louder voice tinged with uncertainty and false bravado.

Yes, we will be there together for some time I shouldn't wonder.  Spending time together and...  Keef purses his lips while he thinks.  And I know what we're going to do... I do and... boy will we do that!

As they step into the shed, Keef whispers in Lillian's ear.

Get under my cloak and hold still.  I'm going to get you out of here.

Keef shuts the door and throws his cloak dramatically over himself and Lillian, knocking over a few rakes and some empty honey jars in the process.

See you on the other side,  he whispers.

Keef concentrates and invokes the power of Ka.  An illusionary duplicate of him and his cloak appears on top of him.

A few more words are muttered, and Lillian's body begins to shrink.  Her head swells to be the size of her body and thin papery wings sprout from her shoulders amid yellow and black fuzz.  Soon, a single honeybee buzzes around with Keef under his cloak.  He holds out a finger and waits for it to alite.

Now the fun part.

There is the faint sound of a key turning in a lock, then Keef, Chubbs and Lillianbee vanish from the shed.

In the dust and relative silence, "Keef" continues to "spend time together" with Lillian beneath his cloak.  Judging from the sounds made, even the illusionary Keef has no idea what he's doing.

In reply to Keef (msg # 115):

Keef and Lillibee make a beeline for the gate, with Boreas and Maeve heading in the same direction as quickly as they can without being thoroughly suspicious. The mercenaries follow along behind dutifully.

OOC: If you'd like to just surrender to the idea that this is not going to go smoothly, you can Boreas multi-port yourselves to the gate quite quickly.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:39, Tue 05 May 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 116):

Keef, being totally confident in his invisibility, moves quickly but quietly toward the exit.

In reply to Keef (msg # 117):

Sped along by rapid-fire warping, Boreas and Maeve easily reach the gate before Keef and Lillibee... though they have no way of knowing that.

The gate is unguarded and looks much as you left it. Far behind you, you can hear the cries of the mercenaries as they sprint after you in a vain effort to keep up. It will be several minutes before they can close the distance.

OOC: Wait for Keef, or just go through?

Maeve sighs.

"Keef, I really hope you know what you're doing."

With a decisive movement, she pulls Boreas through the gate.  Sekhmet, who remains parked by the entrance, dutifully follows.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 119):

Through the Gate

Maeve and Boreas plow through the gateway with a griffin in tow, and are only mildly surprised to find that passing through it transports them elsewhere. The transition is far from smooth, however, for the terrain doesn't seem to want to stabilize beneath their feet.

One moment, they are traveling over the verdant grassland of Jannah. The next, they are trodding upon the sandy dunes of Gaelia... but the sands are washed out and colorless. Their stomachs lurch with the sensation of free-falling, and the sand violently dissipates around them. For a moment, they seem to be running on a vast plane of nothingness, but this too is soon replaced by a muddy peat bog that is assuredly NOT in Gaelia. Slowly, the browns, greens, and yellows of the marsh become clearer, and the ground solidifies beneath their feet.

Mud squelches around their boots as their running comes to an abrupt stop, and they turn to view their new surroundings with obvious disdain.

The ground is wet, muddy, and marshy, with calf-deep mud and tall reeds and grasses growing on all sides. The air is humid and abuzz with the sounds of insects and frogs. Looking up at the sky, Maeve is surprise to find the sun obscured by a thick haze of smoke and other debris that covers the entire horizon, making it difficult to say whether it is early or late in the day.

Somewhere off to the north, a pillar of black smoke rises into the sky and, if you listen carefully, you can hear the distant sound of drums and bugles in the same direction.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:34, Wed 06 May 2015.

"How. . . .charming."  Maeve, though nowhere near as finicky as Lyriel regarding her attire, frowns at the mud sullying her boots.

"Where are we?  And for that matter, where is Keef?  Shit, I hope he winds up in the same place. . . ."

That thought is quickly banished by the sight of the smoke rising to the north.  Instructing Boreas to wait for Keef, Maeve scales a rise to see what the hell is going on.

Boreas finds his bearings, trying to discern exactly where the portal dropped him.

[Survival 14]

He takes out the magic compass and consults it as well.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 122):

Keef finds that, for some unknown reason, the spectre of Maeve's strong voice echoes in his head.

Sure I know what I'm doing.

He continues his quick, invisible, and non-footprint-making march to the gate.

In reply to Keef (msg # 123):

Keef plows through the dirt paths as quickly as his legs can carry him, and bolts through the gate without encountering much in the way of resistance. Lillibee remains with him, though she looks as perplexed as a bee can look about the whole thing -- and more than a little disoriented.

Boreas and Maeve put their talents to work determining their location. From Maeve's vantage point, the marshes seem to extend for miles in all directions, though the ground grows steadily more solid in the direction of the ominous plume of smoke.

The longer Boreas studies his surroundings, the deeper the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. By the time Maeve have trekked back to share her report, the woodsman is reasonably confident that they have somehow found themselves in Drynn.

The compass arrows indicates that the nearest source of magic is west, the nearest source of good is north, and the nearest source of evil is also north.

Boreas has just slipped the compass back into his packs when a fumbling squelching sound erupts around him, followed by a very Keef-like voice audibly voicing its surprise before once again falling silent. [Private to Boreas Highwind: (You can see Keef, being that he is invisible).]

For a heartbeat, the sounds of squelching intensify, but then the marsh goes back to its silent buzz apart from the panting of an unseen figure trying to catch his breath.

In reply to DM (msg # 124):

There is a buzz and a pop and Lillian erupts out of nowhere and splashes into the mud.

In reply to Keef (msg # 125):

"I... where... what..."

Lillian stops trying to speak, seeing as she is failing so badly at it, and simply takes a moment to acclimate herself to her familiar form.

"Where are we?"

She looks over her shoulder and shivers.

"Did he come after us?"

Maeve returns from her brief reconnaissance mission bearing the unfortunate news that the abbreviated P.A.R.T.Y seems to have landed in Drynn.

"Something's going on at the border of these marshes, can't tell what though.

"Who do you mean by "he," Lillian?  The Amir?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 127):

This is... a voice sounds from somewhere to your right.  An unexpected dimensional reduction...

There is a sudden splashing sound.

... which is also wet and slimy... where are we?

In reply to Keef (msg # 128):

"No," Lillian says, shaking her head and looking around herself suspiciously. "The Amir never bothers to..."

She takes a deep breath, gags a little at the marshyness of it, and eventually decides to risk speaking openly.

"The Amir is a dangerous man, but the one to fear is his hound. He... she... it is a dark-skinned ghost, utterly silent. Always watching, waiting. And if you say the wrong thing to the wrong people at the wrong time, it's the last thing you'll say at all."

Lillian begins to shake despite the warmth and humidity.

"It could have followed us. It could be here right now."
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:04, Mon 11 May 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 129):

There are more splashing sounds, as if Keef were doing Shatner-esque combat rolls to avoid something.

I... I don't SEE anyone...

In reply to Keef (msg # 130):

"If you did, it would be too late."

Lillian looks paranoid for a little bit, but after a few minutes pass she relaxes.

"Ok, we may be in the clear. Let me tell you something about Jannah: It's denizens are more slaves there than they ever were anywhere else. You can't leave. You can't communicate with the outside world. You do the job you're deemed best at, regardless your desires. And if you're called to the Amir's tent... you're rarely seen from again. Nobody knows what happens then."

She shivers again, and looks doubtfully at the marshy swampland.

"So... where are we? And do they need beekeepers here?"

"So far as I can tell, we've been transported to the continent of Drynn.  Beyond that, I'm afraid I couldn't say.  But it looks as though civilization is roughly to our north.  If we make for that direction, we'll at least be less wet than we are now."

As they walk, Maeve converses with Lillian while at the same time keeping a sharp eye for anything resembling a vengeful ghost.

"How did you come to be in Jannah in the first place?  And what made you realize that all wasn't as it seemed?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 132):

"I came to Jannah the same as everyone else: as a refuge from oppression. I was a slave in a former life -- my life before Jannah -- and I was freed by the group known as the Chainbreakers. We had heard of a settlement to the Northeast, but after the Gaelian army smashed it into the ground the whole thing went with it."

She clears her throat.

"Into the ground, I mean. Under it. The tunnel system is quite expansive, but it's a cold, dark, and claustrophic way to live. Then the recruiters came. They spoke of a paradise set apart from the world, an idyllic landscape with no hiding, no crime, no poverty, and no war. Who could say no to that? And so we came in droves, only to find ourselves in a prison far worse than our slavery had been."

"You said you spoke with the Amir. What... did he say? What was he like? I know it may be hard to understand, but a slave wants to understand their captor. Or at least know his face."

"That would be. . . difficult, to say the least.  The Amir cloaks himself in invisibility.  My friend possesses the ability to see through his guise, but I sadly do not.  The only other time I saw him, he was cloaked all in black.  He could be a man, a highborn, even two dwarves standing atop one another and I'd be none the wiser."

Maeve pauses in her tracks and turns to face Lillian.

"You should know, Lillian, that I am a soldier in the Gaelian army myself. I told you that I was a mercenary because I assumed that I would not be warmly received otherwise.  But seeing as we've spirited you away, it seems only right you should know the truth.  But have no fear, we do not intend to deliver you back to captivity.  Right now we are bound. . .well, frankly I'm not entirely sure--we should probably have a talk about that--but it certainly isn't back to your captors."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 134):

She nods slowly, swallowing audibly and taking a small step away from Maeve.

"It's the law, not the lawmen, that bothers me," she says, more to herself than to Maeve. Her eyes flick upward toward the column of smoke rising into the hazy skies.

"Is Drynn always so dismal?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:00, Tue 12 May 2015.

"In my experience, yes."

Maeve will remain quiet and at a respectful distance from Lillian until they reach the smoke and the sound of the drums.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 136):

The group cautiously advances toward the source of the drums and the smoke, though they don't seem to make any headway on either. In fact, as they draw closer to the billowing pillar smoke, they note that it becomes less black, less thick, and less dense over time. By the time you get close enough to make out its source, the drums have faded to a distant thrum.

Maeve, Boreas, Keef, and Lillian trudge over a rise in the marshland -- which has grown steadily more rocky and less wet during the trek -- and are finally greeted to a rather gruesome spectacle: a field of corpses, scattered throughout the muck as far as the eye can see. On the other side stands the blackened and charred ruins of a moderately sized city, which has clearly been razed by the victors.

Carrion birds and insects pick at the bodies of the dead with reckless abandon, and the powerful stench is nearly overwhelming. In terms of race, there seems to be a mixture of everything among the fallen: humans, dark elves, dwarves, minotaur, and even a few giants.

Maeve's well-trained military eye quickly deciphers the scene as best she can. Based on the positioning and grouping of the bodies, she'd wager a pitched battle took place between the city's defenders and whoever was attacking it.

The strange part, however, is that the bulk of the bodies here beyond the walls do not seem to be equipped for a siege... but if they were the defenders, why did they leave the protection of their walls to wage battle in the marsh?

Another question involves the siege itself. The walls and gates have clearly been battered down, smashed, and burned, but there are no tread marks in the swamp to mark the passage of the heavy equipment required to do so. Curious.

There are clearly answers among the banners. The bulk of the dead -- the losing side, Maeve wagers, which was defending the city -- bear the crest, seal, and colors of Choso, the Glass Tyrant. The smaller portion of the dead are clad in the grim and all-too-familiar sigil of Kazul.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:10, Wed 13 May 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 137):

Keef, now visible, wanders the corpses poking at them from time to time.

Chubbs blinks at the battered fortifications and shakes his warty head.

As if walls ever helped anyone.

Maeve grimly surveys the scene, feeling rather acutely the lack of Lyriel and Zuriel's healing touch.  The two highborn would no doubt have tried their best to at least make the dying men more comfortable.

"Come on," she says to the others.  "We need to find out if there's anyone left alive here.  And if so, to find out what happened."

Though I think I already have a pretty good idea.

Maeve begins slowly picking her way down to the site of the battle, keeping an eye out for any more Kazul soldiers looking to pick a fight.

Boreas moves with Maeve in search of the wounded or any survivors.  Looks like things aren't going well for Choso...

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 140):

The P.A.R.T.Y. picks through the carnage carefully (or, in Keef's case, with alarming disregard for the dead), searching for survivors and clues among the wreckage of wasted life.

Boreas scans the area for magic to aid in this effort, while Lillian makes frequent stops to retch her lunch upon the marshy ground.

Their efforts are interrupted when Maeve glances down to find the swollen hand of one of the corpses grasping at her ankle. She rips her leg free, and the hand lolls lifelessly in the marsh once more.

She shakes her head, angry at being so jumpy in a field of bodies, and returns to the task of surveying the bodies.

That's when they begin to rise.



~~ Initiative ~~
Keef
Maeve
Boreas
Lillian
Horde of Shambling Zombie Things (12x)
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:00, Thu 14 May 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 141):

Wow!

I mean...

Keef raises his hands, eyes tinted red, and spins in place.

All of you!  To me!

...don't get dizzy... he mutters to himself.

A thin red line winks into existence around Keef and pulses ominously.  Once everyone has run inside it, bright red flames roar upward, forming a thick circular perimeter of flames.  Though you cannot feel the heat on the inside, on the outside things begin to get roasty.

/OOC:  Wall of Fire, circular, around us with heat pointed out.  Not sure where people are so I can't tell where on the grid the circle is or how many zombies are inside/outside.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:59, Thu 14 May 2015.

Unable to reach any of the zombies through Keef's wall of fire, Maeve leaps astride Sekhmet and the griffon then soars majestically over to space G7 where the dynamic duo proceeds to wreak havoc from the air upon Z1.

Ride check: 38
FPA Z1: 32

Griffon attack: 31= possible crit
Confirm crit?= oh yes.

Total damage w/out DA= 58

Z1 falls to the ground in ribbons under their combined onslaught, in spite of the DR and possible cold resistance, while Sekhment hovers tantalizingly out of reach (I hope) and lets out a screech.

Boreas looks around at the wall of flame encircling him.

Not much I can do while I'm stuck in here.

[Casting Fey Step]

Though an image of Boreas remains inside the circle, he appears outside at B13.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 144):

Keef conjures forth a powerful column of living flame, which he weaves into a protective circle around the group. Pulsing waves of heat radiate from it into the swampland.

[Full Damage (Z3, Z8, Z9, Z12): 12]
[Partial Damage: (Z1, Z10): 6]

OOC: The above damage was applied on Keef's turn. Details below. I've also colored in the map to show where damage is being applied. It'll proc on Keef's turn, every turn, until it fades. Feel free to roll the damage for affected targets yourself, Keef, if you'd like. After all, you're burninating them! :)



Lillian, terrified by the zombies and the flames, cowers within the protective confines of the wall... though she doesn't get too close to Keef, either. Apparently knowing someone is a mage and seeing them in action are two very different experiences.

[Lillian: Full Defense]

Maeve's vicious attack cleaves both of her target's arms from its body, sending the creature crashing into the muck. Amazingly, the now-damaged zombie picks itself back up with a groan and hops comically in Maeve's direction while snapping his teeth.

The zombies advance, with several plowing through the wall of flames heedless of the horrible damage being dealt to them in the process.

[Damage (Z3, Z9, Z12): 40]

These four stumble as the flames eat away at the left arm (Z3), head (Z9), and burn a hole through the torso (Z12), but somehow... they keep coming. And they strike.

Z3 attempts to bite Lillian while the headless Z9 takes a clumsy swing at her, instead.

[Attack (Lillian): 17, 12]

Though the terrified bee-keeper is somehow able to dodge the flailing limbs of Z9, she shrieks in pain as Z3's rotten teeth rip a sizeable chunk of flesh from her shoulder.

[Damage (Lillian): 9]

The wound glistens with blood and... something else, and quickly blackens.

[Fort Save (Lillian): 6 (fail)]

Z8 charges just outside the wall of flames and flails in the direction of the illusory Boreas. His attacks are ineffective against the mirage, and his right arm is burned off in the process as the wall of fire claims it.

[Damage (Z8): 38]

Z12 manages to nip at Keef, as well.

[Attack (Keef): 18]

The attack lands, and the boy winces as the zombie's sharp teeth tear a piece of feel from his shoulder.

[Damage (Keef): 8]

He shivers as a strange sensation floods through him, but shrugs it off.

[Fort Save (Keef): 20 (saved)]

Z11 advances toward and attacks the real Boreas, lunging at him with his teeth.

[Attack (Boreas): 19]

The attack misses completely, and the battle rages on.

~~ Disposition ~~
Grid: https://docs.google.com/spread...M/edit#gid=728500300

~~ Round 2 ~~
Keef (Damage: 8)
Maeve
Boreas
Lillian (Damage: 9)
Z1 Beta (Damage: 0)
Z2
Z3 Beta (Damage: 0)
Z4
Z5
Z6
Z7
Z8 Beta (Damage: 0)
Z9 Beta (Damage: 0)
Z10 (Damage: 6)
Z11
Z12 Beta (Damage: 0)
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:43, Mon 18 May 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 145):

Keef's eyes glow red and crimson steam rises up from them.

If Lillian was a little uneasy around the mage before, she's terrified now.

... you touched her...

Keef raises one hand and from his fingers a bolt of red electricity sizzles into Z3 (32 damage, REF save fail).  The energy literally blows the corpse apart, and many of the bits fly through the wall of flame only to burn up and become so much ash on the other side.

(OOC:  unless of course they're immune to lightening.  I can't access the map so I'm not sure which zombies are being burned by my wall.)

Frustrated by the zombies' unwillingness to stay dead, Maeve lashes out thrice at the now armless Z1, hitting three times.

[Total Damage: 46 (Factor out 10 for cold if need be)]

"Why won't you stay dead?!"

Assessing the situation, Boreas takes a quick step back to A14.  His eye glows intensely, and frigid, whipping kelp strands spring from the ground.

[Casting Arctic Grasp]

The zombies caught within the area struggle as the strands whip out to entangle them.

[Grapple vs. Z2 27 vs. 13 - Success]
[Grapple vs. Z4 29 vs. 20 - Success]
[Grapple vs. Z5 21 vs. 23 - Fail]
[Grapple vs. Z10 29 vs. 22 - Success]
[Grapple vs. Z11 27 vs. 11 - Success]

Zombie 5 manages to wriggle free of the grasping kelp, but the others find themselves hopelessly bound.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:41, Mon 18 May 2015.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 148):

The zombie obey's Maeve's wishes and, this time, remains an inert corpse laying in the mud.

The zombies bound by Boreas's magic largely remain that way, and when Zombie 5 shuffles over to join combat himself, he joins their illustrious ranks as well.

Keef's roaring flames roast many of the zombies, as well.

[Damage (Z8, Z10): 11]
[Damage (Z1, Z2): 7]

Zombies 9 and 12 shamble lunge at Keef with their arms and teeth, attacking him.

[Attack (Keef): 21,4,19,20,23,22]

All but one of the blows connect, dealing significant damage to the mage, who is definitely not a tank.

[Damage (Keef): 35]
[Fort Save (Keef): 24, 19 (success)]

Zombie 8 plows through the flames to attack Lillian, but disintegrates for the second time as he passes through them.

The remaining zombies are unable to move due to the kelp, and simply groan at you in an intimidating way. Chubbs, to his credit, promptly ignores them.

Lillian continues to cower away from the zombies, trapped between them and the roaring flames while her ugly wound begins to glisten with yellow-green pus and bile.

In reply to DM (msg # 149):

~~ Disposition ~~
Grid: https://docs.google.com/spread...M/edit#gid=728500300

~~ Round 3 ~~
Keef (Damage: 43/57)
Maeve
Boreas
Lillian (Damage: 9)
Z2 (Grappled, Damage 7)
Z4 (Grappled)
Z5 (Grappled)
Z6
Z7
Z9 Beta (Damage: 0)
Z10 (Grappled, Damage: 17)
Z11 (Grappled)
Z12 Beta (Damage: 0)

In reply to DM (msg # 150):

Keef twiddles his fingers and from the tips beams of light of all colors explode outward and engulf the four zombies within the spread.

Z6 is hit with a beam of red light and immediately catches fire (20 damage ref fail)
Z7 and Z9 are struck by blue light but appear unaffected (turn to stone immune)
Z12 is struck by yellow light and explodes in a ball of crackling electricity (80 damage ref fail)

Hearing Lillian's screams from within the circle of flames, Maeve has the griffon flap back over to within the circle. . . .and proceeds to have a truly amazingly bad turn.

[Attack Z9 beta: 18]= crit fail
[Reflex save= 10]  (*another* crit fail. . . .but I still made it!)

Sekhmet is somewhat more lucky, as her talons rake into the zombie.

[Griffon attack: 29]
[Damage: 14]

The zombies inside the kelp area are chilled.

[Cold Damage: Z2 - 6, Z4 - 4, Z5 - 6, Z10- 5, Z11 - 6]

The strands wrap around Z5 as it tries to escape (detailed in previous DM post).  All of the other previously-grappled zombies struggle to avoid being crushed by the tendrils.

[Grapple Checks: All Success]
[Bludgeoning Damage: Z2 - 10, Z4 - 6, Z10 - 9, Z11 - 8]

Boreas fires a burst of energy at Z11, which strikes it in the chest and splits off, smashing into Z5 and Z10.

[Casting Eldritch Chain]

[Ranged Touch: Z11 - 22, Z5 - 31, Z10 - 30]

[Blast Damage: Z11 - 27, Z5 - 11, Z10 - 16]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 153):

Between the fire and cold and the kelp and the slashing and the beaking (this last courtesy of an irate griffon), the P.A.R.T.Y. is able to fend off the remaining zombies. The (un)life drains from their battered limbs, and their corpses fall to the ground for good.

~~ Pause Combat ~~

Before the P.A.R.T.Y. can catch its breath, however, a terrifying gurgling sound can be heard from the east. Whirling around, you see that the sound is coming from another section of the field of corpses... and the more you look at it, the more it looks like a mound of bodies.

The mound grows and builds upon itself, swelling into a large find yourselves confronted by a huge creature to appears to consist entirely of rotting flesh and bone. It someone manages to retain a semblance of humanoid form, with two distinct "legs" and two powerful "arms" made of various smaller parts. In place of its head is a collection of many, many rotting skulls, hands, and feet.

This gruesome creature surveys the battlefield, squares itself in the P.A.R.T.Y.'s direction, and unleashes a gurgling, moan-like scream for each of the various heads and skulls attached from it at once.

From her perch, however, Maeve is able to tear her eyes away from the beast long enough to notice a figure moving swiftly down the road to the north, heading in your direction. Whoever they are, they are moving quickly enough that they'll soon reach the battlefield, and are shrouded in a dark cloak while mounted upon a powerful-looking steed wearing bulky barding.

~~ Disposition ~~
Grid: https://docs.google.com/spread...M/edit#gid=728500300

Note: It's not a construct, but it is undead. Stats are available in the NPC area.

~~ Initiative! ~~
Maeve
Boreas
Keef
Horrible Fleshbeast
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:04, Fri 22 May 2015.

Well, that's just disgusting.

Maeve and Sekhmet fly over the flames once more and Maeve hops to the ground at space G7.  Sekhmet flies up into the sky, waiting to be summoned if necessary for but now avoiding the nasty pile of dead meat that even she would turn her beak up at.

[Attack: 37]
[Damage: 27]

"Did you not hear me the first time??? Stay dead!!"

As the zombies collapse into heaps of dead flesh, Boreas lets the magic summoning the kelp strands disappear.

[Out of Combat: Dismissing Arctic Grasp]

When the fleshbeast arises, he dashes up to C11.  The heat from the wall of fire is mildly uncomfortable, but causes him no harm.  He fires two scintillating blasts in rapid succession, striking the abomination one after another, knocking several bodies away.

[Ranged Touch Attack: 37]
[Crit Confirm?  Immune]

[Damage: 31]

[Casting Quickened Eldritch Blast]
[Ranged Touch Attack: 22]
[Damage: 21]
This message was last edited by the player at 02:46, Sat 23 May 2015.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 156):

Keef moves his hands and seems to... shudder with unnatural speed.  A almost invisible pinpricks of red light flick from his shoulders to those of Boreas, Maeve, Lillian and the Griffin.

I'll protect you, Keef assures the girl.  He remains with her in the protective wall of flame for the time being.

OOC:  Haste, 14 rounds

When making a full attack action, a hasted creature may make one extra attack with any weapon he is holding. The attack is made using the creature’s full base attack bonus, plus any modifiers appropriate to the situation. (This effect is not cumulative with similar effects, such as that provided by a weapon of speed, nor does it actually grant an extra action, so you can’t use it to cast a second spell or otherwise take an extra action in the round.)

A hasted creature gains a +1 bonus on attack rolls and a +1 dodge bonus to AC and Reflex saves. Any condition that makes you lose your Dexterity bonus to Armor Class (if any) also makes you lose dodge bonuses.

All of the hasted creature’s modes of movement (including land movement, burrow, climb, fly, and swim) increase by 30 feet, to a maximum of twice the subject’s normal speed using that form of movement. This increase counts as an enhancement bonus, and it affects the creature’s jumping distance as normal for increased speed.

In reply to Keef (msg # 157):

Lillian falls to her knees, gazing at her festering wounds in horror while sobbing uncontrollably.

The fleshbeast, for its part, unleashes a hideous moan from all the various and sundry skulls embedded into his misshappen body. It then flicks what passes for its wrist, and a horrifying coil of intestines lash out toward Maeve.

[Ranged Touch (Maeve): 17]

The coil wraps around the warrior, attempting to draw her into a constricting embrace. Fortunately, the slippery bile coating the intestines apparently slip and slide against her shiny armor, allowing her to shrug off the unwanted hug with relative ease.

[Grapple (Maeve vs Fleshbeast): 30 vs 23]

The fleshbeast groans again, and sprays a fine mist in Maeve's direction. As punishment, perhaps.

[Acid Spray Damage vs Maeve + Griffon (Reflex 14, 12; fail, fail): 22 damage]



The cloaked figure spurs his mount into a gallop from the north, rising to a crouch in the stirrups. About twenty paces from the monstrosity the charger rears, and the armored figure launches himself from the saddle, throwing aside his cloak to reveal a pair of wings as white as fallen snow.

With two powerful flaps, he closes the distance to the undulating mass of undead. In one motion, he draws his sword and points it downward.

"Kochi choder meha'avir la'adama!"

[Casting: Holy Storm]

An arctic blast explodes outward, covering the tepid swamps of drynn in a layer of purest snow. The flurries sizzle and burn as they come into contact with the undead, but Maeve only feels a pleasant tingling warmth as the snow touches her exposed face. The air around becomes brisk and fresh and altogether much more wholesome than the surrounding mire.

"La'azov!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:49, Thu 04 June 2015.

In reply to DM (msg # 158):

...wow...

"Sekhmet, get away from here!" Maeve calls out, more concerned for the griffon's well-being than for her own.  The well-trained griffon full retreats as far as it can away from the creature.

Maeve's eyes widen only slightly when the figure tosses aside its cloak to reveal impressive cream-colored wings.  Weirder shit has happened.

[Attack 1: 38]
[Attack 2: 23]
[Attack 3: 15]

[Damage: 23]

Boreas watches the cloaked figure's fabulous approach.  Oh good, another one.  Maybe this one likes to listen as much as Zuriel likes to talk.

He breathes a brief sigh of relief at the newly-arrived help, though.  He dashes forward to E13 and shoots two pulses of energy at the creature in rapid succession.

[Casting Quickened Eldritch Blast]
[Ranged Touch: 35, 25]

The blasts strike the same spot twice, one after the other.  The first creates a dent in the mass of flesh and bone, and the second punches a hole, sending decaying remains flying.  The beast staggers, the hole filling in with more detritus, and regains its footing.  It's a little smaller now.

[Damage 18, 17]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 161):

Keef flicks a small dot of light toward the rotting monstrosity.  It detonates behind the creature in a burst of fire.  The monster does an incredibly nimble tactical roll somehow, then rolls back to where it was standing before, avoiding some of the damage (18 fire damage.  Was 36 but it made it's reflex save unless its size changes things.  Seriously, he's better at dodging things than Keef).

Keef then steps over to Lillian.

Are you... ok?

In reply to Keef (msg # 162):

The fleshbeast manages to avoid a portion of Keef's blast by opening up a hole in the impact area (it is, after all, made up on thousands of different joints). Still, the fire chars and blackens the areas it strikes, and the creature moans once more.

Lillian glances up at Keef, her sobbing abruptly fading. Her eyes hold a glassy, far-off look, and the mage notices that her skin has taken on a chalky pallor.

"I can't feel my arm," she says, her voice a quiet rasp. "And yet, it burns. Burns like a bee sting. Like molten honey."

The tears streaking down her cheeks take on a reddish hue, and Keef realizes that they seem to be made of blood.

She then beings to totter this way and that, staring over Keef's shoulder at nothing at all while slowly, quietly whispering an odd bit of poetry in a rasping sing-songy voice.

"Just for joy, take from my palms
A little sun, a little honey,
Only kisses are left for us.
Furry, like small bees
That die when they leave the hive.

They rustle in transparent thickets of night,
Their home is the dense woods;
Their food -- time, honeysuckle, mint.

So take and enjoy my passionate gift,
A dry, unsightly necklace
Of dead bees, who changed honey into sun."

If not for the obvious severity of her infection, you'd be forgiven for assuming she was stark, raving mad, utterly drunk, or both.

The fleshbeast reacts unfavorably to being blasted by several different kinds of energy, and decides to go for the more direct offensive strategy known as "fistpunching all the things." Thus, two large, disgusting hands slam toward Maeve, and a third extends from its back to attack the winged figure.

[Attack (Maeve, Maeve, Cloaked Figure): 35, 32, 38]
[Damage (Maeve, Cloaked Figure): 30, 20]

The snowstorm summoned by the cloaked figure sizzles as it strikes the creature, and seems to be damaging him.

[Damage (Fleshbeast): 8]

If you had to guess, you'd assume the fleshbeast has quite a bit more fight left in him.

The winged figure cranes his helmeted head towards the PARTY in obvious surprise.

"You are perhaps the last people I ever expected to find down here," a familiar voice calls out. Maeve is suddenly joined by Shahara at her side as the charger diverts around the fleshbeast to join the fight after launching her rider. She whinnies at Maeve, stomping her hoof as she beckons her to climb into the saddle.

Zuriel's head is brought around sharply by Lillian's cries, and he immediately swoops away from the fleshbeast in a spinning corkscrew to attempt to avoid the creature's grasping arms. Its reflexes are faster than anticipated, however, and it manages to graze him as he shoots by.

[Damage: 14]

He flares his wings to arrest his dive, snowflakes eddying around his armor as he lands heavily before her. He puts a hand gently on her shoulder, wincing in sympathy at her wounds. "It's going to be okay," he says soothingly.

[Casting: Remove Disease]

White light flares up around the woman's wounds, and the festering immediately begins to fade and subside.

Maeve, unaware that Zuriel was ever dead in the first place, cannot properly appreciate the mind fuckery of seeing him alive again.  That'll be an interesting conversation to have later.

<DarkBlue>Oh good, he has wings now.  Something new to flutter dramatically.

Maeve obeys Shahara's unspoken command and hops astride the charger.

[Attack: 38]
[Damage: 25]

[Presumably mounting the horse counts as my move, so I did not roll for further hits.  Also if Shahara is up in the initiative--assuming she isn't going on Zuriel's turn--I do not know her moves and so will allow Zuriel to roll for them.]
This message was last edited by the player at 16:18, Fri 05 June 2015.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 165):

I... thanks Zuriel...  Keef mutters.  I don't know... what would have happened to her without you...

He moves his hands, and on one inner side of the wall of flame, a shimmering door of transluscent red wood appears.

You'll be safe here.  Wait until we come to get you.  Barnaby will see to you...

Keef helps/carries Lillian through the doorway and closes it soundly behind her.

Now back to work, he says, rolling up his sleeves.

(OOC:  went out of turn because I didn't think it would affect Boreas.  Also if Lillian refuses to go into the clubhouse I'll have to change my post.)

Boreas looks over, recognizing Zuriel as he flies over to help Lillian.

Welcome back.  I trust everything went well in the Heavens?

Casually, he looses an energy blast at the fleshbeast.

[Ranged Touch: 37]
[Crit? Immune]
[Damage 26]

Zuriel nods. "The Lady Love has awoken, and embraces this world in her light once again," he intones reverently, preparing to rejoin the melee now that Lillian was safe.

"Dawn has come."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:39, Tue 09 June 2015.

Yep, that's Zuriel alright.

You look different.  Is it the hair?

"Yes, I had them take half an inch off, I'm surprised you noticed," he replies, and for a moment the faint smile that tugged the corner of his mouth into a lopsided grin erased some of the deep weariness etched into his face.

Maeve readies herself for the next inevitable attack while her colleagues wittily banter.  Dicks.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 171):

With Lillian exiting combat and in the capable (if invisible) hands of Barnaby, the P.A.R.T.Y. has one less thing to worry about.

The big thing, however, yet remains.

The creature moans with all of its various skulls, bathing a chunk of the battlefield in acidic spray once more. Since Maeve continues to be the only reasonable target, she continues to take the brunt of the aggression.

[Reflex (Maeve, Shahara): 28, 19 (success)]
[Acidic Spray Damage (Maeve, Shahara): 12, 12]

The fleshbeast then lurches forward, swinging both enormous arms at the Gaelian warrior who has dared defy its will. Or lack thereof.

[Attack (Maeve): 36, 30]

Both blows connect with obvious power, and Maeve has to act quickly to remain astride her mount.

[Ride (Maeve): 18 (success)]
[Damage (Maeve): 34]

The snowstorm continues to sizzle as it strikes the creature, and seems to be damaging him.

[Damage (Fleshbeast): 8]

If you had to guess, you'd assume the fleshbeast has taken significant damage at this point.


This message was last edited by the GM at 13:39, Wed 10 June 2015.

Zuriel lifts off once again, taking up a position behind Maeve and Shahara. White energy arcs from Dawn to Maeve, healing all of her wounds.

[Lay on Hands: 98]

Shahara whinnies indignantly under the onslaught, but remains staunchly facing the monster, providing a stable platform for Maeve to launch her assault.

(OOC - She can move you where you need her to go, she just can't attack the same thing as you because of your reach)
This message was last edited by the player at 14:09, Wed 10 June 2015.

"It's ok, Shahara. It'll be over very soon. But I apologize in advance for the mess."

Courtesy of Keef's haste spell, Maeve slashes at the fleshbeast in a blur of steel.

[All attacks with PA -2 and haste mods]

[Attack 1: 41]
[Attack 2: 31]
[Attack 3: 15]
[Attack 4: 27]=immune to crits :(

[Total damage: 78]


With her final hit, the fleshbeast dissolves into a shower of bones and meat, dousing everyone in the splash zone.

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 174):

Keef at least takes solace in the fact that the shower of rotten chunks that strike him are at least cooked thanks to his circle of flames.

Once it's clear that the beast will rise no more, the flames sputter out.

Well THAT was great!
This message was last edited by the player at 15:47, Wed 10 June 2015.

In reply to Keef (msg # 175):

The "splash zone" includes Maeve, Zuriel, and Shahara, who find to their dismay that the chunks of disgusting flesh, bile, and gore are still mingled with acid.

[Reflex (Maeve, Zuriel, Shahara): 17, 15, 19 (success)]
[Death Explosion (Maeve, Zuriel, Shahara): 23, 23, 23]

A quick glance around the corpse-covered battlefield indicates that everything is still... for now.

~~ End Combat ~~
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:08, Wed 10 June 2015.

Zuriel lands next to Shahara, absently brushing away the bile as he takes off his helmet.

Without the helmet on, the PARTY is struck by how remarkably different he looks from the highborn who left Gaelia not so long ago. His skin, pale before, now had a strangely metallic hue, like brushed gold. His features were likewise altered, more angular and altogether alien. And while his eyes retained their amber color, there was a palpable weariness under them. Though his face was almost unnaturally smooth, his countenance appeared much, much older.

He still had the same nose though.

Wordlessly he set about healing the PARTY's wounds. As he steps to each member, he holds their gaze for just a few hearbeats longer than usual, studying their face as if scrutinizing an old aquaintance he hadn't seen in years.

Once their immediate wounds were healed, Zuriel nodded to Keef. "That woman you were traveling with, I would see to her wounds now. I want to make sure I purged the infection, and she still had some superficial gashes."

"Then we need to make sure there aren't any more of these things before we do anything else," he says tersely, gesturing to the mire around them.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:50, Wed 10 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 177):

Keef nods vigorously and leads Zuriel over to the translucent door, which he opens dramatically and allows Zuriel to enter the clubhouse and tend to Lilly.

Keef follows the Paladin in to see how things are going, offer cocoa, and show them where the more comfortable pillows are if needed.

In reply to Keef (msg # 178):

Zuriel and Keef disappear into the mansion, leaving Maeve and Boreas alone outside among the scattered corpses.

Inside

Lillian is initially nowhere to be found, but a quick search locates the unfortunate beekeeper. She has made her way to Chubbs' personal quagmire, and is rocking slowly back and forth on her knees at the edge of the murky waters while humming in a peculiar off-key manor.

Her back is toward you, and if she notices your approach she makes no acknowledgement of it.

Zuriel quietly takes a knee next to the woman, taking care not to startle her by approaching from behind. Despite the obvious wounds on her person, he could sense no pain, just an odd numbness. Concerning.

"How are you feeling, miss?" he asks quietly.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 180):

Lillian continues her off-key humming as the paladin sidles up beside her, but stops as soon as she is directly addressed.

Slowly, she turns her head toward him, revealing a face still streaked with the bloody path of her previous tears. The wound on her arm still shines with pus, but her skin has shrugged off the grey pallor that it suffered from before the spell.

Her eyes are distant, and seem to look through him rather than at him, and she smiles suddenly.

"I've sold honey, I've sold wax, and I've been stung -- no need to ask."

Lillian's gaze goes back to the quagmire, and she dips a finger into it deliberately. Ripples spread across the shallow puddles, and she turns back to Zuriel.

"Wet and sticky, but not sweet. Nothing here for me to eat."

She giggles and jumps to her feet, but pauses when she spots Keef.

"The badman," Lillian whispers in a comically loud voice, clearly intending for Zuriel to hear it.

She walks directly over to Keef and stretches out an index finger accusingly. If the boy doesn't move, she will poke him in the nose and leave her finger there afterward.

"I... saw you. Swimming, swimming in a river of honey and wax. The flower's pretty and smells so nice... but - OUCH!"

She jerks her finger away and shakes it, as though she'd been burned.

"Thorns and bees. The flower bites."

Zuriel exchanges a quick worried glance with Keef. Reaching into his pouch, he produces the chalice, which fortuitously escaped atomization, having been in Shahara's saddlebags with the majority of his personal effects.

The cup fills with a light mead, fragrant with the smells of honey and clover. He offers the drink to Lillian, and the air around them becomes redolent with the scents of sun-drenched meadows and the heat of midsummer.

"Here, this should help you feel a bit better," he says, reaching out with his other hand to clasp her reassuringly on the shoulder.

[Lay on Hands]

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 182):

Lillian drinks the mead mechanically, and her wounds vanish under the paladin's healing magics. The glassy, vacant look in her eyes remains, however, as do the unsightly stains from various bodily fluids on her face and arms.

She continues to try to drink from the chalice long after it is empty, not appearing to understand that the liquid has been consumed.

He gently takes the chalice back from the woman, stowing it in his pouch.

Not disease, and not injury. Something else is wrong here. He stretches and refolds his wings in frustration. Choso is in danger, we have to keep moving...

"I can probably help her, given time, but there's nothing else I can do for her right now. She's not in her right mind. She needs to be kept calm and hydrated until I can bring more powerful magics to bear."

Not for the first time, Zuriel found himself wishing he had been given leave to pursue more medical training in Hae'driel than the paltry battlefield medicine instruction paladins were normally allotted. Pushing the frustration from his mind, he focused on the task at hand.

Right now, Choso is more important.

Standing up and brushing himself off, Zuriel turns back towards the door to the outside world and steps through.

Once outside, he immediately takes wing, flying low over the marsh and the besieged city. To an observer, it would appear that the Celestial flew with no real purpose, but the look of intense concentration on Zuriel's face belied some method to his search pattern.

[Private to DM: Sensing for injured people in a search pattern around the city and its immediate surroundings.]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:36, Wed 10 June 2015.

Maeve watches as Zuriel emerges from the clubhouse and takes to the sky on his new wings.

Something's different, and it's not just those. 

Whistling for her griffon, Maeve mounts and follows Zuriel into the air.

"You're. . . .different.  Something happened--I'm not sure what and now probably isn't the time to discuss it, but we will at some point.  For now, where are you going and how can I help?"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 185):

Keef continues to tend to Lillian, offering her an array of cocoa, koffee, cocofee, koffoco, and cokaffococee.

As none of that seems to cheer her up, Keef leads her carefully to a pile of soft pillows and sits her down.  He brings her an array of books to read, then goes to sit at the threshold of his clubhouse with Chubbs napping on his lap.

He watches Maeve and Zuriel fly around the battlefield for a while.

Well.  What now?  He asks Boreas idly.

Zuriel nods in response to Maeve's observation, but doesn't elaborate further.

"Choso is missing. Word in Imbraer is that he lost a major battle, but nobody knew any more than that. I've tracked his army this far, and now..." He gestures to the sacked town as they circle the battlefield.

"I'm looking for survivors. Somebody who might be able to tell us what happened here, and if Choso is dead, captured, or fled."

Up close, Maeve notes that while Zuriel does indeed seem to be intently searching, his eyes seem to alternate between an unfocused, distant stare or closed altogether.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 187):

Zuriel flits up and down the battlefield, staying closer to the ground and bviously looking for something.

The celestial pauses when he reaches the section of the carnage that centers around the area where the village's main gate once stood, then dives to the ground to rummage among the rubble. His efforts are rewarded with a feeble cough, which emanates from a young solider about Keef's age dressed in Choso's regalia.

The boy's armor has been slashed asunder from his left shoulder to his right hip, but the oiled leather beneath the chain seems to have borne the brunt of the penetrating damage. More vexing is the broken shaft of a spear that seems to have entered his stomach on the left and crossed through to come out behind his right shoulder blade.

[Private to Zuriel: He is in a tremendous amount of pain, but only above the waist. Everything below it registers as null, even though you can plainly see terrible wounds below that point.]

Maeve, Boreas, and Keef survey the area from below, with a keen eye toward anything that seems to be moving more than a dead thing should.

After a great deal of time and effort, the group manages to identify only a single corpse that looks even vaguely familiar: the body of a large black panther, pierced by spears and arrows in a dozen places. The area around where it was found is filled with corpses that appear to have been horribly burned, frozen, and crushed by something more complicated than swords and arrows.

In fact, Boreas, Keef, and Maeve quickly realize that there is a trail of sorts to follow simply by noting how the soliders seem to have died. Those who were essentially melted, scorched, or frozen lead quite clearly through the battlefield, toward the ruined gate.

[Private to Maeve Hassan: To your eyes, this seems consistent with the movement of a defending force being pushed back toward their strongest defensive position time and time again. Whoever was casting those spells was being slowly but surely repulsed by the sheer numbers of Kazul's forces.]
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:23, Thu 11 June 2015.

Maeve sinks slowly to her knees beside the body of the panther.

". . . . .Fluffums?. . . . . . .but. . that can't be.  You and Cassie were safe in the Fey'driel."

The boy looked up at Zuriel, eyes clouded in pain. Zuriel knew without even moving him that the boy was paralyzed from the waist down. He suppressed an oath, unsure how much he could actually do for the poor lad.

By the Lady, I wish Selena was here...

He reaches out his hand to the boy's brow, palm glowing white. "You're safe now," he murmurs consolingly.

[Lay on Hands]

As his magics take effect, Zuriel grasps hold of the spear embedded in the boy, trying to see if it can be pulled out safely.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 190):

The dead panther holds no answers for Maeve's confusion, but she takes some solace in the knowledge that there are many dire panthers in the world, and that they all look somewhat similar to the human eye.

Zuriel's healing magics patch the boy's wounds up quickly, and he is able to remove the spear without much trouble. The solider coughs and sputters, and his eyes flick open in alarm and wonder.

"I'm... Where..." he says weakly, looking up at the celestial with apprehension. "Did I earn a place in the Heavens, sir?"

The boy frowns.

"I can't... I can't move."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:35, Thu 11 June 2015.

"You yet live," Zuriel replied, shaking his head. "The spear though..."

His heart wrenched as he watches the poor boy struggle to move his legs with increasing horror. Better to tell him now...

"The spear nearly severed your spine. Such a grievous injury is beyond my ability to heal completely. Your flesh is mended, and you are safe from infection, but...you will not walk again."

To the boy's credit, he managed to keep a handle on his rising panic far better than many grizzled veterans would have. His breathing quickened into rapid gasps, and his pulse became rapid, but he kept himself from going into shock.

"The war is over for you," Zuriel continued gently, "We will get you someplace safe, but right now we need your help. We came to aid your Lord Tyrant, but clearly we arrived too late. What happened here?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:01, Thu 11 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 192):

"I... what?"

The soldier looks around himself frantically.

"Surely a cleric could..."

He stops, sighs, and hangs his head.

"I'm Benjamin Portadown, sir. Corporal. My unit made its stand with the rest of Lord Choso's army here. In Harbuk."

Ben seems to notice the rubble for the first time, and his eyes widen.

"It... was more than this. If you'd seen it, you'd understand. Small village with a mighty wall, tall towers, directly situated on a three-pronged part of Drynn's Thoroughfare. It was perfect."

"The Reformer's plan involved a pincer that would crash upon the back ranks of Serpentsworn army even as they began to lay siege upon Harbuk," he continued. "The army gathered exactly like we were expecting, but... they moved faster than we thought. And they didn't have siege engines with them."

The boy's eyes fill with fear as the memories return to him.

"They had a dragon."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:22, Thu 11 June 2015.

A dragon?!

Zuriel's mouth went dry, and he licked his lips. The boy could have been delusional, of course, or it might have been a conjured illusion. The last dragon on Prime had been killed over eight hundred years ago. Still, with the planes spinning themselves apart, who was to say that a dragon wasn't outside the realm of possibility? He looked around at the charred remnants of the town. It would certainly explain the fire.

Mentally he reached out to Shahara, and felt her acknowledge his call and begin to move towards him.

"All the more reason to find Choso quickly. Do you have any idea what happened to him and his command staff? Or of his pincer forces? What is the last thing you remember of the battle?"

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 194):

"Lord Choso," the boy says, correcting Zuriel's familiarity gently, "was not in the vanguard at first, but toward the rear with the maps and such. Planning things. He had his command staff with him."

Ben frowns as he attempts to pull the memory to his mind after such a traumatic experience.

"I remember forming ranks behind the walls while the pincer was being set up to the east. The scouts were starting to panic because they couldn't locate the siege engines. Some thought that was good -- they'd been lost in the mire -- but others were afraid something worse was coming. And then it did."

"The dragon was enormous, sir. Its shadow fell upon the entire company when it flew. And then the fire... everything went up in a torrent of flames. We had to choose between burning to death behind the walls or leaving our fortifications behind to face the enemy in the field before we were ready."

"We chose the latter. It wasn't really an option to stay, anyway. At that point, Lord Choso rode past to get to the fore of the army, accompanied by the good Sir Cullen and the rest of his command staff. Morale was still high, despite the dragon, and then..."

He swallows audibly.

"Then the Serpentsworn charged. They crashed upon our ranks, heedless of the losses suffered as the dragon raked our lines pass after pass. Lord Choso was prepared, though. He had a Stormcaller with him, and she tore the heavens apart to rain fire and lightning down upon the beast."

Ben shakes his head sadly.

"It wasn't enough, though. We... we couldn't protect her for long enough for her to finish the job. Our lines broke and the sergeants ordered us to fall back. To try to put the city between us and the Serpentsworn army, and maybe reconnect with the pincer flank."

"That's when they unleashed their... their... I don't even know what to call them. They were like living beings of shadow, utterly black, and they could streak through your body like it wasn't even though. Their arms had dark blades affixed to them at either wrist, and anyone so pierced would soon find themselves without the strength to stand, let alone heft a sword or shield."

"When the dead started to rise under the influence of their thrice-damned clerics, though... that was the final blow to our morale. We broke, sir. We turned and ran for the swamp, and they cut us down as we fled."

"My unit held longer than most, though. Long enough to watch the Stormcaller's position become isolated and, eventually, overrun. I didn't see what happened next, but there was a terrible eruption of energy near that part of the battlefield, and then silence. I... I don't think she made it, sir."

Ben stares at his legs, willing them to move without success, and punches the wet ground weakly.

"I never made it to the rendezvous with the pincer flank, sir, but... that's where I'd expect Lord Choso to have gone. A few clicks to the east. And from there, north to Imbraer."
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:15, Fri 12 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 194):

Keef idles nearby, only partly listening to Ben's tale.

He kicks at some corpses and then finds a nice spot of relatively not-bloody mud.  There he uses Longshank to draw the symbol of Ka.  He erases it with his boot then starts again.

Chubbs hops onto the boy's now useless knee and perches precariously.  When the boy involuntarily swats at him he fixes the lad with a fierce glare.  When the boy gives up trying to remove the fat toad, Chubbs falls asleep.

Zuriel absorbed the information in silence for a few moments. "I came from Imbraer. I passed no army, remnant or otherwise. He's either in hiding, or taking an indirect route back."

The paladin was interrupted by the approach of Shahara, the mire making faint splashing sounds as it sucked at her hooves. Bending over, he lifted Ben and placed him in her saddle, lashing his legs to the saddle. "She will take you to safety for now. Get something to eat  and drink, but we will have to travel again soon."

With a whinny, Shahara turned and began heading back to the Clubhouse, taking care to make her gait as smooth as possible for her passenger.

Right then.

Zuriel fluttered back up into the air, intent on informing Maeve and Boreas of what he learned, and then investigating the site of Choso's last stand before heading east to try to track the Tyrant down.

[OOC Keef too, if he's there and not still at the Clubhouse]
This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Fri 12 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 197):

The P.A.R.T.Y. reconvenes and shares its information.

OOC: After comparing notes, you're free to move on in whatever direction you wish. While searching for clues, you were able to locate and pocket 3 magic rings, 2 magic amulets, 2 maps in scroll tubes, 1 magic wand, 1 magic staff, 1 magic shield, about $5,000 in assorted coins, and as many masterwork spears and shortswords as you can carry.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:39, Fri 12 June 2015.

"If this is Fluffums, then Cassie couldn't have been far away.  Can anybody tell if anyone of this damage was caused by a druid?  Magical manipulation of nature or such?"  If she was here, then she might be hurt or need our help."

[I have no idea if this is something you'd be able to determine via an arcana check.  But to be fair, Maeve would be equally clueless.]
This message was last edited by the player at 14:56, Fri 12 June 2015.

"I saw her," Zuriel replied, blinking. "It didn't make sense at the time, but when I was..." he swallowed, coming up short. "I think Cassie was here. If she's still alive, she'd either be captured or with Choso. Either way she's in trouble."

He beckoned Maeve aloft to survey the destruction from above. "The trail of magical destruction stretches from the gates of the city off to the east," he said, pointing at a swath of the city ruined by water, wind, lightning, and ice. "There's not really a way to tell which direction the battle was fought, but it fits in with Ben's narrative that we're looking at a fighting retreat, starting with the fall of the city gates and then moving east."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:19, Fri 12 June 2015.

Zuriel caught Maeve's eye, getting to her real question. "If she's out there, she's lost," he said, gesturing over the field of the dead. "There's nothing left for us here. I can't feel...everything here is dead. We don't have time to waste mourning the fallen, lest others share their fate." His eyes flick toward the panther's corpse for only a moment, then he shakes his head to clear it and refocuses on the horizon. "Those who yet live may be depending on us," he said, nodding towards the east.

"We need to gather the others and find Choso as quickly as possible. If he eluded the Serpentsworn trap, they will be hunting him."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:32, Fri 12 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 201):

Magical destruction, Keef repeats to himself several times.

Whatever he's musing on he doesn't elaborate.

In reply to Keef (msg # 202):

The P.A.R.T.Y. is unable to surmise more than they already have from the clues available. The magical destruction carved a path from east to west (or, perhaps, from west to east), in a line that connects the ruined gates and the outskirts of the swamp to the east.

Notably, there is no road in that direction, and the P.A.R.T.Y.'s membership currently consists of two invalids who will not be able to travel swiftly or easily.

OOC: Is everyone happy with "Zuriel"'s plan of striking out eastward in search of Choso, or do you want to do something else?

In reply to DM (msg # 203):

Keef shrugs at Zuriel's plan.

Why not?  Let's go!

Boreas goes along with the PARTY.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 205):

The P.A.R.T.Y. picks itself up and heads east, hopeful of finding positive information after a day spent wading through corpses less dead than they should be.

The path is often difficult, as there is no road to guide them through the swamp, and the mud squelches and sucks at the legs, paws, and hooves of all who trod upon it. Ben sleeps much of the way, while Lillian continues to hum in an off-pitch tone that makes no sense. Any questions posed to her are repeated, word for word, often with an accompanying annoying giggle.

Two days pass in much the same way, but just before evening on the third day, a deep and unsettling fog rolls in around them. It seems unnaturally thick, and soon obscures all but the closest things from view.

"It's dangerous to travel alone in the swamps of Drynn," a male voice says from beyond the fog. "Especially for those who fly no banner of allegiance to god or man. Are you traitors, foreigners, or loyalists?"

In reply to DM (msg # 206):

Loyal to some...

Keef tightens his grip on Longshank and puts himself between the voice and Lillian.

Traitors, foreigners, or loyalists? I suppose I've been each of those, at one time or another...

Aloud, he replied "We don't have time to bandy words.  We are friends of the Reformer, coming to render aid. If you are likewise his friends, lead us to him. If you are bandits, we are not worth your time."

Zuriel's shield thrummed golden white, and he stretched his wings under his cloak. "And if you are enemies of Lord Choso, then let's get on with the battle."

His eyes darted back to Ben and Lillian. "I just ask you to treat the invalids as the civilians they now are. Regardless of who you are, they are no threat to you."

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 208):

There is silence for a long moment, then the voice speaks again.

"The recklessness of your declaration aside, what makes you think I know where Lord Choso is? Or that I'd take you to him if I did? Can you prove your affiliation?"

"I'm afraid we left our monogrammed invitations to the war in our dress armor," Zuriel said with a faint smirk, "but the boy here is Lady Pellinor's apprentice. The rest of us are allies of Lord Choso from the Kazul Offensive. Rachel, Oliver, Cassie, and Sir Cully can all vouch for us. Tell them Boreas, Maeve, and...Zuriel...are here to help."

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 210):

Another pause follows this declaration, and then the voice speaks once more.

"Follow the lights."

Instantly, a faint reddish light can be seen from beyond the fog, heading northeast.

In reply to DM (msg # 211):

Oh, red!

Keef exclaims, perking up suddenly.

Good choice!

Keef gently nudges Lillian into motion and starts off following the light.

Under his breath he mutters what sounds to be a song of his own devising.  Only some words are intelligible:

...and with Ka we roam... nowhere sticks and stones call home... ever bright, all through night... we the fists of loam...

Zuriel nodded, and began to make his way towards the totally-not-ominous lights, trusting that he would have received a Sense Motive check if something was amiss.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:22, Tue 16 June 2015.

"Lillian mentioned something about Darris' "hound."  Let's follow, but keep an eye out for danger."

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 214):

The P.A.R.T.Y. follows the red light, as directed, though Maeve's warning keeps them cautious and mindful of where they are: lost in a Drynnian swamp.

Keef and Lillian go first, followed by Zuriel, Ben, and Maeve while Boreas takes the rearmost position. The ground squelches and sucks at their boots (and their steeds' legs, if applicable) as they travel, and the fog continues to blot out all visual sensations beyond arm's length behind a cloud of formless gray.

Keef, being first, is the first to notice something amiss as he advances: At one point, he finds himself entirely unable to extricate his foot from the mire. Since he doesn't learn this until he tried to move his rearmost foot, he finds his foremost foot equally stuck in the muck.

Before he can issue a warning, Shahara carries Lillian into the murk as well, and soon the celestial horse finds its foremost hooves equally trapped.

DANGER, she mentally notes to Zuriel, who translates quickly enough to prevent the paladin, Maeve, Ben, and Boreas from sharing their fate.

"Tut tut," the silky voice says from somewhere beyond the haze. "Don't delay or dilly-dally. You mustn't keep Lord Choso waiting. Trust me... follow the light."

"I always do," Zuriel quipped back.

Zuriel remaind grounded in the mire, electing to keep his wings under his cloak. "Strange reception for allies trying to help," he noted dryly. "As soon as the swamp releases us, we will continue."

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 216):

"That is most unfortunate," the voice replies. "For you see, the Lord Tyrant has gone underground. You must accept the swamp's embrace if you wish to see him."

Indeed, Keef and Shahara both seem to be sinking slowly into the swamp as though trapped in a particularly lazy pool of quicksand.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:45, Tue 16 June 2015.

Zuriel sighed, begrudgingly stepping forward until the swamp began to grab his boots. "So be it."

A staircase, he thought to himself, would have been nice.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 20:50, Tue 16 June 2015.

Maeve sighs and steps forward into the swamp.

"Why not?  Maybe the disgusting swamp water will help to wash away some of the disgusting remains of the flesh beast."

Boreas examines the swampy water for signs of magic.

[Casting Detect Magic]

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 220):

Chubbs snorts mockingly.

True, swamps never hurt a toad, Keef agrees.  He attempts to press on, though he does cast a look of concerned at Lillian.

Here, I'll help.

In reply to Keef (msg # 221):

Boreas detects no magic in the area around which Keef is stuck. He is thus forced to conclude that, if this is indeed a secret passage of some kind, it's either natural, alchemical, or mechanical in nature.

Keef, Zuriel, Maeve, Lillian, Shahara, and Sekhmet slowly sink into the swamp. If Boreas continues to watch, soon he will find himself alone in the fog.

"You're worried," the voice says. "As you should be. Drynn is a dangerous place, after all. If you do not wish to proceed, I will not prevent you from leaving. Your friends, however, are rather... committed."

In reply to DM (msg # 222):

Beneath the Swamp

The process by which the P.A.R.T.Y. found itself sucked down into the gaping maw of the mire is one best left to your imagination. Suffice it to say that the going wasn't pleasant, and that a hot shower would do everyone involved a world of good.

You find yourselves standing in a remarkably dry-looking cavern made of un-embellished grey stones that must have been brought here for the purpose -- the ground beneath the swamp is not nearly this solid until much further down.

There are two alcoves, one each to the west and to the east, from which a pale light emanates, while a hallway extends to the north. There is nothing to the south except a flat wall, and you appear to be alone.

Boreas steps into the swamp.

In reply to Boreas Highwind (msg # 224):

After a short delay, Boreas joins the others in the cavern.

Zuriel made sure that both Lillian and Ben were still situated on Stony and Shahara, respectively. Once Boreas joined them, Zuriel stepped forward down the hallway, stamping his feet to dislodge the worst of the muck.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 226):

Chubbs promptly wipes himself off on Zuriel's leg.

Maeve waits for her companions to discern the presence of magic (or lack thereof) before deciding upon a route.

As Zuriel stepped past the two alcoves, he noticed that the illumination came from glowing lichen covering the masonry. Etched into the stone in each alcove was a magic rune. Further down the corridor, the hallways dissolved into inky darkness.

Follow the lights... he recalled the voice in the mist saying. If she meant to harm us, we would have suffocated in the swamp.

He stepped onto one of the runes.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 229):

A colorful burst of mist sprays upward from the rune as Zuriel steps onto it, and when it fades he feels completely cleaned and refreshed -- the gunk of the swamp, the sweat of travel, the blood stains on his clothing are all just distant memories.

Shahara managed to maneuver herself onto one of them as Zuriel beckoned the others to make use of the magical cleansing. "Both  runes are the samee."

I wonder if we could get a portable version... He shot a quick glance over to Boreas. That would pay for itself in days.

Once his companions were clean (or not, should they choose to obstinantly remain unwashed) he set off further down the corridor, eyes picking out details in the stonework even in the pitch blackness.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 231):

After everyone in the P.A.R.T.Y. has had a chance to shower, the lights around the alcoves fade slightly and the hallway becomes lit with two lines of the same luminescent lichen that travel along the stones on either side at about ankle height.

The animals are forced to stoop in places, but eventually the hallway leads to a dead end. A large door resembling a web-covered vault blocks the way, as does a large male dryder. He folds his arms over his chest and stares down at you suspiciously.

"And where, pray tell, do you think you're going?" he says in a voice that's entirely unlike the silky one you heard before.

If Zuriel was surprised by the appearance of a Drider, he didn't show it. "To see the Reformer," he replied evenly. "I assume we are in the correct place?"

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 233):

The Drider glances at those gathered before him, clearly puzzled.

"Perhaps..." he says slowly. "Though you don't look like soldiers, citizens, or refugees. What business do you have with the Reformer? If it's intelligence, I warn you, it will need to be vetted."

In reply to DM (msg # 234):

"I'm Corporal Benjamin Portadown, 9th Division, sir," the crippled boy pipes up. "These people are allies."

In reply to DM (msg # 235):

The Drider scurries over to the wounded corporal to check his badge and insignia, grumbling all the while, but ultimately finds no cause to dispute the boy's claim.

"The 9th is thought to have fully perished," he says at last. "Your survival is remarkable, but welcome."

He turns and fiddles with the vault, which slides open far more quietly than you'd expect for such a ponderous door.

"Proceed directly to Debriefing. Do not deviate from the road."

Beyond the vault lies a spacious expanse of caverns that spread out before you like rolling hills. The path weaves this way and that among them. A large underground lake dominates the area, around which a variety of tents and structures have been built. All told, a population that must number in the thousands can be seen milling around below.

With Ben's help, the P.A.R.T.Y. navigates its way to the intended destination, a rough-hewn stone-wrought building in front of which another Drider stands watch. A quick conversation follows, after which the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself standing within the building, waiting for someone to fetch them for their audience.

In reply to DM (msg # 236):

"So... um... now that we're here," Ben says, breaking the silence. "Who ARE you people? Besides friends. You seem to know Lord Choso, but I've never seen you before."

"As I said before, we were allies of Lord Choso during the Kazul Offensive. You wouldn't have recognized us, as our involvement, officially speaking, never occurred. Perhaps someday the whole story can be told. But for now...for now we are just friends with a vested interest in seeing the Lord Tyrant unite all of Drynn under his banner."

"I'm sorry, Ben. But without permission from the Tyrant I can't really say more."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:34, Wed 17 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 238):

After a good half hour spent waiting, the P.A.R.T.Y. becomes aware of a loud conversation taking place outside the room, of which you can catch bits and pieces.

"Friends of the Tyrant," a female voice asks sarcastically. "Really? And you fell for it?"

A male voice responds, "I questioned it, as well, but the tale was corroborated by one of our soldiers, a boy from the 9th."

"The 9th was completely destroyed during the battle of -"

"Not completely," the male voice says, interrupting the female, "It would seem one survived."

The woman snorts. "How many sets of armor were left strewn upon the battlefield? He could be anyone. THEY could be anyone. I will see them myself."

"I'm not sure that's wise. Or safe, if you believe them to be a threat."

"How many times must I demonstrate my ability to take care of myself?" the woman's voice demands. "Stand aside. That's an order."

There is a tense pause, but the man ultimately relents with a sulky, "By our Lord's command."

The door swings open on creaky hinges, and an athletic human female strides in. She is dressed in chainmail and wears a tabbard adorned with the Lord Choso's crest along with the seals of command on either side that indicate that she speaks for the Tyrant.

"I don't have time for nonsense today, so let's cut to the -" she begins, before stopping short. "Gods... is that really you? Maeve? Boreas? KEEF?"

She glances expectantly at Ben, Lillian, and Zuriel, but does not seem to recognize them. Her expression betrays her disappointment, but she quickly moves on.

"It would seem we've suffered losses all around, then," she says simply. "But I forget myself. The Tyrant will certainly want to see you. Come -- dinner will be starting soon."

***

Soon, the P.A.R.T.Y. finds itself seated at a large table in a private room sharing a meal not unlike the one they enjoyed the last time they were in the Tyrant's presence. There are a few notable absences, however, as neither Lyriel, Lady Pellinore, Oliver, nor Cassie are present.

"It was a dragon, in truth," Sir Cully was saying, speaking around a mouthful of bread. "I've seen them before, but never so big. I wish I knew where they found it... and how to return it to the same place."

In reply to DM (msg # 239):

"We've focused long enough upon the past, Ravn," Morachiga says gently. "I would speak of the future."

He peers curiously at the P.A.R.T.Y.

"You can see for yourselves that the campaign is not going as well as could be hoped. I can only assume that your journeys have proven more fruitful. Where do we stand?"

He inclines his head toward Zuriel, Lillian, and Ben.

"And who are our new friends?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:03, Wed 17 June 2015.

Before being led to Choso by Rachel, Zuriel took Ben aside.  "Corporal, now that we're in some semblence of safety, I wanted to speak to you more fully about your impediment. In all honesty, you may indeed live the rest of  your life without your legs. The type of magic needed to repair such injuries is extremely rare, and extremely expensive," he said grimly to the boy. "But there is one I know who can and will heal you. If you can ever make it to Lo'driel, seek out Lady Selena, High Priestess of Ma'or. Tell her you know me, and she will restore you." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Hells, she'd do it even if you didn't know me."

He clasped the young man on the shoulder. "There is yet hope, Ben, but I did not want to give it to you falsely." With that, the paladin took his leave, following Rachel to the dinner with Choso

***

At the dinner, Zuriel looked around the table at his companions following Choso's question. He found it mildly amusing that nobody seemed to recognize him, though he wasn't surprised. When he looked in the mirror, he wasn't sure even he truly knew the man who stared back.

 When nobody spoke up, Zuriel cleared his throat. "Much of the story isn't mine to tell," he said, glancing to Keef, "but I will tell you my part."

"Ma'or has awoken, and turned her attention to healing this world." He rose, undoing the brooch of his cloak and allowed it to fall away. He stood before Choso, snowy wings folded behind him. "I was, am, and ever shall be Ma'or's First."

After a slight pause to allow the revelations to sink in (and if he were being entirely honest with himself, to allow a part of him to enjoy the dramatic tension of the moment), he continued. "I say this because it demonstrates how seriously the Lady Light takes your situation. My Lady has personally tasked me with aiding you, Lord Choso, and your fellow devotees of Cedrick. Your cause is too important to falter, your mission too critical to fail. We must see your banner flying over a united Drynn before the enemy's final pieces fall into place, or all is lost."

"To that end, you have all the assistance I can render."

"Zuriel" looked around the table, furrowing his brow. "What of our other allies? What of Lady Pellinore, Oliver, and Cassie?"

A lump of dread formed in the paladin's stomach as  he thought of the body of Fluffums.

[Private to Keef: You're going to know all of this IC prior to this point in the game]
This message was last edited by the player at 22:10, Wed 17 June 2015.

"About that First of Ma'or thing. . . .you still haven't explained entirely what happened there. I'm just as keen to know what happened to our allies as anyone, but maybe first you should tell us what happened to *you.*"

In reply to Maeve Hassan (msg # 242):

Yeah, is it like being the First of Ka?  Because... well pointers would help.

Keef looks down at his filthy robes and, apparently now for the first time, realizes he should have used the magical showers.

Do First... is there a uniform?

"Zuriel" turned to Maeve and Keef. "First is more than just a title. When each deity ascended to divinity, they selected a mortal who would be their right hand. The first mortal to wield the power of that deity, hence the name. This mortal was personally blessed by their god or goddess, and sent into the world to uphold their deity's will. The Firsts bore the burden of founding the faiths, and making sure that they reflected the ideals of their god."

"The Firsts of the Old Gods walked the earth over thirty thousand years ago, when the Five coalesced into existence from the emotions, thoughts, spirits, and dreams of the people who came before. You've already met Nikos, Cedrick's First. And I wouldn't be surprised if the gem that is now part of Boreas is somehow connected to the First of the Primal Voice."

He turned to Keef. "Don't worry, Keef. You've already done more good for the world as Ka's new First than his church has in the entire twenty thousand years before the Fall. And you are a vastly better man than his original First ever was."

"As for the uniforms..." "Zuriel's" lips held a lopsided grin, "one of the blessings of being a First is you get to pick the uniforms. Or indeed if there will be uniforms at all."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:55, Thu 18 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 244):

Rachel scrunches her eyes up as she looks at Zuriel, then cocks her head to one side before raising her eyebrows in recognition.

"Zuriel?!"

The tyrant merely smiles thoughtfully and nods at Sir Cully, whose gaze measures Zuriel, Keef, and Boreas in turn.

"The Primal Voice, Ka, and Ma'or have stirred, then," the knight says matter-of-factly. "And Cenadora never slept. But then, neither did Cedrik."

He pats the insignia on his tabbard gently.

"Not entirely, anyway."

In reply to DM (msg # 245):

"I am grateful for the interest your goddess has placed in my cause, but my plight is a political one," Lord Choso says easily. "My banner is not the same as that of our good friend Sir Cully's, for Cedrik cannot choose sides. Especially not so brazenly as all that."

Sir Cully nods in agreement, but says nothing, allowing the Tyrant to continue.

"What pieces are yet to fall into place, by your estimation? How might we stave them off?" he asks, nodding at Zuriel. "And what makes my cause so important now -- it hasn't changed, after all -- and how will a united Drynn be able to assist in the salvation of this world and all who inhabit it?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:46, Thu 18 June 2015.

"Zuriel..." he echoed Rachel, "...that name no longer feels like it fits fully. The highborn named Zuriel you knew is gone. Since I was reborn, he is a part of me now. Or perhaps it is more accurate to say, he was me, but couldn't remember..."

'Zuriel' shook his head, far-off look in his eyes. "I'm sorry, everything is still very hard to make sense of. His memories are jumbled up in mine...in the greater whole of all I've experienced..."

"To answer your question, Lord Choso, there is now no longer any such thing as a purely political plight. Vora stands behind the scenes, manipulating everything towards chaos, and the slow slide into oblivion. To check her here, we need a stable Drynn. A Drynn in balance. A Drynn united to commit to the final battle on the side of preserving the world, and a Drynn where Cedrick be called upon."

"Your cause isn't any more important now than it has always been. But for the first time in history since you leapt into the Sea of Cinders to escape Kazul all those year ago...you are in a position to bring your cause to fruition. And for the first time in ten thousand years, the gods of old have awoken, and favor you with their support."

He locked his gaze with Choso. "To that end, I came here with a contingent of some of our best Heartseekers, under the guise of mercenaries. They are in Imbraer, working under the command of your city governor to keep the city safe and minister to its people."

"But we cannot remain on the defensive. You have lost a battle, yes, but we will not allow you to lose the war. We will find your enemies, these unwitting pawns of Vora. If they cannot be made to see reason, if diplomacy has failed..." 'Zuriel's' face darkened dangerously, "then they will be struck aside. The life of ALL peoples depends on it."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:37, Thu 18 June 2015.

In reply to Zuriel (msg # 247):

...any uniform at all... Keef mutters.  ...the nude first of Ka...

Wait... REBORN?!

In reply to Keef (msg # 248):

"If Ma'or has awoken," Sir Cully says, his demeanor growing more serious, "then the heavens risk instability. Likewise with Ká and the Hells. The planes cannot support so many gods at one time. That's why the old gods were diminished in the first place."

He clears his throat meaningfully.

"It's possible that in striving to bring more strength to bear against Vora, we have unwittingly done her work for her. I will need to commune with Cedrik on this tonight and seek wisdom on the matter."

In reply to DM (msg # 249):

"Let's back up a moment," Rachel says thoughtfully. "We need to be on the same page here. You,"

She points at Zuriel.

"The First of Ma'or lived more than 30,000 years ago. Even celestials don't live that long, as I understand it. So tell me, 'Zuriel'... who are you really?"

"Himself, at least I think so," Maeve says, albeit hesitantly.  "Shahara was with him.  That horse is faithful, if nothing else.  I don't think she would willingly serve someone who wasn't Zuriel."

"Who am I?" 'Zuriel' echoed absently. "I'm still not entirely sure. I have been called many things, over many lives. Uriyah. Endrit the Shining Blade. Luken of the Dawn. Sir Alaric, the knight who would not fight. Harun, Light of Gaelia."

"Zuriel."

"I still don't remember everything of what I was. I doubt I ever will. But regardless of how I was known, when I lived...what land I called my home...I was always me."

The Celestial looked around the gathered room. "I am Auriel. Hand of Ma'or. When Her radiance first dawned all those millennia ago, it was I who brought her light and her love to the people of this world. I have witnessed the first sundering of this world. The birth of all the planes that were once one. I saw the Fall."

"And here, as we face Oblivion, I have returned to make sure all lights are not extinguished forever."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:21, Mon 22 June 2015.

". . . . . .right then.  Zuriel it is."

Auriel's lip twitched into a faint grin.

Despite Maeve's protestations to the contrary, he felt a sudden powerful change come over him. It was as if there was a fundamental shift in how his identity was recorded, in this and all worlds.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:26, Mon 22 June 2015.

In reply to Auriel (msg # 254):

Rachel blinks at the celestial for a moment, then turns to Boreas and Keef.

"Are you two also the reborn souls of random dead people from history?"

She grins slightly, but it's clear that the question is legitimate.

In reply to DM (msg # 255):

Keef blinks back, then pokes himself carefully in the elbow, knee, stomach and forehead.

Not that I know of.

He looks at Maeve.

But how would we know?