Under the curious and, by now, slightly hopeful eyes of many an inhabitant of Dimayen, Qvan transformed yet again into the magnificent shape of a mighty dragon with glittering golden scales. Unfurling his powerful wings, the wizard accepted Aryk, Vahid and Zhira as temporary passengers, then lifted off to fly north-west where the sun has vanished behind the horizon a short while ago. There was a general mumbling among the local population as they witnessed the group of strangers leave their home, many voices sounding bleak and grim. To them it seemed that the only people who actually made a difference in the short time they where in town and willingly helped to fight-off the Feast of Dust left them once more to fend for themselves.

About half an hour later Qvan's keen draconic eyes spotted something of interest. At the base of a dune some 1.300 feet to the right rested an overturned cart and a well-appointed palanquin. Brilliant orange-hued stems littered the ground around both, and lying in the sands nearby was the partially chewed body of a woman in extravagant garb. Some half a dozen other individuals were aimlessly wandering the area around the cart, all looking extremely desiccated and rather crazed in their behavior.

 Qvan was flying at a high speed, fairly low above the desert dunes. There generally was safety in altitude, especially at night, but the wizard was really not concerned with this — what night predator would think of attacking an adult Gold Dragon?

When he spotted the caravan, he slowed down just a bit and growled to the others, relatively comfortably nested on his back:
  “Something odd over there... I’ll fly over to take a look.”

He slowly tilted on his wing, taking a very wide berth to gradually come lower and closer.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:56, Thu 01 Oct 2020.

After a closer inspection from an advantageous aerial view, this seemed to have been a small saffron caravan consisting of only one cart and several guards on camels. After having already witnessed the devastating results of the Feast of Dust during their time in Dimayen, it wasn't difficult to conclude that some of the members of this caravan succumbed to the curse and started to tear into one another, including the female merchant who spearheaded it.

None of the animals survived the bloody and short-lived slaughter and there were more than just a few humanoid bodies lying in various pieces on the dark sands as well. Eight guards and some other travelers who had accompanied the caravan remained now, still lingering around the cart and palanquin, clearly crazy with unquenchable hunger. Their manic eyes rose up to the soaring dragon and they howled in rage and frustration, clawing at empty air in a futile attempt at reaching Qvan and his riders.

Zhira glared down at the remains of the merchant caravan with clear anger in her eyes. Her hand hovered toward the scimitar at her side, but then she let out a long, tired breath, and asked to the group, singling out somebody in particular:

"Should we try to capture them and bring them back to some place where they can be treated, put them out of their misery, or just ignore them?"

It didn't seemed like she had a particular preference, but it was clear the disaster that had befallen the merchants was affecting her to some extent.

Vahid gazed pityingly at the lost souls below, bringing his hand to his scimitar with a sigh, regret plain on his face. "We cannot leave them, lest some hapless travelers stumble upon them. Neither can we delay further by returning to Dimayen with them in tow. It saddens me, but we must end their suffering and prevent them from inflicting the same."

There was a low rumble from inside the dragon, as Qvan cleared his throat. He slowed down and the noise of the wind receded.
  "Those are our options Zhira, and neither seems very good..." he said slowly. Realising that communication was not that easy, he cast a simple spell to link the four adventurer by mental speech. Message

  "We cannot put them out of their misery. This is just what the city guards were instructed to do ––albeit clumsily–– and we nearly got into a fight with them over it," he explained in a murmur.

  "Leaving them does not seem much better, but we should factor in this: they will travel to the source of the Curse, that much we know. They will not head for Dimayen, and if they travel in a straight line across the dunes, they are unlikely to encounter travellers."

 "I suggest we get closer to see if anyone is safe and sane. If so we take them with us, and leave the others be... we can always come back for them tomorrow, and then follow them to the source. Who knows, they might meet us at Blood Rise Rock..."

 The gold dragon turned his head around to see his companions, looking for a consensus.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:23, Thu 01 Oct 2020.

Zhira nodded grimly, and said:

"I can jump down and act as bait while the others check the remains of the caravan, if you need me to. I should be able to keep them distracted for as long as needed."

Aryk smield sadly for a moment at the discussion.

"Are we sure that once they reach uncontrolled madness that they can be returned to their norm?  If not, I believe that putting them down would be a mercy, give their soul rest."

It did sadden him, but if their fate was to merely to wander the wastes for eternity even after the the curse was cleansed, then it would be just as Qvan had said.  Putting them out of their misery.

I'm aware that Rictor is waiting for us to wrap this up, so I'm going to make an executive decision.

 Qvan was flying low over the caravan. The sight was unpleasant, with survivors crazed by the Feast of Dust wandering aimlessly, and others dead in their midst. With his draconic senses enhanced with arcane sight, he scanned the area quickly.

  "No sane individuals left here... we know they can be cured if we destroy the source of the Curse. They have a smaller chance of survival than those in town, but they still have a chance. The best we can do for them is hurry in our endeavour."

 He looked at the hungry afflicted and added:
  "We can also help them keep the malady at bay for now... can someone supply them with water?"

 The draconic shape was well suited to spellcasting, and Qvan made the most of it. He quickly prepared a spell of conjuration, and created food to support them. A large basket of magical fruits and loafs of bread fell from the sky for them to eat.

  "The next hours are not going to be pleasant for them, but I think they would agree this ordeal is preferable to death. Even painless."

 As the crazed and famished survivors gathered around the summoned food, Qvan turned away and resumed his high speed overland flight towards Blood Rise Rock.

---

prepare Major Creation in open slot, and cast.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:57, Mon 05 Oct 2020.

Located in the winding, rocky canyon at the base of the Zho Mountains, Blood Rise Rock has been sacred to Lamashtan cults for centuries for the plague-bearing spring contained within. Over the eons, gnoll and human hands alike have carved the natural rock formation into an enormous likeness of Lamashtu’s swollen torso, creating a unique temple honoring the vile goddess.

Bood Rise Rock was visible from quite a distance away, even after dusk had fallen, mainly due to the many torches and campfires that were burning throughout the night. As Qvan flew closer, panicked screams could be heard and the dark shadows of fleeing humans were seen scattering in all directions away from the site. At the foot of the mighty rock a fierce battle was raging as the party arrived. Based on the distinct physical appearances of the two sides, the combatants seemed to be about 50 suli warriors-using their considerable power over the elements to wreak havoc among their opponents-and some 16 dark-skinned giants, wearing loose robes with keffiyehs over their traveling leathers, while using large curved blades to slice through the smaller foes with practiced ease.

 Even with his superior dragon eyes and ears, Qvan struggled to make out the details of the scene. Obviously a large scale battle was unfolding ahead of them, but they would have to get closer to find out more.

  "Something worrying ahead... a battle, involving magic and giants it seems," he murmured to the other using the message spell.
  "I know we said we would stop for the night before getting closer... but this calls for immediate action."

 He expected an acknowledgement from the others, and sped forward to get a better view of the scene.

---

Not sure how close we are, but Qvan will cast Haste one everyone and then use the "run" action to fly forward 600ft/round.
Are we going into Initiative mode?

OOC: Not really, no. I certainly don't plan to have a massive battle with some 70 participants in a round-by-round basis. We will narrate for now :)

Rictor finished preparing his trap and left a spell of alarm to notify him if it was sprung, then reached up with two fingers to send a keening whistle through the night sky. Not too many minutes later heavy wing beats filled the air and Alsebet glided in for a landing close to him. She tossed down a desert fox at his feet and then began to strut and preen, puffing out her wings and tossing her head.

Rictor rolled his eyes and scratched her down while he dressed the morsel and fed it to her.

"Diva." He accused affectionately.

Soon they were aloft and winging towards blood rise rock. He expected to overtake Qvan and the others quickly but the old wizard must have flown like the Inner Sea tradewinds were beneath his wings, because they didn't overtake the others until they were nearly at their destination.

As screams and sounds of conflict filled the air Rictor swooped close to the others and shouted over the roaring winds.

"I'm going in for a closer look!"

He leaned in over Alsebet's neck and whispered to her as she pinned her wings back into a deep dive, hurtling towards the melee at breakneck speeds. His mid raced.

They knew that the Oblivion Keys corrupted and twisted the spaces around them and attracted all manner of evil to their resting places. Sayid had also mentioned that the Shroud of Flies interred at Blood Rise Rock had attracted Lamashtan cultists who called the cursed location their home. Rictor truly had no idea what could be happening below but he thought it most likely that whoever was defending were cultists under the sway of the Shroud, and whoever was attacking was at least not affiliated with that particular knot of evil.

That didn't necessarily make them allies, they were most likely cronies of the Jackal Prince, but it could at least give some context to the battle below.

"Speed, sister, speed." He whispered to Alsebet as he rocketed closer.

---

Flying in and trying to scope out the battle. Key points to check out:

Do either the suli or the giants look like they're defending the rock?
Do I see anyone using non-elemental magic? I'm assuming the suli are doing their <element> bender thing, but do I see, like, skeletons or ray beams or anything?
Does either side seem to have a general or a leader?
Is either side accompanied by any non-giant or non-sulis? Does one side have a pack of jackals or demons or something assisting them?

Got a 48 on perception

OOC: Based on a quick aerial survey of the battlefield, Rictor gleaned the following details:

Neither group seems to be defending Blood Rise Rock, it is more a skirmish about who might gain access to it first.

No other spellcasters appears to be present among the two warring tribes, the only magic that is used is the innate elemental-based one of the many suli.

Both sides have a clear and easily-identifiable leader. A female desert giant called Sakargo in hide armor, wielding a steel shield and a scimitar on one side, and a female suli called Maralet in a steel lamellar, wielding two short spears on the other.

Neither group has other allies fighting alongside them, nor are their any other creatures at all in the vicinity, with the exception of the fleeing humanoids.

 Qvan sped forward and descended towards the battlefield. It was difficult to understand what was going on, but he offered his commentary in a low voice of rumbling thunder:
  "Giants battling Suli... potentially for the control of Blood Rise Rock?"

 He had not yet spotted the leaders on either side. The terrifying view of a Gold Dragon, with its characteristic V-shape wingspan, started to have an effect of the battlefield. This view generally inspired awe and instilled the fear of a ravaging apocalypse of fire among the soldiers. Even those who knew fire would cower before the furnace of a huge gold dragon fire breath...

 But the real danger came not from the righteous fire in this case, rather from the magic wielded by the wizard.

 With a few well honed gestures and a magical incantation bellowed from above, Qvan used a spell he had learnt from the famous Old Man Jatembe himself, when they briefly journeyed together some twenty years prior.

 Immediately, the seemingly arid and barren desert soil started to sprout twigs and herbs, which soon turned into gargantuan vines and trees, rendering the whole area overgrown, grappling with colossal strength all evildoers in an vast area over two-hundred feet across, bringing structures to the ground, but leaving non-evil creatures unharmed.

 With a bit of luck, the old wizard thought, no one would be inherently evil on the battlefield, and they would learn to proceed with even more caution...

---

Frightful presence to 180ft, will DC30 or shaken, or panicked if under 4HD (those with more than 18HD are immune)

Cast Jatembe's Ire: https://aonprd.com/SpellDispla...me=Jatembe%27s%20Ire

The violent conflict between the small army of suli and the few towering giants ceased almost immediately as soon as Qvan's magic takes hold of the area. Some combatants spotted the intimidating form of the gold dragon soaring closer at tremendous speed, but their shouts of warning were lost in the overall noise of clashing blades, exploding sand and the cries of the injured.

But, even if you are not aware of a dragon, its frightful presence was still strong enough to affect you, forcing your survival instinct to kick in and seek shelter from its devastating wrath. No member of the two tribes was panicking at the mighty roar that Qvan let loose as he sailed over their heads, speaking to their willpower and overall experience, but all seemed to be hesitating, unsure what this new development would mean.

Then, the sands burst open in a vast area, covering everyone in never-seen before greenery, making it hard to move, much less fight among the countless vines and trees. A second pass over the heads of the two groups confirmed the wizard's hopes. With the exception of a handful individuals on each side, his spell didn't attack anyone, including the two female leaders.

Zhira looked down at Qvan's display of power with appreciation, then asked to the group at large:

"Well, it seems like some reasonable compromise wouldn't be impossible to reach, if nothing else. Do any of you feel confident enough to have a talk with these people and see what's going on? I will admit, calming people down with words isn't really a specialty of mine."

Rictor swooped low on Alsbet, wracking his brain to remember the lessons that Qvan had taught him so long ago. He had never been a studious lad, finding any excuse to duck out of the old wizard's lessons to go climbing or exploring in the dunes around the academy, but when he did remember this particular spell the import made him draw reign sharply.

Alsbet pulled up with a reproachful squawk and tossed her head haughtily as the ranger patted her flank and guided her in for a landing.

He was in Zhira's boat, his training as a statesman had only lasted until he had been exiled as a child, but there was one simple expedient that ruled this particular moment. In order for any one else to talk sense into the warring bands a huge, terrifying dragon would have to land in their midst.

Rictor just happened to be the only one on his own mount.

He picked a spot between the two groups but within the circle of the spell. It was a slim hope, but if they recognized the spell just as he did then seeing its lack of effect on him may save his hide long enough to get a word or two out. He leapt from Alsbet's back and immediately sent her aloft to circle out of harm's way.

His hands stayed from his weapons, empty as he held them up in a placating gesture.

"Cease this petty conflict! I have come to treat with you!" He shouted, giving his voice as booming a quality as he could.

---

21 on diplomacy, for what it's worth.

Where before there had been the violent chaos of a large scale battle, was now the stunned silence of confusion and uncertainty. Both suli and desert giants were completely taken aback by the sudden appearance of grasping vines and towering trees, many of them having never seen that much lush vegetation in one place. Curios fingers grasped fresh leaves, wide eyes followed the still growing plants and shrubs up to the blue sky.

Some of the more cautious warriors of both tribes still held weapons at the ready, trying to keep the overgrown surroundings in view for any threats that might now lurk amid the underbrush. Others relaxed, noticing that the fighting had stopped and tried to figure out what was going on, talking with each other in hushed tones. The words 'Great Scarab' and 'holy savior' could be heard from the lips of several individuals. A few combatants with evil in their hearts still struggled against their new bonds, but allies already came rushing in to help them be free of nature's shackles.

As Rictor arrived and proclaimed his words, demanding an end to the strife, heads turned his way, everyone who was close enough to actually be able to see the prince through the new forest regarded him with a mix of suspicion and piqued interest. Eventually, the two leaders of each group had made their way through the greenery and flanked Rictor. Sakargo rested her gouged steel shield on the ground, leaning forward to look down on the man, Maralet thrusting both spears into the sand and crossing her arms while taking in the measure of the newcomer.

Almost simultaneously they asked, "And who might you be, stranger?"

Rictor bowed low, first to one, and then to the other.

"I am Rictor, sometimes called the Wrymbane. My companions and I have come from the south on an errand of some urgency. We seek a powerful and dangerous item held in the shrine here. A dark plague threatens the human towns to the south, but the nature of this malady cannot be contained by mortal hands. It will surely spread if it is not stopped, and will threaten all of Katapesh with destruction."

He looked between the two fierce warrior women, craning somewhat to meet Sakargo's eyes.

"I am a stranger here, and I know not the cause of your quarrel. But this threat must be faced by all of the people of Katapesh, lest all face a wasting death. An you love your land and your peoples, I charge you to let us pass."

 Qvan hope that at this point, his lack of ill intentions had become clear. Those along the warriors who recognised thee good dragon would tell the others that they are benevolent and usually peacemongers. With caution he come closer to the ground, and landed just a dozen feet from Rictor. To avoid confusing matters further, he decided against changing shape right now, in the darkness of the evening. Instead he let Aryk, Vahid, and Zhira dismount, and sat like a vigilant statue. Hands between his feet, wings propped up like two masts, long tail wrapped around him, and wizened head held high like a slightly unsettling beacon some fifteen feet above the ground.

He did not wish to steal the thunder when it came to diplomacy, so he simply said to the two leaders at once:
  “For the sake of all Life in our beautiful Meraz, listen to the man.”

His choice of word subtly furthered the notion that he was not human himself, suggesting that the prince had the backing of a huge gold dragon.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Fri 09 Oct 2020.

Both leaders glanced past Rictor at the golden dragon coming to a rest behind the ranger, as if backing him up with its impressive presence. As if they hadn't been already quite impressed with the powerful magic that had to be involved in creating this change in scenery, the obvious cooperation between the human and an old dragon was another reason to regard Rictor with respect.

Maralet was the first to speak, nodding at Qvan with a raised eyebrow, "Wyrmbane is your name, or title, but you travel with one of their kind? Sounds like a contradiction to me, but that might be a story for another time." She sighed and looked to west at her next words. "My name is Maralet, leader of the Stormrider tribe. We have already heard of this curse, slowly but surely afflicting our neighbor tribes in the past couple of weeks, even though we have been spared so far." She turned her attention back to Rictor, then jutted a thumb at the altar behind her. "We came here to seek the blessing of the Great Scarab, hoping it would keep us from becoming infected. But then we ran into these big oafs there," she grumbled with a flash of anger and a vicious look at the giant.

Sakargo scoffed at the insult, shaking her veiled head in disgust. "Bah, it is not you alone who is in need of assistance, little one. We require aid of the Great Scarab as well and his divine power cannot be wasted on your tribe!" She turned to Rictor and Qvan, bowed deeply and made a peaceful gesture. "I am called Sakargo, leader of the Spiral Winds. My people and I live near the ruins of Shadun and have suffered great losses by the increasingly aggressive gnoll tribe that has made it their lair. We have heard that the Great Scarab can cure those afflicted and has other powers at his disposal. Some even say he is a living god! We only come here to request his patronage in our ongoing conflict with the filthy creatures and hope that we can wipe them out with him on our side."

She briefly glanced back over her shoulder at the high platform where the altar stood, then shook her head. "But I have not heard of any 'powerful and dangerous item' at Blood Rise Rock." "And neither have I," Maralet interjected with a suspicious look. Sakargo held up one hand in a placating motion, "But maybe the Great Scarab knows what you are talking about. I would be willing to allow you, Rictor Wyrmbane, and your companions to accompany me up to the altar. As long as this one and her followers stay out of this!"

Maralet growled in rising fury and she grabbed both spears, ripping them out of the ground with a forceful motion. "Oh no you won't! Over my dead body! The Stormriders will be the only tribe to get an audience with the scarab! I don't care what you want to do here, Wyrmbane, but they will not reach the top of the rise!"

Zhira frowned at the discussion, then asked, sounding genuinely curious:

"Is there any particular reason why you can't both go, and ask for the blessing together?"

Aryk raised an eyebrow at their squabbling and had to smirk a little as Zhira cut right through their pigshit.

"Indeed.  Is it your belief, Honorable Maralet and Honorable Sakargo, that you have put the hopes of your tribes upon a being only powerful enough to aid one group?"

He of course kept his hand from his sword for the moment; especially as it wasn't necessarily required for him to defend to party if necessary.  That said, both factions, at least for the moment, seemed to bear no particular ill-will towards the group, mostly in part he guessed due to the 'dragon' lurking behind them.

---

Knowledge: Religion Check - 27 = 1d20 (16) + 11; as to the Great Scarab

While Maralet ignored Zhira's question, still up in arms about the giant's words and only barely containing her seething anger, Sakargo briefly inclined her head towards the other woman in formal greeting. "Based on the reports we have heard so far about the Great Scarab, he only grants his blessing to a selected few each day. Maybe it is because his power isn't limitless, or maybe not everyone is deserving of this honor, I cannot say."

Glancing back at the suli, Sakargo shook her head and said in a derisive tone, "Whatever the reason might be, I will not let what could be our only chance at survival slip through my fingers because I let her go first! If the Great Scarab is generous enough to also help them after agreeing to my request, then so be it. But I want assurances first, the lives of my people depend on it!"

Maralet gritted her teeth in an aggressive smile and got into a fighting stance. "My thoughts exactly, weakling! I will not be responsible for the destruction of my tribe through this curse, not if there is a way to safe them by being granted his blessing. Go and fight your own battles, you coward! Can't even take care of some measly gnolls...pathetic."

This in turn greatly angered the leader of the desert giants as well, and Sakargo lifted her heavy shield up from the ground once more and raised the blade...

Zhira quickly took a few steps forwards, moving with the swiftness of a desert wind as she always did, so she was in-between the two of them before conflict could start again.

"I think going together to hear from the holy man himself what the limitations are would be wiser; if truly only a small group can be treated daily, knowing the size of such a group should take precedence over deciding the order. After all, maybe the possibility of healing for today is already exhausted, or perhaps the healer would refuse service to those who shed blood on their doorstep. Gathering information first, and acting later, seems the best policy to me."

Then she grinned, placing a hand on the sword at her side, as she added:

"Of course, I always enjoy a good brawl, and I'd be really curious to see who would win out of the three of us; if you prefer that way of making a decision, I'd happily see to use it so you both agree with me. So if you start something, I'll gladly end it."

She paused, then added, turning toward Rictor and Qvan:

"Well, so long as my traveling companions agree, of course - I wouldn't want to assume I can decide on their behalf."

Qvan currently looks something like this:


 Qvan sat at the back, a silent and vigilant statue of gold. Despite the ambient darkness, his scales shimmered in the flickering light of torches and magical sources, even the faint moonlight reflecting on his wing spines pointed to the skies. He listened with intent, though his draconic pupils eyed the "Great Scarab" and the altar, wondering what exactly it was that lay up on the platform. Human? Djinn? Something else entirely? More importantly, he wondered if it was here due to the Oblivion Key, or a mere correlation without causation.

 Snapping out of his rêverie as Zhira made her proposal for a three-way battle royal to resolve the issue, his low rumble of a voice exploded:  "Listen to yourselves!"
  "Two tribes, both alike in dignity, both children of the Desert, in Blood Rise Rock where we lay our scene... you would rather kill each other than work together!" he scolded both captains, not sure if they were leaders in battle only or also the head of their respective tribes.

 "The Grim Reaper is resourceful enough, she needs not you wielding the scythe for her!" he lyrically quoted a bard of old.

 With a surprisingly calm composure, he looked the two women in turn, and proposed:
 "Chose an envoy to walk with one of us to the 'Great Scarab'. We seek not his blessing, but can be the arbiter of your feud."
 "And if after that, fight you must, spare the blood of your people. Designate your champions and let them to the fighting."

 With a casual nod to their favourite dervish, he added:
  "If this is the way... Lieutenant Al-Darea will he our champion."

---

Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 45 using 1d20+32.  diplomacy: make request
 https://www.d20pfsrd.com/skills/diplomacy/
 determining DC for diplomacy is complex, but 45 should get us somewhere, even if they were unfriendly to begin with.

 Also, who is this Great Scarab? I wasn't sure which lore/knowledge applied, so I rolled a few:
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 31 using 1d20+18.  Know History: Great Scarab.
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 39 using 1d20+34.  Know Planes: Great Scarab.
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 56 using 1d20+40.  Know Arcana: Great Scarab.
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 24 using 1d20+16.  Lore Politics Qadira: Great Scarab.
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 22 using 1d20+16.  Lore Meraz Desert: Great Scarab.

Rictor glanced between the two warrior women, the three warrior women in truth, and wondered if they had the time to spare for Zhira to give them a good thrashing. It might resolve the issue quikcly, in the space of a few moments. But win or lose, it might evaporate even the minor good will preventing the bloodbath from resuming.

All he could do was lend his assistance to Qvan in convincing them that fighting was not the way.

"Aye, accompany us, and we will see that you are both justly treated. I have an infallible method of determining who should visit the sage first, should his resources be limited, and if you will but step into the shrine with me I will make it available to you."

With a bow to the great golden form of Qvan and to both tribal leaders he brushed past them quickly, marching directly through the battle towards the shrine. It might restart hostilities at once, but Rictor's hope was to draw both leaders after him. Follow me or be left behind.

As soon as Zhira stepped between the two rivals to prevent them from reigniting the conflict, both hesitated, weapons raised and poised to finish the attack motion. They listened, eyes gleaming with battle lust, and both honestly considered her proposal of settling this argument in a three-way fight between them. But, judging by the clear lack of confidence in their expression, it was obvious that neither believed she could win. Maralet and Sakargo had earned a fair share of battle experience during their lifetime and both realized that Zhira was in a league of her own.

As Qvan then started to speak as well, chiding them for their reckless behavior, both lowered their weapons again and took a step back, turning in reverence to the dragon sitting close by, gaze lowered to the ground. After the short speech was over, they continued to study the sands at their feet for several moments longer, pondering his wise words. Eventually, both raised their heads once more, faced each other and each gave a curt nod in agreement. "I choose myself, Maralet, leader of the Stormriders to be the champion of our tribe," the suli proclaimed loudly, one spear raised high over her head. Cheers rang out from all around, answering this choice.

With a sneer, the desert giant responded in kind, "And I choose myself, Sakargo, leader of the Spiral Winds to be the champion of our tribe!" She didn't shout as her rival did, but uttered the words with confidence and loud enough for the closer giants to witness. She then gave Qvan a hard look as she said, "I am glad to hear that you haven't come for a blessing as well, otherwise we might had to fight you as well, dragon. Go on then, lead us up to the altar so that we may speak with the divine one!"

As Rictor briskly walked past the three women, both Maralet and Sakargo were briefly taken aback at the somewhat confusing change of leadership of the newly arrived party, but quickly followed the prince up the stone steps. Built atop a rocky outcropping carved into the belly, bosom, and torso of the enormous pregnant figure representing Lamashtu, the altar and brazier of this shrine showed untold years of erosion and dark stains. In front of the rock wall behind the altar stood three human men, armored in dark horn lamellar and wielding a gleaming short sword at their side, arms crossed over their chest. As Rictor climbed the stairs to the top, one of them raised a hand in a gesture for him to stop and said in a clear, demanding voice, "Return at dawn, seeker! The Great Scarab will return then and hear your pleas."

As they arose through the stairs circling that twisted edifice Rictor suppressed a shudder. The warrior tribes would find no blessings here, only curses incubated in the womb of the Mother of Monsters. He hoped that they would see reason, that he would have a chance to counsel them to abandon their quest.

And yet, his own errand was too urgent to risk its success by diverting attention to the warring tribes. They must obtain a way to seal the Jackal Prince, or be lost with the rest of Katapesh.

He stopped short when confronted by the guardians. Sayid had warned them of the Lamashtan cultists infesting the Rock. Rictor's hand strayed towards his sword but he fought down the surge of anger that welled in him at being stymied. If he was seen to attack the tainted oracle that the tribeswomen had come to contact then he and his companions could have a three way battle on their hands, caught between the cultists and the supplicants.

Instead he wracked his brain for what they knew of the Rock itself. Only that the Shroud of Flies was said to be interred here, and that it had attracted Lamashtan cultists. Was this Great Scarab the high priest of their order? Was he a scion of the daemon trapped in the Shroud? Did he commune with it? Or were the cultists attracted to the well of dark power only, unaware of the nature of their relic?

If they were unaware then they would have to penetrate the cult's layers of protection, by supplication or by the sword. But if they did know the nature of the being that they served then perhaps a faster route to the goal was available.

Rictor chose his words carefully, couching them so that if the three guardians were initiated to the secrets of Blood Rise Rock they would understand that Rictor's party had information that their master would desire, but if they were not his words would simply be cryptic, without revealing his hand.

"We are not supplicants, come to beg a boon from the Great Scarab. We have come to grant the Great Scarab a boon in turn, if he can offer something of equal value to my master." He turned with a deep bow and indicated the massive, golden form of Qvan.

"We have word of an ancient enemy of the Shroud, a hungry Prince whose touch even now begins to eclipse the power of your patron."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:54, Mon 12 Oct 2020.

The three men reacted quite differently to Rictor's words. One looked rather startled and uncertain what to make of this offer, another grumbled in return and took half a step towards the ranger with a suspicious expression, while the last simply raised one eyebrow at this surprising turn of events. After a long moment, all three shared a glance, with shrugs and shakes of the head as the only result.

Finally, one guard, hand stroking his bristling black beard, addressed Rictor directly. "So you mean to say that you are a servant of the Ravenous Prince, yes, stranger? Indeed?" He chuckled amused, then frowned as his mood quickly darkened, pointing at the magnificent form of the golden dragon. "I saw you down there. Consorting with metallic dragons, are we? Not something I would have expected from a faithful servant of Him."

As one all three men drew their swords and got into a fighting stance, shielding their backs against the rock wall, forming a semi-circle against these potential enemies. "Now, no more lies! You best tell us what you want here, or things will get ugly," the speaker rumbled in an angry voice, though clearly not as confident of their fighting chances as his words made it out to be.

At this, both Maralet and Sakargo stepped forward, hands reached out to stop any immediate confrontation. The desert giant even went as far as to sink on her knees and lower her head deferentially. "Please, do not see us as allies of those strangers. We have come here to ask the favor of the Great Scarab, nothing else. If this means we need to wait until dawn, so be it. But don't let our plight be answered with silence or denial simply because we stand here alongside this man."

The suli nodded, though she didn't debase herself by kneeling. "Indeed, listen to the tall one. Even though I find the thought abhorrent to wait several hours more while being so close to this coward, if this is what it takes to get an audience with the Scarab, then I will have to agree." She then turned to Rictor and give him an angry glare, hissing, "You better not make trouble here, Wyrmbane. I might respect your prowess and that of your companions, but I will go to extrem lengths to save my people from this curse. Do not lessen our chances with this foolish babbling!"

 Qvan trusted that Aryk and Vahid were capable enough to do some crowd control, if it were to become needed. He thus kept his attention on what was happening high up on the altar. He listened intently, and used the message spell to contact Rictor.
  "That Great Scarab has to be a charlatan, and somehow linked to the Curse. Three months ago he did not exist as far as I know, and I know enough."

 From down below, the magician in dragon shape could not do much to progress the conversation, and kept a vigilant guard.
  "If help is needed, say so and I will bring us to you."

 He made sure to keep his three companions with his long arms' reach.

---

Perception 47, with Darkvision and Arcane Sight to 120ft, Blindsense to 60ft
This message was last edited by the player at 20:00, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

Rictor heard the words that Qvan whispered in his ear. A charlatan? His mind churned, working through possibilities.

Had the Jackal Prince exerted his power here, at Blood Rise Rock? Possibly in an attempt to cut off his rival Oblivion Lord?

Or was the daemon imprisoned in the Shroud of Flies breaking free of his prison as well, and manifesting as the Scarab?

He eyed the three as they bared steel. Was their hostile reaction because he intimated he might be a servant of the Jackal? Or did his arrival with Qvan's monstrous form engender suspicion because they were servants of the Jackal and suspected that he wasn't?

Either way, he had the sinking suspicion that they would leave him no choice but to cut his way through them.

Rictor wasn't above dissembling to accomplish his aim, if the cause was just. But the taste of lies was like bile in the back of his throat. Who controlled Blood Rise Rock? Rictor didn't know. But as he drew his bow and held it high he formed his answer, not on the chance that it was the correct response that would grant him access to the shrine, but because it was a rejection of lies, the pure and simple truth.

"I am no servant of the Jackal Prince! The scurrilous dog is my prey. He reaches out his hand to infect this land with a vile disease, and for the safety of Katapesh I will see my arrows sink deep into his heart.

Declare yourselves! If you are allies of the Lord of Dust then you will taste my steel. If you are not then bar my way no longer, and take me to your lord."

Aryk followed Rictor up, steeling his face to serve as a implied muscle for Rictor with his pronouncement.  That peace didn't last long through, as Rictor seemed to slide from honey to vinegar as the situation required.  Hopefully.  Aryk's hand had lurked near his pommel for several minutes now, and as Rictor pulled his bow, Aryk did likewise, his blade seeming to jump into his hand from his scabbard, his face hardening as his hand began to glow softly.

The most immediate threat was to his front, so he could not spare a glance to check if his party were preparing to hold off the other two factions, but he hoped he wouldn't be attacked from the rear if this escalated further.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:28, Tue 13 Oct 2020.

Rictor had made his decision, hoping that declaring to stand against the Jackal Prince of Famine would be the right choice here. Unfortunately, the immediate flash of righteous anger in the faces of the three men told him otherwise. Without hesitation and with a bellowing cry to the honor of Trelmarixian, the Black, they rushed forward to engage the ranger with divine power and sharp steel.

Maralet and Sakargo froze at this sudden turn of events, looking between the aggressive cultists and Prince Wyrmbane, uncertain if they should side with the attackers, the sole defender, or maybe rather stay out of this conflict. On one hand, it seemed as if these three were speaking for the Great Scarab and stood watch over the altar in his name. On the other, their dedication to this Horseman of Famine was certainly not what they expected and cast doubt about their actions. This gave Rictor several precious seconds to deal with the onrushing fools.

---

So, seeing as those three men are mighty warriors of level 9, I do not think we need to actually play through the fight. Rictor, you are free to narrate how you would like to take care of them.

 Qvan took note of the commotion – which he fully expected to be resolved in a matter of instants. Nevertheless, he would not leave Prince Wyrmbane without support. Seeing as Aryk was already on the stairs, catching up with the prince, he was left with only Zhira and Vahid near at hand. All the better.

  "We're going up..." he indicated to them both, and with nothing more of a warning, he grabbed them –one in each of his massive claws– and took flight. With just three powerful strokes of his sail-like wings, he was airborne and rose in front of the altar, dropping the two adventurers on either side of the platform, at the top of the stairs.

 He did not use spells or fire breath. The draconic thunder that was his voice boomed behind Maralet and Sakargo:
  "Children of the Desert! Act wisely now."

---

Pickup + Move
 Intimidate 33 if relevant

Zhira was surprised for a moment at being carried by the draconic form of Qvan, but she landed easily once he let go, as if she practiced falling from ledges for fun, and looked at the developing situation with a hand on her scimitar, ready to offer Rictor any help that might be required.

Aryk, a few steps behind Rictor, surged forward and used his empty, glowing hand to grab the nearest guard by the head.  Everything beneath his hand; helmet, flesh, bone disappeared suddenly & cleanly, as if they had never been there, leaving the partially decapitated man to fall to the ground.

An unfortunate turn of events, but not an unexpected one. Rictor loosed at the lead watcher, and sent an arrow thundering into his eye. He collapsed and in the tumble the man behind him hesitated just for a fraction of a second. Rictor took him in the throat. The last man let loose a cry for Trelmarixian, already closing the distance on the archer prince. Rictor turned in one fluid motion, stepped under his guard, his sword leaping to his hands as he slashed upwards. Rictor stood with a jerky motion and the cultist's momentum sent him tumbling over the edge, hurtling towards the ground below in a shower of his own blood.

Instantly Rictor was on the alert, but when it appeared that the tribeswomen had no intention to join in the attack he stood grimly. He cleaned his sword and sheathed it.

Qvan landed behind him.

"The way is clear." Was all that Rictor said. Killing men gave him no joy, and it was with a stony countenance that he marched towards the altar. He made no invitation for Maralet and Sakargo to join him, although he also made no motion to dissuade them if they wished it.

---

Is there a door or a tunnel behind the altar? Or, like, a big sign that says 'this way to the Great Scarab'? Anything cool on the altar?

The jagged rock wall behind the altar presented no opening to the untrained eye, but Qvan quickly discovered that a moderately-powerful illusion spell was in place thanks to his Arcane Sight. A closer look at the indicated area revealed this to be a cleverly placed Illusory Wall that hid a large tunnel entrance into the hill beyond. The altar itself did not have anything on it other than buckets worth of dried blood and other remnants of physical body parts.

Maralet and Sakargo were both enraged by the sudden killing of what seemed to have been faithful servants of the Great Scarab, but the arrival and looming presence of the gold dragon stayed their hand for now. Cringing at the possibility of seeing their chances of help by the Scarab dwindle more and more by the second, they still were unwilling to come to blows with these strangers. Both looked down from Blood Rise Rock over the vast area where Qvan's spell was still in effect, glanced back at the towering form of the dragon, and finally at the bloody remains of the three cultists who were so easily dispatched mere moments ago. Sharing a look between each other, and coming to an understanding, both stepped back away from the party.

Maralet sheathed her two spears and took position next to the altar, leaning against a rock outcropping. "We will leave you to whatever business you have come here for. Do what you must." Sakargo nodded curtly as she took the spot on the other side of the altar, her expression unreadable behind the veil, but her blue eyes were filled with desperation. "Indeed. We will wait for you to return. Whatever will be, will be. Go on."

Zhira looked at the two other women, then commented:

"The Jackal Prince Rictor named is a very evil entity; you should consider what it means, that somebody attacked him merely for stating he is the enemy of such a creature."

Then, waiting for no answer, she moved through the illusionary wall, taking point unless one of the others asked her to do otherwise.

Rictor followed after Zhira as she forged ahead into the tunnel, senses alert and an arrow nocked. If the actions of the cultists above were any indication they had every reason to expect an ambush.

He was doubly glad for Qvan's presence, and his ability to penetrate illusions and magical barriers. He voiced his thanks as they continued deeper into the shrine.

The cheiftains concerned him somewhat, but for now that fire seemed to be on a simmer. If they acted with justice hopefully they wouldn't come to blows. He prayed that they could be made to see the dark presence occupying the Rock.

Qvan had noticed the illusory wall instantly, but that did not mean he could see right through it. Hence the move to let others go first, scout out the dangers beyond, and let him close the march.

Still in dragon shape, he stood on the ledge and spoke to the matriarchs:
“This Great Scarab you seek... I am positive he is not who he pretends to be. If his blessing had any power to save you, I will wager it is because he was responsible for your trouble in the first place. We will put an end to it. You are equipped for war... there may be a time very soon when your skills at arms will be needed. The Curse did not appear by itself. The servants of the Prince of Famine will need to be dispatched soon... the Desert will bring favourable winds to its true children. I am sure to will know what to do when the time comes.”


He was going into the wall, but turned around for a last word of wisdom:
“Those of your tribes who were entangled by my spell... I would keep an eye on them. I learnt that spell from the Old Man Jatembe, and it only attacks those impure of hearts. Talk to them, they may be ripe for redemption.”

With a grin, he disappeared into the wall, helping his massive bulk through by crawling on both sides of the wall. His wings were still a major encumbrance, and scraped the natural rock ceiling, so he quickly changed to a more comfortable shape.

The others felt a wave of heat behind them, but soon recognised the old mage— except he was eight foot tall, made of living flames and semi-translucent. His flickering orange body cast light  and shadows in all directions, but his crisp grey eyes still looked dark, with a blueish hue.
  “I double up as a lantern, this way. This is not a stealth infiltration, is it?”

He was glad that Zhira took point and happy to close the march. The other benefit of this fiery form was that none would be able to hit his vital organs, as he was pure elemental flame down to the bone, gut, and heart. And it kept him warm, which after the long flight was a pleasant boon.

---

Large Fire Elemental

Zhira chuckled at Qvan's question, then answered:

"It could be easily be, if we had a mind to make it so; taking enemies by surprise is an art I mastered long ago. But right now, I don't see what benefit there could be to hiding; if whoever is inside had no interest in a battle taking place at their doorsteps, then no amount of ruckus is going to be drawing their attention."

OOC: Not sure if it's required, but in any case, here's a perception roll.

23:36, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 27 using 1d20+23.  Perception.

A short tunnel lead into a large area beyond the illusory wall. Many hands had worked this natural cavern over the years, digging out shelves and niches, carving lewd pictures into the sandstone walls, and constructing an enormous statue of a pregnant, jackal-headed woman that occupied the southern side of the room. To the south, behind the statue, were a couple of sandy steps leading to a pool filled with crystal-clear water.

Four more cultists, similarly dressed as the once guarding the entrance, lounged in the cavern. One was lying on the ground resting, two were playing cards in the flickering light of a candle at a small wooden table, the last one was busy eating what looked like foul, raw meat.

Two more creatures were visible as you entered, just coming out of the pool, the skin on these frog-like fiends was still wet and dripping water, their eyes looked dead and milky; the wide faces split by a fanged maw.

As Zhira assumed, none of these dwellers in the cavern seemed to be overly concerned about the large-scale battle that had been fought at the foot of Blood Rise Rock not 10 minutes ago. All looked rather shocked and surprised as the party arrived, illuminated by the bright-glowing form of Qvan's new shape.

---

Those would be Hydrodaemons. Like the cultists, posing no threat to your party at all.

"Agreed." Aryk said as he slipped through the illusion.
"Anyone lurking within would be well aware of the groups gathered outside.  Hopefully they will not be another force to fight once we finish our work in here."

He hustled with the others, his sword now out, the strange, crystalline composition of it reassuring in his hand.  And then suddenly they rounded a corner and were face to face with cultists.  Aryk didn't move.  Instead his mind made physical shards of his will, thin, razor-edged shards of crystal materializing and flying at the snacking cultist, stabbing into him as his teeth stabbed into the meat, his body falling to the floor as the blades continued their work until he was assuredly no threat.

 At the end of a long day, clearly past his usual bedtime, and weary of a two-hour flight, Qvan had no patience for minions. It was perhaps a surprising slice of his personality, but to those who knew him well, this made perfect sense. Students at the academy knew not to tickle him after dinner, lest they spend the night as toad waiting for a spell to wear off...

 His current shape of pure living flames blossomed into the shape of a Gold Dragon he had worn just instants before. He stepped forward and engulfed the whole area in an apocalypse of bright golden flames, roasting cultists, daemons, and statue alike.

 This display left the locals burnt, shaken, and probably questioning of their career path – but mostly it left them ripe to be either executed or subdued by his martially inclined companions.

 The wanton performance was also a test – Qvan kept his eyes open and observed the grotesque statue with interest as the flames covered it.

---

Free: Huge Gold Dragon
Move and Breath weapon for 51 fire damage (ref DC30 for half) just scathing everyone a little bit before you jump in :)
 Perception 46
This message was last edited by the player at 18:21, Fri 16 Oct 2020.

While Aryk quickly and efficiently took care of the feasting cultist in the back of the dark cavern, the dragon's fiery breath washed over the rest of the area, engulfing both the other three men and the two daemons. While none were quick enough to duck out of the way of the incoming flames, all survived the tremendous blast.

Howling in pain and surprise, the cultists of the Horseman of Famine scrambled to their feet, intoning divine prayers to heal their wounds and bolster their combat prowess. They shouted warnings about intruders to some more unseen inhabitants of the caves before engaging the assailants in earnest.

The two hydrodaemon shook themselves in revulsion and agony as the hated fire burned their leathery skin, but their fiendish heritage granted them some minor resistance to it and the emerged still capable of defending their lair. One summoned another of their ilk to strengthen their numbers, while the other closed the distance to the golden dragon and spit a poisonous fluid at Qvan in a futile attempt to put him to sleep.

---

Narrating the action of Qvan and the reaction of the enemies for the fun of it, but once Zhira and Rictor get their 'turn', most of your opponents will be done for I reckon.

OOC: would it require any particular effort to take the human cultists alive? That'd be my preference for what I'd want Zhira to do, but with this not being really a fight where we can roll for the result, I wouldn't want to assume without confirmation.

This message was last edited by the player at 12:48, Sat 17 Oct 2020.

OOC: No trouble whatsoever. They might struggle, naturally, but seeing as they are half your level there is really nothing they can do to stop you from capturing them.

Another thing to note, which I forgot to mention in my post, is that the statue of Lamashtu did not 'respond' in any way. There is no magical aura around it as well, so seems to be merely a stone object.

Between Aryk's flashing blade and the blazing gouts of fire Qvan was bathing the chamber in the cultists stood little chance. They didn't seem to need the assistance, but at Zhira's suggestion he moved forward swiftly.

One of the robed cultists was circling around towards Aryk's blind spot and Rictor was at his elbow in a trice. He seized the man by the scruff of his neck, yanking his hood off in the process, and although the maneuver left him open to a blow he soon had him on the ground, his knee between the cultist's shoulder blades, binding his hands with a strip cut out of his robe.

A blazing torrent of fire passed to his left close enough to heat his armor, and Rictor cast a baleful glance at Qvan. One look made him think better of mentioning it though, so he simply dragged the struggling cultist to a little hollow by the entrance and sat on him.

Seeing as Rictor had taken upon himself to capture the cultists, Zhira shrugged and jumped in the middle of the hydrodaemons, smashing them into one another and circling around, darting in to wound and keep smashing them into each other before darting away and outside of their range, taking advantage of their reckless charges to slam them back into one another to repeat the process until she finished getting rid of them.

Everything was over in a couple of seconds. Moments after the flames of Qvan's breath had swept through the cavern, casting dancing shadows of its inhabitants on the rough rock walls, was Zhira already next to the trio of startled daemons and begun her deadly attack pattern. Aryk remained at the tunnel entrance, concentrating a few seconds more on finishing off his target thanks to his lethal psionic powers and Rictor subdued another cultist with practiced ease, pinning the hapless man on the ground for further interrogation.

In the end, the three fiends uttered one last regretful croak before succumbing to Zhira's relentless blade, slumping to the blood-splattered ground with a wet noise. Rictor's captive continued to utter vile curses and dire threats at anyone who would care to listen while feebly trying to get himself free from the knight's grip.

---

Your call what you want to do with the remaining two cultists. If you want more people to question we can simply assume that you have also captured them alongside the other one.

 Qvan remained in dragon form, and simply uttered apparently to no one but the room — or perhaps the statue?
  "I see we have your attention! Come over here and we can discuss the terms of our visit. No one else needs to leave this world, though many still could..."

 He turned his big golden eyes to his companions, and added: "Someone is watching and listening."

---

starting to wonder if Sayid's son is the so-called Great Scarab
This message was last edited by the player at 00:28, Tue 20 Oct 2020.

Aryk's blades slammed into & through the cultist one more time then just simply disappeared, the blood what had been sprayed upon them falling to the ground with a splat.  It was at that moment Rictor acted, taking down the cultist Aryk hadn't seen, and the psion gave the prince a slight smirk & a nod of thanks.

"Well, if we are being observed, they know that we mean business then." Aryk said simply.

As in response to Qvan's challenge and Aryk's statement, a booming voice suddenly echoed through the cavern, seemingly coming from the statue of Lamashtu in the south.

"Indeed, it seems we have attracted the attention of several quite powerful individuals. Tell us, what is your business here with the Great Scarab? Have you come to challenge the divine? If that is the case, I should warn you, mortals, do not overestimate your capabilities! You might feel emboldened by dispatching those lowly servants so quickly, but do not expect the Great Scarab do be as easy of an opponent! As gracious of a new god as we are, we will not take affront at this intrusion and let you leave again unharmed. But do not presume to know what you are dealing with here!"

 Qvan was surprised the voice came from the statue, he had imagined the master of this place would have revealed themselves at this point. He recognised a simple illusion when he saw one, or in this case heard one.

 The magician let the others decide what to do with the cultist they had taken prisoner, or with the other ones for that matter. Still in dragon shape, he paced towards the statue and responded, as if talking to the jackal head itself:
  "Oh you are mistaken, we have no business with a scarab, great or otherwise."
 "We certainly wouldn't wish to challenge the divine, though I don't see what that has to do with you," he added with a chuckle.

 "No... we have simply come here to retrieve something we need. You and your minion can step aside, and no harm will come to you. Or you could try and stop us, though I doubt you would even slow us down..." he said with bravado and a large fanged smile, hoping to goad the Scarab to reveal himself.

 Qvan looked behind him and noticed an opening in the little side cave, supposedly towards the rest of the cavernous complex. He told the others:
 "Shall we carry on? It is getting late, but we might as well press on now that we have pushed the door."

---

I'm ok with carry on, just wondering when will be a good point to bring in the new PC

Rictor had captured the cultist on Zhira's orders and had no plans in particular for them, so he remained seated in the middle of his back and confined himself to a cuff now and againw whenever he struggled.

"Aye." He nodded his assent to Qvan. "We won't let bravado and big words sway us from our goal. Let's press forward, and retrieve the Shroud. If these cultists are thralls of the Jackal then we will cut through them, if they will not yield."

There was a long moment of silence after Rictor had responded to Qvan's general question of carrying on, but eventually the voice rang out once more in a tone tinged with regret.

"Ah, you seek the infamous Shroud of Flies? I see. Understandably you have come here in the hopes of discovering it after all these centuries, but I'm afraid your search will be in vain. The ancient relic lies in the ruins of Shadun, far to the north of here. The cultists of Lamashtu have found it in these caves long ago and, seeing how their goddess might not be pleased about having such a powerful artifact of a rival divinity in her sanctuary, took it away."

While the party made their way to the northern part of the cavern to investigate the ledge that was present there and apparently led further into the hill, the disembodied voice trailed after them. "As mentioned before, the Great Scarab will not fault you for intruding here. Even though the search for a daemonic relic might be suspicious to some, we will not question your motives and simply let you leave in peace once again. We wish you good fortune on your further travels!" The last words sounded a bit too hopeful and pressing to be considered honest.

Up and behind the ledge lay a side cave containing various treasures, with much of the stored wealth here being food, wine, and home sundries. But several large clay jars overflew with tens of thousands of coins, mostly of the copper variety and a silver-capped ivory tusk that looked quite expensive.

Zhira chuckled at the disembodied voice's claims, then asked, sounding genuinely curious:

"And how exactly is the Great Scarab healing the curse of the jackal prince? I'd be rather curious to know what sort of power can so easily neutralize the hatred of a daemon prince."

Musa had been mostly ignoring the fight with the Sand Giants. He had not returned to bother with such trivial concerns, although he did fight back when a giant got too close. When the Dragon and the strangers had arrived, Musa had tried to get close, but in the crush of the bodies, he had been wastefully delayed.

Now, with Mara and the leader of the giants going with the newcomers up to the rock Musa finally followed them. The two had glared at him when he arrived, Sakargo with open anger at another Suli approaching, and Maralet with suspicion at what Musa was up to. Still, this was no time to respect the leader's authority. He had too many concerns about the plague spreading through the desert.

Reaching the two, Musa turned up the charm. Within a few minutes, he had the giant chuckling at a joke and Maralet sighing at his flirtations. A minute after that, he was going deeper into the rock to "check on the strangers" with both giant and suli leader's convinced it was their own idea.

---

Diplomacy of 33, taking 10 is 43 to convince the two to let me pass

---

Walking onwards, he reaches the others and hears the very end of the conversation. He intentionally walks loudly, not wanting the strangers to think he was sneaking up on them. A gold dragon and its companions were not ones to antagonize unnecessarily. Especially given the butchery of daemons and cultists he had seen on his way over.

"Pardon my interruption of your conversation, but I would very much like to know the answer to the lady's question as well!" Musa called out.

The voice remained focused solely on the main cavern, so Rictor had some trouble hearing everything that was spoken, especially by his allies, standing a good distance away in this side cave.

"Yet another inquisitive child of the desert arrives? You try our patience with your endless, presumptive questions, mortals. The powers of the divine are truly capable of tremendous feats, triumphing even over a daemonic harbinger, let that be enough of an answer! But we would advise not to question us too closely and just be glad that the poor sick people of Meraz have found one small reprieve in these trying times. As you can see by the treasure your companion will most assuredly have discovered by now, they were more than happy and grateful for our aid, showering us by their own free will with their hard-earned money. Now let us rest in peaceful quiet. When morning comes, the Great Scarab needs to take care of his flock once more."

Musa listens to the voice closely, looking for the wavering indicative of a lie.

08:22, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 37 using 1d20+17.  sense motive.

Musa begins to laugh. This voice was clever, to clever for its own good. Normally, he would simply note that and move on, but the situation was too dire for him to remain in the shadows. Now was the time for action, bold courageous action. He calls out a response in a bold voice"I accept your title of child of the desert. The spirits in the rocks and the sand and the wind, even the spirit of the great Sun itself speak to me, and I alone hear them. They all laugh at you, false god! They laugh at you, and name you as I do, grifter and thief. They laugh and tell me tales of you demanding gifts before healing is provided. But they do not simply laugh! They also whisper that you do not provide true healing, that that too is an illusion, a lie.

Tell me truthfully, do you provide healing or only trickery? If you speak truly, I will not begrudge you your deceptions and lies. I am a child of the desert, and I can appreciate a clever con. But I will know if you lie to me, as I knew before, and if you do so I will call the spirits of the desert to pull you out of your hiding place begging and screaming, and take back every last coin which you stole. I will leave you alone and naked under the holy sun. I am Musa Agasi, speaker for the hidden spirits of the desert. As I have spoken, so will I do. Consider carefully your decision!"

 Qvan was closing the march, his draconic bulk partially hiding the other companions. The arrival of this elegant Suli gentleman was surprising in a certain way, and not all that surprising in an other way. As Aryk had mentioned before, they were no coincidences in this fable that they were enacting.

 He turned around to find the bald man speaking to the so-called great scarab, and voicing a similar conclusion to his own.

 In a low rumble of draconic voice, he whispered:
  "Who are you? One of the Stormriders? Did Maralet send you? Just a minute ago she seemed to favour a more... laissez-faire approach. You seem to have a different view to hers on what this charlatan has to offer."

 The old wizard seem to consider the arrival of this charming Child of the Desert a lot more interesting than their chase for the false demigod.

---

Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 31 using 1d20+20.  Knowledge Local: who's Musa?
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 29 using 1d20+16.  Lore Meraz Desert: who's Musa?

Musa looks over at the dragon as it calls out a response, apparently not even interested in waiting for the supposedly divine voice to respond. A fair question great dragon. I am Musa Agasi and I was born the child of two storm riders. Now, some call me "desert walker" or "sand speaker." Others call me that strange one who speaks to rocks, although usually they say that last one behind my back." Musa says with a self-deprecating smile.

As for Maralet, she means well, but she has a limited view. It is her duty to protect the clan, and she does it well. But for me, the desert and all who live within it are my clan, and as such I have been seeking out a solution to the plague that afflicts us. I had hoped to find answers here, but I think this so-called god has little of value. But fortune favors the bold, and it seems luck has lead me to you today.

Rictor nodded from his seat atop the cultist. He took Musa for one of the Suli tribesmen down below and didn't think to question his presence in the shrine. "Aye, we seek as you do to protect the people of the desert. There are great things afoot here, and grave dangers. Your aid is welcome if you seek the power that lies within this place. I am Rictor, sometimes called the Wyrmbane."

Seeing that nobody had any questions for the cultist Rictor let him up, relieved him of his weapons, and sped him on his way with aid from the tip of his boot. "Begone from my sight, and if you have wisdom begone from Katapesh lest my patience with you run thin." He said, and then promptly put the man out of his mind.

He spared no thought for the hoard of ill gotten treasure except to plunge his arms into the glittering vats of coins to see if there was something besides silver hidden there. This so-called 'great scarab', indicated by Qvan and now by this newcomer to be a charlatan, seemed to be a lover of illusion and obfuscation. With nothing like Qvan's mystical senses to guide him Rictor withdrew from his enchanted quiver a perfectly mundane tool, a wooden pole a bit thinner than a quarterstaff and measuring an even ten feet in length. With this he began a probing examination of the chamber, tapping on walls, poking at casks of wine, and feeling his way around the walls of the chamber in search of any hidden means of progress.

---

Got a 38 on perception to check the new chamber for secret or illusory doors.

With barley suppressed anger and righteous indignation, the voice responded once more to the taunts of Musa. "We will not be mocked and threatened by the likes of you, mortal! Be silent now and leave while you still can, all of you, or you will face the wrath of the divine! The Great Scarab will scour this holy and sacred place of your meddling and desecrating presence! This is our final warning!"

The cultist Rictor captured, who had been struggling against the grasp of the ranger throughout and insulted him and everyone else in harsh whispers during the times when the divine voice was not speaking, was certainly quite surprised at being released. He looked at the prince for a long moment, mouth agape in stunned silence, then gritted his teeth and hurried out of the main cavern. But everyone with heightened senses good hear that his footsteps only carried him to within a few feet of the illusory wall that hid the tunnel, then stopped.

Ignoring the servant of Trelmarixian, Rictor started to investigate this treasure-filled side cave, but didn't spot any secret passages or hidden objects. It seems that at least this part of the cave system was as it appeared to be.

"Those with true power do, they do not merely boast and bluster incoherently." Musa says with a chuckle. He looks around, trying to discern how the speaker is projecting or hiding its voice.



Trying to identify if the speaker is invisible and hiding near where the voice is coming from, or using some magic to project it's voice.
09:28, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 33,34 using 1d20+20,1d20+19.  spellcraft, perception to identify voice.


Qvan: From what Musa has said about himself, you recognize him by rumor. Supposedly, there is a Suli who wanders the harshest parts of the desert alone, speaking with the rocks and winds. Most people think that the sun drove him at least half-mad and of little consequence, but others have heard hints and rumors of great mystical and martial prowess.

 The voice of the Scarab was halfway through his last sentence when the Gold Dragon snapped his fingers with the briefest incantation of magic. The linguists or arcane casters could recognise a casting of Dispel Magic.

 This interrupted the voice on the spot, and the remainder of the message was lost.
  "You'd think a God had better means of communication..."

 The dragon shrunk to a human size, and took back his natural shape, that of a wizened six and a half foot wizard, white hair and white moustache, tanned skin, silk robes and a number of shiny trinkets.
  "Well met Musa Agasi. Peace be with you. I am Qvan Ibn Hamid, and I have heard your reputation. It seems you have come to the right place if you seek to find a remedy to the Curse. As it so happens, our company is short one as our Cleric decided his skills would better serve our enterprise by staying in Dimayen and helping the afflicted. Would you care to join us?"

---

  Dispel Magic on Ventriloquism (the arcane version of turning off the speaker's mic!!)
 And resume natural shape through Shapechange.

"And upon you peace, son of Hamid." Musa said respectfully. Taking his cue from Qvan he ignored the silenced "god" other than a clapped appreciation of the spell. "Well cast."

As the dragon transformed into an elderly human, Musa's eyebrows rose in increasing curiosity.
"Are you man or dragon then Qvan? Or something else? It is interesting you call a Curse, not a plague? None of the storm riders have you been infected, so I have hear little but rumors and ill words to judge the affliction. You sound as if you know more, yet here you are at the same place as me, and with this "great scarab" proving false, seemingly at the same dead end as myself as well.

12:13, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 35 using 1d20+23.  lore:meraz desert: Who's Qvan?
I don't have knowledge (local) so not sure if I'd get anything from this.

"Indeed." Aryk agreed with Musa.
"He talks too much and acts too little, revealing his impotence."

Aryk too, began searching the cave for anything of use or anything out of the ordinary.

He had not spent enough time in the region to be aware of all the lore and gossip, or to have absorbed all the reputations floating around the region, and as such was unfamiliar with the newcomer.  He did not though spot his search, as he trusted the other party members to deal with him in he needed to be dealt with.

"I welcome you, Mr. Asagi, and I am sure the others do as well.  You would be a fine addition, as long as you don't mind warring with demons & their minions."

---

Perception Check: 35 = 29 + 1d20 (6)
Appraise Check: 15 = 6 + 1d20 (9)

 A sibylline smile worthy of a sphinx formed on Qvan's wizened face, subtly curling his moustache up. He nodded in appreciation of the compliment, and replied with a curtsey.

  "I am many different things, depending on the occasion. Sometimes a dragon when we fly over the desert, sometimes a cat if I need to sneak out at night. Yet the blood in my veins is human, Qadiran to be exact. I am the Headmaster of the ASICS Academy. I started investigating this so called plague when some of my students fell to it..."

 "I've assembled a small force of former associates of mine. Sir Rictor Wyrmbane, heir of Alkir, Lieutenant Zhira Al-Darea of the Qadiran Army, Aryk, Psi Warrior of the Conclave of the Eye, and Vahid al-Mavari, Cleric of the Dawnflower who is currently treating the inflicted in Dimayen."

 "We quickly established that this was no mere disease, and discovered soon after that it was a Curse spread my jackals, envoys of the Jackal-Prince of Famine, one of the four Harbingers of Doom."

 "We came here, well first out of curiosity for this Great Scarab fellow, and he is a curiosity is he not? But more importantly we seek an artefact which we think can help us send the avatar of the Jackal-Prince of Famine whence it came."

 The smile on Qvan's face broadened and he added: "In a nutshell!"

 One would not say that charisma was his striking feature, but the wizard had a certain charm in his quirky professorial ways.

 

---

Musa may have heard of the Academy, it was created some 25 years ago by Qvan and two of his then adventuring companions. They teach magic along with monastic traditions, with the idea that a brilliant and healthy requires and deserves a performant and sane body.
 Qvan is indeed surprisingly fit and athletic for a man in his seventies. 

Zhira smiled wrily at Qvan's words, and once Qvan had introduced her, she nodded respectfully to Musa and added, in a casual tone

"Ex-Lieutenant; as always, Master Qvan's politeness grants me perhaps more honor than I would deserve. Even so, you have my respect for making it here alive, and any willing help is welcome, no matter how small."

She then looked around, and asked to nobody in particular:

"Do you think whoever tried to intimidate us is standing around, hidden somewhere, or might they have been able to control that far-talking spell from afar, and thus be making their way to some form of emergency exit even now? While they are probably inconsequential to our task, and might even be worth sparing if they prove helpful, or at least not interfering with our mission, simply letting them slip from our fingers would leave a bad taste on my tongue."

"Greetings to you all then. I would be honored to join up with such a distinguished group. If you are here for an artifact, have you found it yet? If not, I will provide my own assistance in the search. Perhaps we will find the voice behind the "Great Scarab" as well." Musa suggested.

He lifted his head up to the heavens, and called to the spirits to reveal the hidden.
Cast invisibility purge, removes all invisibility within 95 of me, then walk around the caves.

As he checked along the east wall, near the now overturned card table, Aryk saw a slight discontinuity in the wall, and with some careful prodding got it to move slightly.  He raised an eyebrow then turned back to the rest of the party, motioning silently to them, then the door.

Once all were assembled, he pushed it open and went in, sword ready.

As soon as Aryk had discovered the secret door in the eastern wall and made his companions aware of this, he pressed one small rock outcropping to trigger the opening mechanism. With a low rumbling sound a large section of the wall lowered into the ground, giving way to a short tunnel and a large room beyond.

This sprawling chamber of dusty marble and tarnished brass suggested a once-grand shrine. Statues of heroes filled alcoves along the walls, while a large metal door stood ajar in the northern wall. A few makeshift beds were placed in one corner, and hand-drawn maps were pasted on the walls.

A few feet into the room stood a 10-foot tall creature made of gray stone, wearing expensive elaborate robes and a large beetle mask over its head. Behind it, at the far side of the chamber, stood an old human man with suntanned skin, a black beard and long white hair. With a grimace, he pointed his long staff at the entrance and suddenly the entire area around the secret door was filled with  a horrific combination of soul-rending energy and physical corrosion. A mere heartbeat later, a large wall of dark stone erupted from the ground, sealing off the entrance and separating Aryk from the rest of the party.

---

The two spellcasters were ready to cast their spells as soon as the door was opened, Ibhris almost immediately putting a Wall of Stone in the way that fills the space between Rictor and Aryk. I'm going to assume that Zhira will 'cut' the second spell cast by Jambre and nullify its effects, but if that will not the case I'm going to include the details of the mechanics below the map as usual.

Please be aware that Ibhris is invisible at the moment! I only included his token on the visible map for anyone who can see him despite this. Also, any attacks must get past Jambre's Displacement effect unless your character ignores this as well.

The whole party is up next!

Everyone in the party suffers 1d4 negative levels and must make a DC 24 Fortitude save or take 71 acid damage (half with a successful save)!

Musa flinched away from the blast of caustic energy, avoiding the brunt of it, his mind and body hardened by years in the sun. With a quick prayer, he doubled in size and stepped closer to the other. Musa focused his mind on the spirits around him. All is nothingness before the sun, even magic.

"I can take you over to the other side of the wall if you grasp my hand!" He called, stretching out his hand to the others.


Assuming the acid spell goes through: 08:41, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 2,30 using 1d4,1d20+19.  negative levels, fort save.
Succeed on save, half damage is 35, reduced by 5 for resistance is 30 damage taken.
Standard Action: Cast Divine Vessel (Celestial Aspect)
Move Action: Activate Martial Flexibility, gain Martial Focus, Cut from the Air, Smash from the Air
Swift Action: Cast quickened Divine Power (quickened is free due to spell perfection)

---

Hit Points: 206/236 (+19 temp)(assuming 2 negative levels, includes HP from increased Con score)
Active Effects:
Invisibility purge: removes all invisibility spells within 95 feet of me
Divine Vessel: Grants +6 Str, +6 Con, +2 Dex, +3 nat armor, +1 size (up to large),SR 31, DR 10/evil, resist acid 10, cold 10, and electricity 10, low-light vision, Dark Vision (60 feet), a fly speed of 60 feet (good maneuverability), attacks count as Good for DR
Divine Power grants +6 luck bonus (net +7 due to fate's favored) to attack and damage, 19 temporary hit points, and an extra attack on full attacks similar to (and doesn't stack with haste)
Cut/Smash from the Air allows me to deflect ranged attacks, including siege weapons and spells as an attack of opportunity. It only applies to spells with ranged attacks, not area of effect spells.

This message was last edited by the player at 13:31, Mon 26 Oct 2020.

 Once again, Zhira had proved that countering nefarious spell was not a spellcaster's monopoly. The evil combination of conjuration and necromancy would have damaged significantly even a seasoned group such as they had.

 Aryk was stuck on behind a stone wall, and while he knew the warriors would be able to take it down, there was no point blunting their blades on stone when there was flesh to bite.

 Qvan stepped forward and grabbed Musa's enlarged hand, he himself turned large and his skin took the appearance of sandstone. He extended his arm to touch Rictor and Zhira with stone-like appendages. He was not going to wait for Musa to take them on the other side, as that was usually his job.

 A spell was quickly on his lips, and the four of them vanished to instantly reappear not only on the other side of the wall, but behind the large scarab-faced creature, bringing the swordspeople in ready to skirmish.
  "Well met, everyone... parley is over, I reckon?" he growled, his voice sounding like rocks grinding together. He looked at the grotesque elemental creature, wondering what on Earth he or she was.

 With mental practice, he reorganised his companions in the place between worlds, so that they reappeared in perfect fighting order.

---

Free: Turn to Huge Earth Elemental
 Spontaneously Cast Dimension Door (lose Earth Glide)
 Qvan reappears South East of Great Scarab (huge), Musa, Rictor and Zhira just North of him – whichever place you like in that area I suppose.
 Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 47 using 1d20+34.  knowledge the Planes: identify Great Scarab.

Fortunately Zhira was in an ideal position to see the mage at the other end of the large chamber, even if the hulking form of the Great Scarab blocked most of his body, and immediately noticed the telltale signs of a potent spell being cast. Blade whirling in a protective arc around her, the devastating effects of the spell failed to take hold for more than a split second, saving everyone from being exposed to the life draining forces.

Musa didn't hesitate for one moment, either, accepting otherworldly energies into his body and beginning to transform as soon as he saw that enemies who were clearly aiming to kill everyone present in this group. He grew in size, his features taking on the cold and alien aspect of a perfect celestial being. As if this wasn't enough, the oracle then called upon the divine power of his patron, imbuing himself with even more strength and skill in combat.

Qvan fell back on his trusted combat form of the towering earth elemental and quickly brought everyone on the other side of the newly-formed stone wall, placing himself and his companions as advantageously as possible between the Scarab and the two mages.

---

Ibhris' invisible is purged at the moment and not effective! Still, any attacks must get past Jambre's Displacement effect unless your character can ignore this.


Waiting for Aryk, Zhira and Rictor!





This message was last edited by the GM at 21:10, Mon 26 Oct 2020.

Rictor had just released his bow and stretched out his hand towards Musa when Qvan grabbed his sleeve, cast a spell, and the room seemed to shift around him. Rictor had adventured alongside the space distorting powers of mages before, but such a jaunt was always disorienting. His ears popped like he had gone through a high altitude dive on his gryphon and his jaw dropped to relieve the pressure. It made him look slackjawed and a little ridiculous, but his reaction was anything but harmless.

His reactions were instant, his reflexes as taut as the string on his bow. Qvan had deposited him directly beside the massive stone creature and Rictor acted on instinct. He didn't know who or what it was and so he drew deep on the well of magic within him, focusing all of his emnity on the creature.

His bow vanished. His blade leapt to his hands. And he instantly stepped forward in the whirlwind of blows that categorized Wind Shakes the Willow.

---

Free Action: Activate Boots of Haste
Swift Action: Cast Instant Enemy on The Great Scarab
Full Round Action: Full attack vs Great Scarab. Got 44, 48(!), 40, 36, 37(!) to hit, with two of those being potential crits. One of the crit confirm rolls succeeded on a 56 and a 23.

I also rolled Rictor's negative levels in case Zhira doesn't manage to slice the spell in half.

IF Zhira manages to slice the spell Rictor gets 3 hits and 1 crit for 169 slashing damage. If it's evil it takes an additional 30 damage. The Great Scarab is Staggered for 1 round and must make a DC27 fortitude save or be staggered for 5 rounds instead. Rictor's sword bypasses adamantine DR by simple virtue of being adamantine.

I rolled up the numbers in case he's got negative levels which would cause him to miss one of his attacks, I'll swap to 'em if that's the case. That staggering crit does go off even if he's debuffed tho.

[EDITED: MATH IS HARD]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:15, Mon 26 Oct 2020.

 Even in his earthy elemental form, Qvan was recognisable if only through his voice and signature moustache.

 He mumbled to the companions:
  "The Scarab is a golem! Magical construct of stone..."

 He assumed they would know what this meant in terms of the creatures capabilities and (few) weaknesses.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:57, Tue 27 Oct 2020.

Aryk charged the great demon, swiping at him with his sword, but missing wide.  With a sharp pop, he disappeared and then reappeared on the demon's side, next to Rictor, in the span of a blink, his arrival bringing with it a thunderous wave that swept across the room.

---

Fort Save: 1d20 (7) + 13 vs. 24.  Fail.  71 points of acid damage.
Negative Levels: 1d4(3).
Standard Move: K19 (flanking)

Aryk uses 'Thundering Step'.

https://www.d20pfsrd.com/alter...s/t/thundering-step/

Attack Roll: 1d20(9) + 2 + 17 = 28.  Miss.
Teleport to I16.  All three enemies make Fort saves against daze (DC 21).

After the instant relocation, efficiently bypassing the defensive barrier, deposited Rictor straight into the fray, he sprang into action with fluid movements and expert skill. His magic-enhanced attacks hit the lumbering construct easily enough, chipping off big chunks of stone with each strike. His blade was made from a much more durable material than mere rock and the normally tough exterior of the golem presented no challenge whatsoever.

Aryk was the only one having to actually move to engage the enemies. The warrior charged up, following his companions, and tried to land a hit on the golem, but his enhanced swing bounced of harmlessly. To at least have some impact on the unfolding battle, Aryk then teleported next to Rictor with contained explosion of thundering noise. Alas, even this attempt failed to work as he had hoped to.

---

Rictor, constructs are immune to effects that require a Fort save, so the Scarab is immune to being staggered in this way. It is also not evil.

Aryk, I'm not sure the way you moved according to your coordinates would result in all three enemies having to make a save, but I rolled them anyway and the two mages made it comfortably. The golem is, as mentioned above, unfortunately immune.

Ibhris' invisible is purged at the moment and not effective! Still, any attacks must get past Jambre's Displacement effect unless your character can ignore this.


Waiting for Zhira!

Zhira was ready for combat the moment the mage cast at them, and her scimitar cut through the negative energies with the same ease it would have cut through cloth.

Then, as soon as Musa had teleported them inside the cave, her sword and eyes both started to glow with golden light, and she charged at the enemy who had been invisible, smashing him with her shoulder and the flat of her scimitar and pushing him back with the sheer impact of her body and her incredible strength with almost contemptuous ease.

OOC: I know it has already taken effect, I'll state for the record that the roll for my Unreal Riposte was 37.

Now, my trait lets me draw my Scimitar as part of rolling Initiative, so I already have it in hand, and I'm spending one use of my Scabbard to make it also be Keen.

I'm spending my Martial Focus to use Piecing Gaze, which lets me reduce any miss chance a character has by 45%, as well as letting me roll twice and take best if dealing with Mirror Images or similar. I believe that Displacements just gives 50% miss chance, so this will reduce it to 5% (ie, only if I roll 1 on a d20), and that's what I'll roll for, but if I have it wrong, just let me know and I'll correct myself.

Next, I'm using Warrior Spirit to empower my scimitar; that means it goes from +2 Keen to +5 Keen Preventative Leveraging Training, and for Training I'm taking "Extra Combat Talent" to get "Quick Force", which lets me use power maneuvers (Bull Rush, Overrun, etc.) as a Move or (when paying Martial Focus) Swift Action. This eats up my Standard Action.

For my move action, I'm using Shove on Akpal. First is my miss chance roll:

00:39, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 8 using 1d20.  Miss Chance (only miss on a 1).

Next, Shove is a touch attack, so my target number is 21, which means I once again only fail on a 1.

00:44, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 40 using 1d20+37.  Shove - Touch Attack.

That's not a 1, so my enemy takes 12 damage and is Battered until end turn (meaning, no Attacks of Opportunity provoked by attempting combat maneuvers, and -2 to CMD; this one is active until the end of this turn).

Shove returns me my Martial Focus, and since I inflicted damage, I gain 1 Tension Point and trigger my armor's Bolstering property, increasing my saves by 2 against anything Akpahl tries to do next turn. I'm also not sure if a touch attack can be considered "a successful hit", or if I need to actually hit the full AC for it to count; if it does count, then Preventative (from my weapon) grants me an extra +5 to my AC against Akpahl for the next minute (this is circumstance, so it stacks with everything, but it isn't clear in the text if it applies to Touch AC or not).

With that out of the way, I still have a Swift Action left, so I spend Martial Focus to Bull Rush Akpahl; thanks to Leveraging on my weapon, the enhancement bonus of my weapon is doubled when applied to power maneuvers, such as Bull Rush.

So, rolling the miss chance first:

00:55, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 9 using 1d20.  Miss Chance (only miss on a 1)

Which means I can successfully attempt the Bull Rush.

00:57, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 51 using 1d20+47.  Swift Action Bull Rush.

Now, his CMD isn't there, but I'm going to assume that my roll beats it by at least 5, so that I can push Akpahl to L21; since I had to spend Martial Focus to Bull Rush as a Swift, I can't benefit from Hammer for this one. I can, however, move along Akpahl as I Bull Rush him, which moves me to K20; since that's 10 ft of movement, I also get 1 tension point out of it, going up to 2. And naturally, my Bull Rush is leaving Akpahl battered until the end of my next turn. If the assumption is wrong, I will of course correct the post as soon as I'm informed.

And that's pretty much it for my turn; I believe my positioning is now also giving Musa flanking bonus against Jambre in K19, in case it's relevant. I hope that was good enough as an opening move! :)

This message was last edited by the player at 00:12, Tue 27 Oct 2020.

Ibhris' eyes flashed in sudden panic as he witnessed Zhira coming straight at him, blade in hand and with no intention of stopping when she got close enough to strike. Her maneuver was successful and pushed her target back and against the wall of the room, but in the last instant before her body collided with his a thick buzzing cloud of black insects sprang up around the man, shielding him very effectively from any harm. As soon as the initial impact was negated, the mass of flies spread out in a protective cocoon around Ibhris.



The lumbering form of the Great Scarab ponderously turned around to retaliate against Prince Rictor. At first its priority was the much more intimidating form of Qvan's earth elemental, but realizing how effective and deadly the ranger's attacks proved to be, it reconsidered and chose him as the primary target. Rictor managed to dodge one swing by an inch, but the second caught him square against the right shoulder, breaking bone with its strength.

Jambre grimaced as he was quickly flanked by two opponents, one deadly dervish of a woman, the other a massive man with transcendent, angelic features. He tapped once with one booted foot on the ground to activate the magic bound within. A moment later the floor was covered in a circular area of darkness from which shadowy hands stretched forth to grasp the mage, dragging him down into the void. Almost at the same time he reemerged some 50 feet away to the north as the same mass of hands deposited him there safe and sound. Jambre then proceeded to cast a Dispel Magic in a futile attempt to counteract Musa's purging spell.

Ibrhis regained his composure as he witnessed the artifact draped around his shoulders springing to life and shielding him from the golden-eyed warrior. "It seems my arguments were not enough to dissuade you from continuing your search in this cave, a pity really. I knew you were a dangerous lot, a mere glance at your group is enough to tell anyone that, and I had hoped a direct confrontation could be avoided. But, alas, it seems you will need to die then. Now, feel the sweet embrace of the Four Horsemen," he yelled as he gestured and invoked a powerful enchantment.

---

Zhira, Jambre has the Displacement spell active, not Ibhris. So while the invisibility remains purged, there is no miss chance for him.
I'm not really sure how your ability is meant to work, but a 'successful hit' triggers against touch AC as well as far as I'm concerned. Also, I tend to forget to include the CMD for enemies at the start of combat, corrected this now.

Ibhris is from now on surrounded by a defensive aspect of the Shroud of Flies that negates all incoming damage up to a certain threshold. In addition, everyone who enters or starts their turn within this aura takes automatic damage as if attacked by a swarm.

Ibhris' invisible is purged at the moment and not effective! Still, any attacks must get past Jambre's Displacement effect unless your character can ignore this.


The entire party is up next!



The Great Scarab attacks Rictor twice with a 32 & 36 vs. AC, one hit for 61 damage.

Jambre rolled a 28 against the DC of 29 for his caster level check against Musa.

Ibhris took a 5-foot step and then casts a more potent version of the Mass Charm Monster spell. Qvan and Rictor both need to make a Will save against DC 26. Musa seems to be immune to such an effect, correct?

Musa ignores the voice in his head. He's heard so many voices his whole life, he's long since learned when to listen and when to simply ignore. Instead, he spins around into a glowing ball of light, which vanishes and reappears next to Jambre. "Where are you going?" He asks, and swings his sword. Musa, going back and forth between his transcendent angelic form and the glowing sun appears and disappears again and again, each time his sword swinging a vicious powerful arc.

One attack misses as the man's form blinks back and forth, but the second smashes into his guts, a burst of magic discharging from the sword to remove the protective illusion. Meanwhile, Musa no sooner withdraws the blade then he disappears again and re-appears, continuing to attack. Powered by the sun, Musa continues to jump, leaving streaks of light behind him

---

Correct, assuming the charm-like spell is still mind-affecting, Musa is immune.

Actions:
Swift + Full round action to use dimensional Savant to cast Dimension door and then full attack. Dimensional Savant gives me 2x my speed for movement, and with Divine Vessel I have a speed of 60 feet, so 120 feet total. None of my teleports are going to be more than 30 feet, so I easily have enough.
Note: all locations below are given as the location of my top left corner.
I start by going to E15 (30 feet of movement) and attacking, which misses from displacement.
15:15, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 37,48,37 using 1d20+31,2d6+39,1d100.  attack 1 vs Jambre, damage, displacement (51-100 is a hit).
Then teleport to D14, and critically hit:
15:15, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 49,43,62 using 1d20+31,2d6+39,1d100.  attack 2 vs Jambre, damage, displacement (51-100 is a hit).
15:16, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 42,94 using 1d20+31,4d6+78.  crit confirm, extra damage.
Total of 137 slashing damage, penetrates DR/magic and good.

If he's still alive, as a free action I discharge the greater dispel magic to dispel 3 effects on Jambre (including displacement), so long as they are caster level 16 or lower. Note that the bonus is +24 because I add the +5 enhancement bonus, sadly I rolled a 3.
15:17, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 27 using 1d20+24.  dispel check (if he survived attack #2).

If Jambre is still alive, I teleport to  attack him again. If he's not, I instead teleport to H13 and attack the golem (add +2 to the attack for flanking)
15:17, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 33,42,96 using 1d20+26,2d6+39,1d100.  attack 3 vs Jambre, damage, displacement.

If Jambre is still alive, I teleport and attack him again. If he's not, I teleport to L14 and attack, again with flanking.
15:18, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 37,47,57 using 1d20+21,2d6+39,1d100.  attack 4 vs Jambre, damage, displacement (51-100 is a hit).

If Jambre is alive at the end of the last attack, I end at D14. If he's dead (even if only dropped on the last attack), I end by teleporting to L14.

Well, not quite as long an OOC as Zhira, but not bad if I do say so myself. :-)
This message was last edited by the player at 19:52, Tue 27 Oct 2020.

Jambre had escaped the threatening presence of Musa's towering form only for the briefest of moments. Echoing the teleportation effect of the mage, just with more style and brighter visuals, the oracle followed to the northern half of the chamber. Without missing a beat, Musa laid into the man with his magical falcata blade. After the first strike went wide thanks to the illusory spell protecting Jambre, all three follow-up attacks connected easily. This was enough to end the life of the man, whose presence on the battlefield didn't really amount to much in the end.

---

Musa, Jambre had a caster level of 18, so no spell was dispelled. Shouldn't matter, though, seeing as he is dead now anyway.

Ibhris is from now on surrounded by a defensive aspect of the Shroud of Flies that negates all incoming damage up to a certain threshold. In addition, everyone who enters or starts their turn within this aura takes automatic damage as if attacked by a swarm.

Waiting for Qvan, Aryk, Zhira and Rictor!

Aryk stepped to the side, inching closer to trying to flank around the construct.  He focused, his mind focused upon his next strike, pushing his mental energy into the act of knowing where the target would be.  As he slashed out with his sword, both it's crystalline blade and the beetle-shaped cloak-clasp upon his chest glowed, and his blade struck true with it's first hit, the second merely glancing off.

---

Five foot step to I15.

Manifest Inevitable Strike for 7 points; +17 to hit, negates concealment miss chance.

Attack: 1d20(11) + 20 + 17 = 48.  Hit.
Attack: 1d20(13) + 15 = 28.  Miss

Golembane Scarab negates the golem's DR.
Conclave Blade: 1d8(3) + 1d6 fire (3) + 10 + 2d6 psionic (5) = 21 Damage.

"Aaaargh!" Rictor growled out a cry of pain as a fist the size of a millstone and just as hard smashed down on him. The downward blow knocked him to his knees and he could hear something in his shoulder snap. He surged upwards with a roar and every intention of plunging his blade through the creature but found that even the slightest motion of his arm sent howling shards of pain tearing through him. He shifted to an awkward left handed grip and settled for rolling count, a sword form for beginner students that required very little motion.

---

Full Round Action: Full attack vs Great Scarab. Got two hits, for 85 total damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:31, Wed 28 Oct 2020.

Somewhat frustrated about his initial miss, Arky manifested more of his psionic power and, after taking a quick step to a more favorable position, cleaved into the golem before him. He finally managed to land a solid blow on the opponent, in part thanks to his glowing clasp on his chest that invested his strike with exactly the right amount of magical energy to overcome the creature's natural defenses.

Rictor took the bone-crunching hit he just suffered only as a temporary setback and repeated his success at reducing the golem to rocky chunks with two more well-placed attacks. The Great Scarab looked pretty demolished by now, though merely 10 seconds have gone by since the party had teleported into the room, and especially Ibhris' face showed some real concern about this unforeseen development.

---

Rictor, I didn't see a Will save from you. Did you miss this part in my previous post about the actions of the enemies?

Ibhris is from now on surrounded by a defensive aspect of the Shroud of Flies that negates all incoming damage up to a certain threshold. In addition, everyone who enters or starts their turn within this aura takes automatic damage as if attacked by a swarm.

Waiting for Qvan and Zhira !

As the Shroud of Flies is almost as full 'health' still, Zhira will suffer 56 piercing damage and 41 poison damage at the start of her turn!

 Qvan was blending with the surrounding rocky background fairly well... but he thought it might be better to switch to something a little bit more useful. Swarms were known to be an annoyance, but he knew of one thing that worked reasonably well against them: dragon's breath.

 In a whirlwind of silver lights and sparks, his earth-like texture crystallised into a draconic shape, standing proud and slender. The Noble silver dragon wasted no time and unleashed a storm of cold shards on Ibhris and his malevolent flies. The cold was not just intense, it was biting to the point of freezing one's bones on the spot.

 Focusing his attention, the now silver dragon cast a favourite spell of his, the one thing that students feared most at the academy, and the signature that made him famous in his adventuring days.
 "Al'Masakhu..." he coldly uttered with a claw pointed at the wicked man.

 If things went according to plan, the man would collapse and transform into a harmless tortoise – with a bit of luck the spell would keep his mind intact.

---

Free: switch shape to Huge Silver Dragon
Standard: breath cone of cold 51 cold damage (reflex DC30 for half)
Swift: Quickened Baleful Polymorph into Tortoise (Fort DC27 negates)

I rolled (and fumbled!) my will save just in case, but with constant Protection from Evil, Qvan is immune to mental control from any Evil source – which I gather the Shroud is.
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 23 using 1d20+22.  will save DC26.
Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 51 using 12d8.  silver dragon cold breath

OOC: Will post a 'real' update after Zhira took her turn, but I wanted to let everyone know that Ibhris failed the saving throw. This does not change anything for the Cloud of Flies effect, as the Shroud is still in place and is protecting its wearer.

Also, thanks for pointing out the benefits of the Protection from Evil spell, Qvan, forgot that part. So, wasn't the smartest choice targeting two enemies who are immune, but he wasn't aware of this fact of course. Tough luck.

Zhira grinned upon seeing that Qvan had turned their opponent into a turtle, even as the flies surrounding it bit into her. She turned toward the Great Scarab, launching herself at the creature with enough strength to make it stumble; taking advantage of this, she struck with her scimitar, the golden blade cutting into the large enemy and pushing him back, which Zhira took advantage of to strike at the creature again.

OOC: targeting me would have been worse though, since not only am I also immune AND had an extra Save bonus against him, it'd have also opened up the spell to an attempt at Unreal Riposte. Really, things were just not in his favor at all from the beginning.

Anyway, the first note of the turn is that, assuming the swarm is still active, I rather think taking damage from it should count as "taking damage from an enemy attack", which gives me 1 point of tension, raising my total to 3.

That aside, I open by using my move action to Shove Big Bug; that's a 15 ft movement, which nets me 1 tension point so that I raise my total to 4.

17:38, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 50 using 1d20+37, Shove.

Seeing as Shove is a Touch Attack, it as usual only miss on a 1, which this wasn't, so that'll be 13 damage and, extremely important, he'll be left Battered, so his CMD goes down by 2 and maneuvers don't provoke attacks of opportunity from him.

I should also note that this hit moves the effect of my Bolstering and Preventative (+2 saves, +5 AC) to target the Great Scarab rather than Ibhris.

Next, my standard action is a Vital Strike Power Attack, for which I roll:

17:47, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 42 using 1d20+32.  Vital Strike Power Attack.

That's a success, but not a crit, sadly. Rolling for damage:

17:53, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 68 using 8d6+42 ((2,2,5,2,2,4,6,3)). Power Attack Vital Strike Damage.

Not too much, but then again he's already pretty hurt anyway; as my scimitar has +5 enhancement, it punches through Adamantine DR, and in addition to the 68 damage, he also get an extra +5 bleed damage (so the total is 73), assuming he's not immune to bleed (I'll note that most construct are immune). Either way, that's damage to an enemy, which earns me the last tension point for the turn, so my total goes up to 5.

As usual with a Standard Attack, I can Follow-Through into a Bull Rush, for which I roll:

17:54, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 51 using 1d20+44.  Follow-Through Bull Rush.

Against a CMD of 39 (due to Battered), that's a 12 ft movement, which means the guy gets moved back two squares; not enough to smash him into the wall, unfortunately. The enemy should now be occupying the J13-J14-K13-K14 squares.

I will follow after the monster as I bull rush it, and then spend 3 tension points to launch a new attack - full BAB and power attack, but NOT Vital Strike - as a Swift Action.

19:56, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 37 using 1d20+32.  Quick Attack.

That's just barely a hit, but a hit nevertheless, so I get to roll for damage again:

20:01, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 44 using 2d6+38.  Quick Attack Damage.

This also gets the +5 bleed if the enemy isn't immune, and is still delivered with the same DR-bypassing weapon.

And I think that's it for my turn; hopefully that bit of damage will be enough to take down the Scarab, and Ibhris will see sense and surrender - we really need to interrogate him.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Wed 28 Oct 2020.

Qvan changed his form yet again, this time to that of a magnificent silver dragon, trying to make best use of its devastating breath weapon. Ibhris flinched back from the yawning draconic maw and was not quite fast enough to dodge out of the way of the incoming wave of freezing air. Thankfully, the aura of thousands of infernal flies gathered once more t block all of the breath and keep him uninjured. But before the mage had time to retaliate, did Qvan speak a single word and forced Ibhris' physical form into that of an innocent-looking tortoise.

Zhira's flesh was stung countless times as the buzzing insects descended upon her voraciously, and she could feel dozens of minuscule doses of poison being injected into her bloodstream. But, seeing that Qvan's spell took hold of her former target, she turned around and chose the crumbling form of the Great Scarab next. As is her usual tactic, she barreled into the stone golem, pushing it back some 10 feet and slashing twice with tremendous force. The construct teetered for a moment before toppling over, hitting the ground in a shattering explosion of rock.



The tortoise balefully glanced up at Qvan and croaked once. A moment later did the aura of flies leave its original position and gathered in the midst of Ibhris' enemies to wreak havoc among the tightly-clustered intruders.

---

Ibhris made the Will save and retains his mental faculties for now.

Zhira, you indeed took damage from an enemy, giving you the point of tension as assumed.

What Ibhris just did was something like the 'final move' and last resort of the Shroud of Flies, leaving himself open for attacks until he can call upon the insects again. Also, this is not something that can be sustained for more than 1 round. For the sake of simplicity, and seeing how technically the whole party goes at the same time, I already deducted the HP from everyone accordingly. Mechanical aspects listed below as always.

The entire party is up next!

As the Shroud of Flies is still at high 'health', all party members will suffer 36 piercing damage and 38 poison damage at the start of their turn, reduced by individual resistances!

 Qvan simply extended his silver arm and snatched the Tortoise. His claws held firmly onto the  shell. One thing often overlooked is that Tortoises do not live inside their shell – they are the shell as much as any other part of their body. The sharp claws pressed onto the keratin scales just enough to remind him that just a bit more pressure would crush him irremediably.

 He brought him towards him and held him tight, and explained in a few strong words:
  "If –and only if– you relinquish the Shroud now, I shall give you your old form back."

 He trusted the pathetic cultist would understand the simple logic, and the fact there was no alternative path he could take. He assumed that a nuisance of his level would have recognised the effect he was suffering, and the fact that it would be permanent unless someone dispelled it.

 Unlike the Great Scarab, Qvan was not one to utter vain threats. He did not bother threatening with death. Or with a lifetime as a slow pet eating soft lettuce. Ibhris could realise by himself the potential outcomes of his non-compliance.

---

I did not roll for grapple, but I assume he can't really miss.
(Qvan stays in draconic shape)

This message was last edited by the player at 17:25, Fri 30 Oct 2020.

With the flies biting and damaging everyone, Musa looked around, realizing that the remaining enemies seemed to be mostly defeated, but several of his new allies sport nasty wounds. Rather than try and deal with the flies, Musa instead raises his hands to the sky, exhorting the spirits to restore them. "Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe into them!" He calls out, and the desert wind responds in a mighty healing gust. Wounds seal up in an instant, and the fatigue and aches of combat vanish in the rush of positive energy.

Musa casts Mass Heal, everyone in the party regains 190 HP. Should put everyone at full.

While Musa called out for the spirits to bless his new allies and himself with the most powerful of rejuvenating magic, did Qvan present his first and last ultimatum to Ibhris. The tortoise craned its neck around and looked at the menacing draconic visage looming over it and it was not pleased at what it saw. Being a mage of quite some power and skill in his own right, Ibhris realized that there was not much that he could do while trapped in this animal form. The dragon spoke truthfully and it would be easy for Ibhris' several enemies to crush him right then and there without any real effort.

The man watched as the various intruders stopped bleeding, ghastly wounds tore open by the infernal swarm of flies knitted back together, being replaced by healthy flesh, bones fusing back together and moments later they all looked fresh and completely uninjured. This was the moment when Ibhris realized that he indeed stood no chance and decided to follow the demand. Releasing the artifact, the Shroud of Flies materialized next to Qvan on the blood-splattered floor of the chamber. Crystal baubles that resembled insect wings lined the edge of this luxurious but fraying cloak and a pall of sickly, green light seeped from it.

---

!Encounter is over!

Rictor groaned as the healing wave of magic washed over him. It was nothing compared to the agony of a shattered clavicle, but the very odd sensation of healing magic always disconcerted him. There was the painless but very strange sensation of his bones shifting about under his skin as splinters of shattered bone slid back into place and knitted instantly. He shuddered as he pushed himself back to his feet and slid his sword back into its scabbard.

"Thank you, I'm indebted." He said with a deep bow to Musa. A fortuitous mystery, that a man of such magical might should join them in their hour of need.

He was working his shoulder around experimentally in a wide circle as he walked up to stand below Qvan's massive form. He stayed several paces away from the Shroud. The horrible magics that imbued it--and if Sayid was correct the ancient daemonic presence indwelling--was best left to minds far cleverer than Rictor's.

Instead he strode to where Qvan was likely to deposit the perfidious Ibhris once he was released from his form twisting enchantments. He drew his sword and idly slanted it over one shoulder, ready at an instant's provocation to bring it down in a slashing arc should the wanderer attempt any magical trickery.

"We have some questions for you." He said, his words heavy with dark intent.

Qvan was glad that his ultimatum had been received with logic, and that Ibhris had decided not to make things more difficult for himself. He saw the Shroud of Flies materialise on the floor, and was left in awe for a moment. The pure malevolence that emanated from something chick otherwise looked like just another elaborate piece of garment was heart-chilling. In his current shape though, cold did nothing to him.

The dragon deposited the Tortoise gently on the sand, right next to Rictor. He stepped back. He was a man of his word, but not a fault. Ibhris has released the artefact, and thus would be returned to his natural shape, but there was no hurry for this to happen.

Qvan abandoned his draconic shape and resumed that of a tall elderly wizard, before saying:
  “The moment he is human again, he stands just two words from teleporting out of here and to his demonic masters. Let us not be foolish. We have means to communicate with him still.”

 Turning to the Tortoise, he added:
  “I gave you my word, and I shall be true on it. You won’t spend the rest of your life in this shell. As soon as this curse is dealt with, you will return to your human body.”

---

Can anyone cast Speak with Animals?
Or some form of Telepathy?
Otherwise I can get the ouija board out

Zhira frowned, then asked, in a serious tone:

"Isn't there magic that can stop teleportation? With all that we need to learn, we'd do better with having access to human speak."

OOC: basically, wouldn't Dimensional Anchor make for a better solution to keeping the man there? With a combination of that and keeping him grappled, which I'm sure several of us could do, I don't think we'd need to worry too much about escape.

 Qvan understood Zhira's concern. Communicating with a Tortoise was not going to be an easy task. He summarised thus:
  "I find the risk too great. We can try something though."

 He turned to the others and said very clearly:
  "It is going to sound a bit stupid, but if the Tortoise utters anything which resembles an incantation, hit it in the throat really hard. That should make it swallow any spellcasting back."

 It took a moment of concentration for Qvan to prepare the appropriate spell, and then he cast it. The Tortoise was imbued with the gift of Tongues, the angelic ability to speak and understand all languages.

  "All yours..." he said to Rictor, leaving the negotiation to others for a moment.

---

prepare and cast Tongues

Rictor barked a laugh.

"I can commune with animals. Of any sort." He said with a sharp glance at Ibhris. It was actually more difficult for Rictor to maintain his anger with the traitorous dog in this innocuous form.

"But my power is expended, I'll have to wait until tomorrow to question him. Since we plan to camp here that isn't...ah, fantastic."

He squatted down next to the transfigured and speech imbued mage. He had many questions, but for now they fell to the back of his mind. This curse had brought ruin on a friend and ally, and as nefarious as he may have been his blood kin was missing.

"Where is Dehvlat Aaban?" He asked sternly.

The tortoise glanced up at Rictor through squinted eyes, the simple expression on its wrinkled face unreadable. As soon as Qvan gifted Ibhris with the ability to speak once more, he immediately started babbling, ignoring the question Rictor had just asked.

"Listen, big guy, I'm sure we can come to some mutual beneficial arrangement here. You have revealed my ruse and beaten me and my associate, well done and all, and you even have this powerful artifact now that you were after! But I have much to offer you in return as well! The treasure you have found in the other cave is yours, naturally, but I also have a lot of information about what is going on in the Meraz Desert. I'm sure you are wondering what the source of this curse and plague is, right? The Feast of Dust as it is called? I can tell you! You sure look like upstanding citizens and brave warriors who might want to cleanse the lands of the daemonic influence. Imagine the rewards that the satrap will gift you with?! You could rise high in the social rankings in Qadira, the Saviors of Meraz the people would call you! How does that sound?"

Ibhris paused a moment to catch his breath, tortoise head wagging left and right. "But for this to happen you have to give me something in return. I'm fully aware of the fact that you can squash me right here and now without effort. But then you won't get anything. I've already lost a friend when you destroyed my golem and I have not much left to live for, so dying wouldn't be the worst fate. Still, given a choice, I would prefer to keep living for a while longer, and not while being trapped in this shell. So, restore me, assure me that you will not harm me further, and I tell you what I can."

"I am not sure that returning him to human form, able to use the full arsenal of his magic & skills again is a good idea.  Are we sure we cannot determine the information alternatively?  In a manner that doesn't require returning a demon's servant to the wild?" Aryk asked, stretching the newly regenerated skin over his acid burns.

Ibrhis craned his neck around to regard Aryk and seemed to nod once. "I understand your concerns, believe me, but I vow not to use my spells to retreat. At least not until I have fulfilled my end of this potential bargain. And I'm aware that giving you my word will not likely convince you that I'm being honest. But what assurances do I have that this dragon here won't simply step on me once I have revealed my knowledge? I don't know who you people are and from what I can glean none of you would lose any sleep over my untimely death."

Ibhris was silent for a long moment, apparently considering his next words carefully, then said in a more subdued tone, "I was already betrayed by that snake Dehvlat Aaban back when, why should I expect any different now?"

Musa watched the turtle carefully. In his new body, it was hard to read the man's face, but the voice never lied. "Do you promise to cooperate fully, not to leave, not to attack, not to lie to us, but to tell truthfully and honestly all that you know?" He asked

08:25, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 37 using 1d20+17.  sense motive.

The turtle looked a bit perplexed by the phrasing of Musa's demand and question and it took Ibhris a while to respond. "Not quite. While I'm willing to not attack you or leave right away, as well as tell truthfully what has happened between me and Dehvlat  during our time in Dimayen, I'm not ready to share all my deepest, darkest secrets with you lot, especially those that have nothing to do with the Feast of Dust or the blade that we stole. And 'cooperate fully' simply leaves too much room for interpretation for my taste, so I cannot simply agree to such a demand. I don't trust you not to weave a hidden spell into such a formal sounding demand!"

Zhira chuckled, clearly darkly amused by what was going on, even as she limited herself to merely leaning on a wall, clearly wanting to leave the interrogation to those more skilled in it. Still, she found it in herself to comment to the turtle, in a dark tone:

"This curse has caused widespread death and destruction in Dimayen, and if left unchecked, it would risk the destruction of all of Qadira; stopping it is the only thing anybody with any affection at all for our land would do. Anybody who knew anything of it and did not immediately did all they could to prevent its spread is, to my eyes, nothing more than the lowest scum; I would not believe a word out of your mouth unless you managed to persuade me you understood the truth of what I just said, and showed with actions that you have the good of Qadira as your only priority. That you instead demand payment before having proven worthy of it is just shameless. But then again, it's not me you need to persuade; you should be thankful for that."

It was clear that, in the former soldier's opinion, she had no expectation at all that the man would be able to prove himself guiltless in such a manner; the disgust she held for him was clear for anyone to hear.

"All right then turtle, fair enough." Musa said with a laugh. He turned to the others. "I know you do not know me, but I say let us trust him, just a bit. We need to know what he knows, and we have already proven he was no threat to us even with two allies. They are both dead, I do not think he will try again."

Ibhris scoffed at Zhira's words, if a sound like this would be possible for a tortoise to make and he almost smirked as he responded, "Lady, I'm not trying to convince you that I'm some good-hearted hero in disguise or that I repent what I have done and vow to better myself from here on out. No. I could care less about what happens to Dimayen or even Qadira and even less about your personal opinion of me, but that is not what our deal is about. You agree to let me live, I in turn agree to tell you what I know about the Jackal Prince of Famine. That's all. You can at least trust in my desire to continue living on in human shape and not suffer an ignoble death as a base animal. So I will give you the answers you seek."

The tortoise then started to make a noise that sounded close to an amused cackle as Ibhris went on. "And don't start talking about shame, my dear. I have left any and all of those useless feelings behind me long ago. You usually only get one life on this world and trying to keep to high morals or be weighed down by unnecessary emotions like guilt or shame is simply wasted effort. You will not get far with me, preaching about that."

Zhira didn't look fazed at all, offering a most wry smile as she answered:

"As I said, I didn't expect you to. I've met your type dozens of times before, arrogant magicians with no respect for propriety, and every time they lecture me about their superiority and my supposed failings. They all seem to think their ability of messing with the laws of reality somehow means they are above those laws, rather than merely showing the gods' willingness to make such possible, and how, by using it selfishly rather than to help others, they failed the test the goddess put forth to them."

She shook her head, crossed her arms, and concluded:

"Somehow, much as they all claimed me inferior, and themselves superior, I am still here, and they are not. Think on that, if you will; I have no more to speak of with the likes of you."

 Qvan had abandoned his draconic shape, partly to recover his normal voice, party to reduce the size difference between him and the turtle. Obviously he was still towering the small reptilian by a wide margin.

 He started by commenting:
  "So it is, Dehvlat betrayed you... fitting, I suppose."

  "I understand your reservations about promising things loosely, and you are right that I would not lose sleep over your death, or your lifetime as a Tortoise for that matter."
 "I would not allow however my honour be besmirched by not holding true to my word. I promised I would return you to your human shape when this is over, and I will. I can add that I shall not harm you, or allow anyone to do so."

 The old wizard crouched by the Tortoise and explained:
  "You may not know me, and it is true we did not introduce ourselves. Let me correct that. I am Qvan Ibn Hamid, Headmaster of the ASICS Academy. The stern warrior is Sir Rictor Wyrmbane, heir of Alkir. She is Zhira Al-Darea, Ex-Lieutenant of the Qadiran Army, and this one is Aryk, Psi Warrior of the Conclave of the Eye. This one is a wanderer called Musa, and I cannot really speak for him."
 "Yet," he added with a wink to the Suli man.

 He stood up and stretched his arms wide, smiling genuinely.
  "All this is to say that we are honourable people, and I could not have the respect of my associates if they thought I am not true to my word. You could think this is all a ploy to get you to speak and leave you to eat lettuce in my garden for the next forty years... but I think you know a conman when you see one, and you can tell I am not. In fact you know we are the ones weighed down by unnecessary emotions like guilt or shame..."

 Qvan lifted his silk robes to sit next to the Tortoise. He reached into his satchel and got a stick of liquorice root. He started chewing on it, and offered one to Ibhris. He said in conclusion:
  "Just start talking, and it will all end well."

---

   Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 52 using 1d20+32.  diplomacy
   Now isnt't that a nicely timed natural 20?

Rictor wanted nothing so much as to bat the little tortoise around the cavern until his shell rattled and hang him upside down until he spilled out all of his secrets. But Qvan had given Ihbris clemency, and Rictor knew that his own actions would reflect on the old mage's honor.

And yet...

Ihbris was talking in circles. He claimed to have a tale to tell concerning Dehvlat and their theft of the sword. He claimed deep knowledge of the Jackal Prince and the famine striking Katapesh. But so far every word out of his beaked little mouth had been an equivocation, a plea, or a promise. He hadn't answered one of their questions.

He straightened.

"Qvan." He said loudly. "Will you be able to return him to his human form if he is dead? Ah, then your honor will be satisfied."

He placed the heel of his foot on Ibhris's shell and leaned. Not quite hard enough to crack the keratin atop and the spine beneath. Quite.

"You have had your say, villain. You have had Master Qvan's promise to return you to your human shape, which I have no doubt that he will do whether or not you survive my questioning. Now." He leaned forward a bit more.

"I am going to as you a QUESTION. If the next words out of your mouth are not an ANSWER, if they are another bargain or another promise, I will crush you on the floor of this cavern. If you answer all of my questions to my satisfaction you will walk from this place a free man.

We'll start simply.

What is the present location of Dehvlat Aaban?"

  "No," Qvan simply replied to Rictor's preliminary question.
  "I won't be able to return him to his human shape if he is dead, and that is exactly the kind of superficially clever shenanigans I will not condone."

 The old wizard was clearly not happy with the suggestion, or with the good cop / bad cop rhetoric.
  "We will get information from Ibhris..." he said turning to the Tortoise, and his eyes were saying "won't we?".
  "And for this to be reliable, it can't come from iron boots leaning on his back."

 He looked up to Rictor this time. He did not like that his promise to not harm the Tortoise was already betrayed. Unless this was just an act to show how true to his word he really was, in which case he would have to admire how well the Prince played  the part.

Ibhris was visibly taken aback by the formal introductions Qvan had offered moments ago, clearly recognizing several of the names mentioned, most of all the one of the wizard himself. The assurance and word of Qvan Ibn Hamid was apparently enough for the treasure hunter and con man to accept and divulge the information he promised, Rictor's more physical insistence only hastened the words that were now spilling forth from the tortoise's mouth.

"Very well, listen then to my tale and be content that this will be all I know. I arrived in Dimayen some three months ago, just another godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere. Back then I had no real plan where I was heading or want I wanted to do next, so I stayed in town for several days, enjoying the local wine selection. During this time I made the acquaintance of Dehlvat Aaban, son of the city’s bookkeeper and store owner, Sayid Aaban.

Dehlvat shared none of his father’s interest in what he called musty old scrolls and foolish superstitions, but I had learned over my years of searching for treasure in all manner of ancient tombs and forgotten sepulchers that something like he described can hold much promise and I was quite interested in learning more. One evening, while more than a little inebriated and eager to impress his new companion, Dehlvat bragged to me about his father’s collection of desert artifacts. Now we were talking! Immediately I saw profit on the horizon and started to invest in and cultivate a close friendship with the young man. I eventually managed to convince the gullible youth that his father’s collection must be worth a king’s ransom.

After a particularly bitter argument with Sayid, Dehlvat finally stole his father’s research as well as the Ravenous Blade and fled into the desert with me, just as I had planned. Unfortunately that is when my plan went awry in the most horrible way. The idiot had no idea what a powerful artifact he was holding and, without consulting me first or at least exercising a little bit of caution, broke the seal on the blade. You must know that the weapon was used as a sort of prison for the spirit of a powerful daemon called the Jackal Prince of Famine, bound within millennia ago.

So when Dehlvat broke the seal on the Ravenous Blade, everything that remained of the Prince rushed into him, feasting on his greedy young soul and restoring the harbinger’s mind in the unfortunate mortal’s body, erasing the old one and replacing it with the daemon's own presence. After explaining what just happened, the bastard simply turned around and left me standing there, gaping in astonishment and, I admit, a little bit of fear. I tried halfheartedly to persuade him to let me accompany him, at least for a while, but would have none of it. Though, that is maybe for the best. While I'm generally not concerned about who gets hurt in my pursuit of riches and power, working together with a powerful daemon might be a bit much even for my tastes.

So I was on my own again. At least I had learned the location of another Oblivion Key from the extensive research that Sayid had kept in his store and I made my way to Blood Rise Rock. Here I happened upon the stone golem you have seen and destroyed and took control over it. Inside these caves I also found the Shroud of Flies and learned its properties, mainly the ability to temporarily cure the afflicted and cursed. From there on out, and with the Feast of Dust spreading in the desert, it was not too complicated to attract the desperate and hopeless with the promise of aid. The Great Scarab was also a simple invention to invoke a bit of awe and respect in all of those fools who visited me, readily offering their coin and treasure."

The tortoise shot Rictor a burning glance as Ibhris finished his story. "I don't know where Dehlvat, or what is left of him, is nowadays. The Jackal Prince, in his new mortal shell, walked away from me into the desert night and that was the last time I saw him. He did not explain his plans to me or really much anything at all, except for who he was. But, judging by the accursed who are running into the Meraz under the influence of the curse, it would seem he gathers mortals for something. Sacrifices maybe? Always a safe bet with fiends and daemons in particular."

Rictor's face was a thundercloud and that old, cold rage sat in his core like a bright knife that sliced his soul whenever he shifted. But he lifted his foot and retreated to the back of the cave. He would not break Qvan's word. But, most shamefully, he felt that he couldn't trust his own impulses.

His hawkish ears heard every croaked word though, and he taped a thumb against his chin. The tale painted Ibhris as a simple charlatan and opportunist drawn into a greater plot by the unfortunate Dehvlat. His characterization of himself as a simple con man Rictor more than believed based on what they had found at the Rock. But he was cautious to believe any man whose own account exculpated himself without independent verification.

He was about to chime in but blanched and then retreated. He would not break Qvan's lease, in word or in deed. The leather hilt of his sword creaked as his grip tightened on it.

Well, true or false, the material fact remained that they had possession of the Shroud. Rictor was still dubious about the proposition, but they were poised to do as Sayid had suggested. To commune with the Horseman bound therein and enlist aid against the Jackal Prince.

"I am interested in hearing more of the powers of these artifacts. The Shroud of Flies and the Oblivion Keys? Perhaps the others know what these are, but I would like to hear what you know. You mentioned that the shroud can temporarily heal afflictions, have you confirmed that? Does it have any downsides, or limitations in its uses?"

The tortoise grimaced at Musa's words and waddling turned around to look up at Qvan, it's dark eyes burning with indignation and demand. "I have told you my story and spent more than enough time in this wretched form. Return me to my true self, Hamid, now!"

 Qvan listened to the tale, raising his eyebrows at regular intervals as the Tortoise painted himself in an advantageous light – at least that was his perception of it. He sighed when he mentioned the Ravenous Blade, how it was stolen, and how its power was unleashed. His shoulders sank a bit, he looked older than usual, and older than he had looked just minutes before.

 He listened to Musa carefully, thought the question pertinent even if he could have partly answered it. The reaction of the Tortoise did not surprise him, even if it was illogical. His promises to the magician had been very clear.

 He noted Rictor's tension as he retreated away, and decided that was a more urgent matter to attend.
  "Carry on talking, we'll see about your transformation later. I never promised it would be today. It could still happen though, I'm not sure I can be bothered with keeping custody of you."

 The old wizard walked to the prince, and placed a hand on his shoulder to ease his tension.
  "Rictor..." he said with a warm smile.
  "I'm sorry I put you in this position. I admire your restraint, I hope you find some serenity in our quest."

  "Your method would have yielded results, I'm sure... but I'm concerned about leaving a bitter wizard behind us," he added by way of explanation, hoping there would be no hard feelings between them.

Ibhris grumbled to himself as his demand to be restored fell on deaf ears and the tortoise sat down on the floor, getting a bit more comfortable seeing as he might be stuck in this form for quite a while longer yet. In an almost bored voice he continued to answer Musa's question then.

"Yes, I can confirm that it works, did it countless times over these past couple of weeks. The wearer of the Shroud of Flies can brush another creature with the shawl to remove all lingering effects caused by a disease, poison, or curse, quite similar to some divine spells. But these effects are not eliminated, only postponed, and return immediately with increased intensity after one week. Furthermore, any being embraced in this way could also be infected with a new disease, either blinding sickness, cackle fever, devil chills, or leprosy."

Ibhris sighed and, somewhat reluctantly, added, "So yes, I might have taken advantage of the relic, told those who came to me that they were fully healed and taken their money in return. But at least they had a glimmer of hope and a few days of being hale and sane before succumbing to the Feast again, so I didn't screw them over completely. Also, the Shroud is one of the Oblivion Keys. That's what the set of artifacts were called that were used to imprison the four daemonic harbingers back in the ancient past of the Meraz."

Zhira scoffed at the turtle's words, clearly being in no way surprised at the wizard's admission of duplicity, falsely claiming to be curing a plague while helping spread both it and multiple others for nothing more than monetary gain. Then she turned toward Qvan and said, her tone respectful:

"Master Qvan, do you think there might be a relation between the powers these artifacts grant, and the manner by which the creatures within are imprisoned? Maybe some way to use that knowledge to replicate the rituals that created these artifacts in the first place? Or any other way in which knowledge about the artifacts could be converted into knowledge on how to best accomplish our goals?"

Aryk reached to place a hand of his old friend's shoulder, but Qvan beat him to it.  instead, he gazed down at the transformed thing on the floor.  All things considered, the man was dangerous, powerful, and the worst kind of predator, one's who's chosen prey were the weak and sick and needy.  Given what they had observed and what he inferred, he would just as soon kill this thing and be done with it, never to worry about the man's work again.  But Qvan had given his word, and he was a man whom Aryk greatly respected.  He would not, could not cause  Qvan's word to be broken or diminished.

"You are lucky Qvan made a pact with you, Beetle.  Prince Rictor is not the only one here to believe that leaving you alive is a travesty of justice.  That said, I will not tarnish his name and his word."

He then looked up as the former soldier spoke.

"Intriguing.  There is great power within them, perhaps there is a way to use that to our advantage.  Perhaps not though..."

 Qvan considered Zhira's question with attention, and explained in his all too common and well practiced professorial tone:
  "It is evident that over the long time that the daemons were bound within each relic, their very essence started to corrupt them. Each Oblivion Key would have  appropriated some aspects of the individual harbinger... This in itself won't be helpful in achieving what you are alluding to, at least not within our limited time available..."

 "The Shroud of Flies –just like the other two keys with unbroken seals– should still contain the presence of one of the harbinger, albeit in subdued form. Wielding it and actively trying to communicate might be possible and would give us if not answers at least a information."

 The wizard mused for a moment and added:
"I'm sure you would ask, and I am rather certain that a brief contact with each relic should not prove dangerous. At least not to someone like us. I would not trust a simpleton with it though, or one with seeds of evil in their heart."

 The old man gracefully ignored the Tortoise for the time being. He would have to deal with that situation later, but other matters urged more.

---

Apologies, I was sort of waiting for a response from Rictor.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:39, Sat 07 Nov 2020.

Zhira frowned, then motioned to the turle.

"Wouldn't he already have had chance to contact the spirit within then, and perhaps be able to give us the information we need? And while I do not doubt his heart is blacker than coal, surely if he was to be corrupted, he already would have been - might we instead use him for the purpose?"

She paused, then added frankly to the group:

"Not that I would trust a word out of his mouth, but if we have to risk somebody to daemonic corruption, I rather it be him, than risk the immortal soul of any of you; we might not always agree on the means" and she nodded respectfully at Rictor as she said so "but I would think all of us here would do all in their power to save Qadira, and I would not see our land lose the benefit the action of such noble people would surely bring."

 Qvan bobbed his head for a moment, scratching his nascent five-o'clock shade – which given his age and complexion, was more of a sugar drizzle on a cinnamon bun.
  "I'm sure he will have had a chance to speak with the harbinger in some shape or form... whether he has answers for us is an other question, and whether we can trust him, yet another..."

 The old wizard pondered and then said:
  "I suggest we return to Dimayen and seek Sayid's council. We can take this one with us, and give him the dire news about his son. Musa, you are welcome to join us."

 "What do you say?"

Zhira glanced around and asked, to nobody in particular:

"Maybe we should double-check the area to make sure we aren't missing anything that might have been hidden around before we go?"

Ibhris, being close enough to easily overhear the conversation between Qvan and Zhira, turned his tortoise head to gaze upon the shawl still lying untouched on the floor close by and said, "Sure I have been in contact with the Rat Princess of Plague that still resides within the Shroud of Flies. There is not much left of her presence, subdued as she is through the seal on the relic, but she can communicate with the wearer on a basic level, or at least let you know what she wants."

His head swiveled around to look back up at the wizard and the fighter. "After I made myself clear that I will not break the seal on the shroud anytime soon, she was content with me using it for my own purposes for now. I reckon she gained something from touching the infected victims that came to me for help, I didn't care really. This 'partnership' we had was working perfectly well for me, so no need to over complicate things with too many questions and risk my growing fame and fortune."

Ibrhis then stood up and started to slowly walk around, apparently too uncomfortable and annoyed at his situation to simply sit still and wait. "But this brings up a good point. Why have you come here? You mentioned you were searching for the Shroud of Flies, but for what purpose? Do you want to destroy it? But no, that doesn't fit with what were said earlier. The girl asked about 'replicating rituals', so you seek knowledge of the harbinger then?"

Zhira scoffed, and rounded up toward the turtle with a disdainful glare.

"I know the concept is difficult for you to even consider, but I hoped you at least listened to me when I spoke to you. Our purpose is the obvious one that anybody worried with protecting our great nation would naturally go after upon learning of this plague, and the threat it is to all of Qadira. We want to end it and stop it from spreading, destroying the Jackal Prince and his three friends if at all possible, and sealing them all again if not, hopefully in a way that'll keep them from rising again. I'm sure that's unconscionable to you, but for any of us who cares at all about our nation, doing anything less would be insulting our honor, and all we stand for."

Ibhris cackled again in a delighted tone, seemingly enjoying to provoke such responses from Zhira. "Ah yes, acting all heroic and answering the desperate call for saviors, are we? Of course you are! How noble and selfless. Oh, what would the world be like without the likes of you. Hah!"

It took him a few moments to stop chuckling and shaking his leathery head at the absurdity of someone behaving like Zhira did, then he said in a more reasonable voice, "Well, from what I read in Sayid's tomes and manuscripts I can tell you that the four daemonic harbingers were not close friends back in their day, or even allies. More akin to rivals in their attempt to corrupt and deliver as many mortal souls to their respective horsemen as possible. They often resorted to sabotaging the efforts of their brethren and were eagerly taking every opportunity at backstabbing one another if such a chance was given. I would imagine that none of the three trapped fiends would find the thought of the fourth one being free and able to pursue his goals once more a very pleasant one. Especially should they learn that the Jackal Prince has not undertaken any efforts of trying to find and free them for several month now, and most likely never will. They might be rather upset with him."

Zhira nodded along.

"That's not difficult to believe, for such honorless creatures to turn on each other with ease; what I'm doubtful is that their desire to spite each other would be sufficient motivation to actually honestly help us. After all, for lawless creatures like them, or you, honesty is a foreign concept, isn't it?"

She shook her head, her hands tapping the hawk-headed pommel of her scimitar, as she added:

"As for what Qadira would look like without people like me protecting its laws and tradition, I'd expect it'd be a maelstrom of chaotic backstabbing, as many place outside the divine guidance of our Lady Sarenrae are. Luckily, there's far more of us who respect customs and honor than there is of you, and you can be sure that, much like I spent my last ten years hunting down your kind and making sure they don't pollute our land with iniquity, others are out there, doing much the same. You are outnumbered, and will remain so forever; think on that."

Then, Zhira turned her back to the turtle, clearly uninterested in arguing with Ibhris any further.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:00, Mon 09 Nov 2020.

Rictor had been pacing since his outburst. Qvan was right. Zhira was right. And, in his own twisted little way, Ibhris was right. Rictor had come with high minded ideals. Great plans to swoop in on his snowy griffon and save the land. No. That wasn't quite right. He had come to atone. Not for what he had done. But for what he had become. Gods, he had nearly crushed a helpless man underfoot simply because he didn't like his tone when answering questions.

He had to return his thinking to the basics. What were their needs? What were their goals?

Their original reason for coming to this place was to make contact with the dark Horseman dwelling within the Shroud. To seek its aid against the unleashed Jackal Prince. Could they defeat the Jackal without dark aid? He did not know. Qvan, Musa, Vahid, all were wise masters whose expertise would be indispensable in defeating the Jackal and ridding the land of his curse. They could not be risked.

For all his strength of arms, when it came to wielding the magics that could rid the land of evil for good only the casters had a chance of facing the might of the Horsemen. He was doughty and stout hearted. But in truth all that he provided to their company was a quick arrow placed on target more often than not. He was, in a word, expendable.

He stood. Brushed off his knees.

"Search the store rooms for weapons or items that could aid us in our quest. The treasure, give to the suli and the giants to help them combat the ravages of the curse. And stuff him in a sack." He said, leveling a finger at Ibhris.

Then he strode forward, snatched up the Shroud of Flies, and in a single whirling motion settled it about his shoulders. He screwed up his face and listened. And ventured, in his mind, a tentative though.

<Hello?>

As soon as Rictor had grasped the Shroud of Flies and draped it around his broad shoulders he could feel a lingering presence within the artifact, absolutely corrupt and evil to its very core. The presence of the Rat Princess of Plague immediately made contact with the warrior's mind and soul, flinching back in disgust at first as it realized the strong will and good heart that it found within this mortal body. It didn't respond to Rictor's careful question, instead started to read his surface thoughts in an attempt to find out more about this new wielder of the shawl.

The party required more aid and knowledge in their quest to confront and ultimately deal with the Jackal Prince, so Rictor did not block the presence from finding out about the general events that had transpired over the last few months in the Meraz Desert. In reaction to this discovery, the prince could feel anger and indignation rising up as a wave of emotions from the relic, and a moment later the broken wisps drifting around the Shroud congealed into the form of a petite, rat-faced woman.

“That wretched dog runs lose,” a high-pitched voice echoed through the room. “And dares leave me bed-bound and convalescing, hidden away in this dark hole for all eternity? Bring me forth to my gnawing brother, that I might embrace him. Bring me and I shall bind his limbs and shatter his bones!”

The wisps dispersed again and the picture of the Rat Princess with it. It seemed that this direct interaction with the world outside of the artifact took quite a toll on the daemon as Rictor could feel her presence retreating deeper into the recesses of the Shroud, diminished for now.

---

You guys have explored and discovered all available rooms in this cave system and with it all contents as well. So there are no weapons or other items here except for the monetary treasure found earlier.

 Qvan was a bit taken aback when Rictor decided to put on the Shroud. Firstly it would do nothing for his high waistline, and secondly he did not have the complexion to pull it off. But more importantly, he was a troubled man craving serenity and self-control, in other words not the ideal candidate to converse with a Demon.

 His sheer willpower was not in question though, and he was a Champion of Good if there ever was one. Thus he said naught and waited for the result, his mind already set on a spell if Sir Rictor needed support of any kind.

 The apparition of the Harbinger herself in visible form was a surprise, but the content of the message not quite so.

  "Well I think that is quite clear... wrap the other Harbinger in the Shroud, and she shall bind him again."
  "Or at least, that is what she promises..." he added with a hint of healthy distrust.

  "I agree with Rictor, the coin can go the desert tribes, that they shall help their own. This revelation changes not my view. We should return to Sayid, bring him word of his son, and as for his council."

 The day was gone and part of the night too, so camping at Blood Rise Rock and leaving at dawn was not a bad idea.

---

Although I do have a Greater Teleport in my back pocket if we fancy sleeping in a real bed...

OOC: Zhira obviously wouldn't have any problem with sleeping on rock, and the plan she's about to suggest would naturally consist in using up all the spells you've stored up before going to sleep, so you can refresh in the morning, which would make sleeping at the rock a better way to go about it.

Zhira chuckled at Qvan's and Rictor's words, and commented in an amused tone:

"I so wanted to buy myself a new pair of boots; I guess I'll have to keep waiting for a next chance to do it."

It was clear the warrior was joking, and had no objection to letting the two tribes outside have the money. However, she did turned more serious as she added:

"We probably ought to let them know what sort of scam this man was running; they deserve the truth. And I won't pretend to know what magics you all have access to, but given what we know about magically conjured food delaying the onset of the plague, letting them all have as much of that as we possibly could before we go, as well as instruction on how they should handle treatment, is probably the best we have to offer them."

The dark communion finished, Rictor shrugged out of the cursed garment with a shudder and packed it away carefully. He patted his body from toes to top, horrified that he would find a sprouting tail or rat-like muzzle. When he was satisfied that his contact with the daemon had no lasting effect on him he tried his best to put it out of his mind.

"Wrap the wretch in the cloak, and perhaps when the rat princess has recovered we can ask more questions about the Jackal Prince's weaknesses. My abilities, such as they are, are nearly expended for the day. If we make camp here we can talk with the seeking tribes this evening and give them magical aid in the morning, then return to Sayid. We can seek his guidance, commune again with the Shroud, and form a plan of attack against the Jackal."

Ever practical, he first set about gathering in the tribes camped at the base of the Rock and explaining to them the situation. He claimed a third of the treasure himself, to aid the people of Dimayen, and told Sakargo and Maralet that they could each divide their third among their tribes as they saw fit, although he admonished them that the boon was recompense for the Great Scarab's crimes and was to be used to combat the ravages of the curse.

Then he mounted Alsebet, took a quick scouting turn around the rock in a wide pattern to search for oncoming threats, and if he found none landed, brushed, and bedded down the proud griffon. He wrapped his own cloak around himself and tucked himself under her wing for the night.

"I will tell Maralet what happened here. Perhaps it might be wise for one of you to tell Sakargo though, I doubt he will trust a Suli all that much right now. Maralet is a good leader who wishes to do right by our people. She will not waste this bounty." Musa said with a shrug.

The elegant Suli man then looked over at Qvan. "I thank you for your generous invitation, and I accept. Where you go, I will go, and where you stay I will stay, until we have found and defeated the Jackal Prince."

"I should mention, I have some skill in the art of scrying. I could try and locate this Dehlvat Aaban. It would be more effective if I have a possession of his. Perhaps the dishonorable turtle has some of his old companions effects, or if you know his father and can take us there, that could also be helpful."

Sakargo and Maralet both were naturally rather disappointed to learn of the truth, that the Great Scarab was nothing more than a mere golem assisted with illusions to fool those who are seeking aid, and that the promised cure for the curse was only a temporary solution with severe drawbacks.

Receiving a third of the treasure found within the caves was a consolation price at least, though only a minor one. Maralet will not be able to buy safety from the Feast of Dust and the ravages it might inflict on her tribe, while Sakargo won't receive the divine aid against the savage gnolls of Shadun as she had hoped for; but maybe she could hire some skilled mercenaries instead. Both express their displeasure quite clearly and want to be assured that the person responsible had paid in kind for his crimes and the vile deception, or that he will going to do so very soon.

The leader of the desert giant tribe will ask Rictor during the nightly conversation if he and his companions cannot be persuaded to support them in this endeavor? Maybe after the source of the curse has been taken care of and the Meraz Desert is once again a safer place?

Maralet will offer the assistance of her tribe of Suli if the party requires it to put an end to the Jackal Prince, but judging by the vast gap in power it might make more sense to 'only' have Musa join the group for now, avoiding any unnecessary deaths among the less-skilled tribe members. On one hand Marelt will be sad to see Musa go for the moment, seeing how great an asset he always has been to the tribe, but on the other she can rest more easily knowing that he will devote all of his wisdom and heart to foil the daemon's plans.

In the end, both tribes will leave Blood Rise Rock come next morning to return to their homes, disgruntled and upset, but there will be no further violence between them.

---

There are no other threats in the vicinity, Rictor. It should be safe for everyone to spend the night there.

Unfortunately, Ibhris will not have any personal possessions of Dehlvat to help Musa with his spell.

OOC: assuming it won't take up too much time, Zhira would likely inquire with Sakargo about what's going wrong with these gnolls exactly and what sort of help she's looking for; obviously, Zhira won't be able to provide any until she's solved the problem of the Feast of Dust, but I feel like it'd make sense for somebody like her to line up her next adventure in the middle of the current one. Thus, depending on what she's told the source of the conflict to be, she might well offer to come back and help with it at a later point - assuming she survives facing the Jackal Prince, of course, but Zhira is arrogant enough to believe she will. :)

 Staying at Blood Rise Rock for the night seemed like the best course of action for the time being. Returning to Dimayen should wait until the morning. However sleeping on a questionable mat on the ground of an evil cave was not part of Qvan's plan. Not that he could not do it anymore, if any younger one were to question that part, but we wouldn't do it if it could be avoided.

 He took a moment to prepare the appropriate spell, and then outside drew a rectangle on the face of the bare rock. This instantly turned into a gate, just like he had done the very morning in the outskirts of Dimayen. Those who were there recognised the Magnificent Mansion – it was an exact replica of the first one.

 He talked to the desert tribe leaders:
  "You are all welcome to share supper with us in my abode. I shall name any of your tribe a guest here. The hall will remain open for three days, and can provide magical food and sustenance which will keep the plague at bay in those infected. Use it wisely, and as much as you can. I'm afraid it won't cure anyone, but it can at least buy them some time."

 "The upper floor is off bounds for tonight, but when we depart you and your guests will be able to access the whole mansion."

 The upper floor was a series of rooms which the adventurers who had traveled with the old wizard before would know well. He retired to his study with the Shroud, and invited the others for a last cup of min tea before turning in. The Tortoise was kept in his own nondescript room.

---

prepare and cast Extended Mage's Magnificent Mansion, lasts 72h and provides food for 200 guests all the while.

OOC: Sakargo will tell you the following details, Zhira:

Her clan has tried for generations to claim the ruins of Shadun from the Sat’un gnolls, but never with success, their numbers are just too great and they are too well entrenched in the ruins of the former city.

The Sat’un are a vicious clan. According to legend, these gnolls descended from the Shadun survivors who turned to cannibalism and human sacrifice in the wake of the eruption that destroyed the city; as punishment, these survivors were cursed with monstrous forms. Whether this is true or not, the tribe considers Shadun its exclusive territory, and battles mercilessly with neighboring janni, giants, and suli clans to keep it.

Remember that, according to Sayid, the Handflower of Genocide (another Oblivion Key) should still be found in the ruins of ancient Shadun.

OOC: That's certainly interesting; Zhira would be sure to mention it to the others to get their own opinion. Also, while I'm not sure if a "catch 'em all" approach would be wise in our current circumstance, having a "second opinion" of sort about how to seal the Jackal Prince from whatever entity hides in the Handflower to compare with what we got from the Shroud would leave us less liable to be misled by either, so that's at least something worth considering.

Zhira won't tell Sakargo anything about this or what she knows about the Handflower yet, but she would promise that she'll see if she can help at some point eventually, since even if the group decides that pursuing the Handflower isn't worth it and we end up defeating the Prince without needing to recover it, making sure that it is properly guarded and not left to use for any evil tribe that stumbles upon it would be beneficial to Qadira regardless, and thus Zhira would make sure to see to it eventually.

Aryk nodded at Rictor as he spoke about his communing with the shroud.

"Speaking with it is a necessary evil, but we should of course do so with care.  Such things have a way about them; the ability to twist words and desires, to convince one to do their bidding & making one believe it was their own idea.  Just be cautious old friend."

---

After that, he took his time moving among the two factions, pledging himself to the Sakargo, along with Zhira.  While he generally attempted to avoid generalizing groups, he deeply disliked gnolls; and a chance to both help some in need and strike a blow to gnolls was a double win.  Assuming, that was, that there were any left after they sought out the Oblivion Key located there.

In addition, Qvan's pocket-dimension mansion was appreciated, as it would give him a place to meditate and replenish his mental fortitude.

With barely 12 hours having passed since your departure for Blood Rise Rock, the situation in Dimayen hadn't really changed all that much. The Whitewater Family was still holed up within their compound and tried to ignore the problems of the outside world, people were tending to stay indoors as much as possible as well to minimize the risk of being yet another victim of the Feast of Dust, and there were still afflicted among the citizens who sought shelter at the Shrine of Overflowing Joys. But at least the amount of jackals seemed to have decreased somewhat, with the town guard and the mercenaries killing them or driving them off whenever possible. There was even the corpse of a daemonic shagal lying outside of the Third Circle, half-buried and burnt to a crisp.

Sayid was to be found within his Fabled and Forgotten Bookstore, still cleaning up the mess and destruction left behind by the ransacking fiends and your fight with them. He was feeling better after having had a night's rest and some restorative magic to cleanse the body of all the poisons inflicted to him during his time in the Pit of Punishment.

The day was still young when the company of curse breakers set foot in the perched town again. Qvan had enjoyed a decent night sleep in his favourite bed, and woke up with a sense of pride over what the companions had achieved in just a day.

He pushed the door to the bookshop and found Sayid busy sprucing the place up. They had been rather unkind with the furniture when they battled the demons, but he was not in an apologetic mood about it. He offered some magical and financial support to repair the damage though, but that could wait.
  “My old friend, I come with bad news. Let’s sit for a moment. As you feared, the seals have been broken, and the Jackal Prince off Famine is walking our land again. It gets worse though...”

He paused for a moment. He realised what he was about to say would be unpleasant at best for the old bookkeeper. It wasn’t however much worse than a demonic prince on the loose. In fact it was an insignificant speckle of dust in the grand design. However to a father this would possibly be the worst part of it.

He pushed forward the big Tortoise, who was unable to speak again as his spell had worn off.
  “If this one is telling the truth, your son Delvat broke the seals. The spirit of the prince of Famine inhabits him now. I don’t know if he is still alive somewhere in spirit or flesh. Or if he can survive the destruction of banishment of the demon... I’m sorry.”

“Oh I should have clarified, this is Ibhris, the wretched con man who convinced your son to steal the blade. He claims not to be involved in any of the rest, apart from taking advantage of gullible and superstitious desert dwellers. I promised him his life, so I will ask that you do not kill him, but I would leave him in your custody until such time when it is safe for me to release him from this polymorphy.”

He stopped at that, figuring it was a lot to process already. Others could talk about the Shroud.

Zhira nodded along with Qvan's words, then added, in a tone meant to be reassuring:

"If you have anything here that belongs to your son, our friend here" she gestured to Musa "said he might be able to locate him with, which could give you a chance to see what his condition is personally. Perhaps even offer an indication how we might be able to still save him, especially if you happen to have knowledge that might help in the endeavor."

Musa bowed his head in solemn respect as Qvan gave the old man the bad news. Musa did not know either Sayid or Delvat, but he could understand the grief a father would have at the loss of a son, even a wicked son. Perhaps especially such a son. "May you be comforted in your loss." He said respectfully, before continuing. "As Zhira said, if you could give me some possession of his, I will try and locate him. A picture will work. A possession would be better, and some part of his body, a lock of hair or drop of blood would work best of all."

Saiyd was most pleasantly surprised by the early arrival of his old friend Qvan and his companions, most of whom had been present during his rescue from the Whitewater compound. With a slightly exhausted but bright smile, he invited everyone inside and offered to join him in some tea of the local flavor.

After people had been seated and Sayid had poured a cup of tea for each member of the party as well as himself, he finally sat down and cleaned his hands with a colorful cloth. The store owner took a sip from his cup, nodded appreciatively at the fruity taste and only then did he gesture for his old colleague to continue with his tale.

At the news that the seals had been broken on the artifact, he grimaced but nodded slowly, already having expected such an outcome. Stroking his mustache in thought, he gave the ordinary-looking tortoise a curious glance, but did not interrupt Qvan, only sparing the animal a quick glance before focusing his attention back on the wizard.

After Qvan had finished speaking for the moment, bringing the tragic news to Saiyd that his only son might not exist any longer, the father's face went ashen and he continued to stare at, or better through, Qvan for several long seconds. With tears welling in his dark eyes, Saiyd simply whispered, "Foolish boy...had you only listened to my warnings," before clearing his throat and coming back to the moment.

"That is..." his voice broke and he had to swallow hard, wiping stray tears from his cheeks. "Thank you for telling me, my friend. I have always appreciated your candor, even if the subject matter is an unpleasant and difficult one." He took a deep breath in an attempt at getting a hold of himself, but the struggle was plain to see on his anguished face.

Sayid's eyes drifted down to Ibhris once more and unquenchable fury blazed for a brief moment in his eyes, but the fire went out almost as quickly as it had appeared. "I'm not someone who will take the life of another, especially of that person is completely helpless, even if he was responsible for my son's death. But don't ask me to shelter him in my home. I don't...no, I can't look upon him," and Sayid forced his gaze away from the tortoise with a grimace of pain and disgust.

He then turned to Zhira and pointed in the direction of Dehlvat's private chamber with a weak, almost uncaring gesture. "There are plenty of his personal belongings still in his room, my lady. Feel free to help yourselves with whatever you deem necessary. But I have no hope that my son is still out there, or can be rescued. Not if the essence of a daemonic harbinger, a demigod of vile power, took over his body..."

His head slowly lowered until the chin rested on his chest and, eyes closed, Sayid began to weep for his son in silence.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:16, Fri 13 Nov 2020.

Zhira nodded sadly at Saiyd's words and answered, tone grim:

"Even so, we shall try all that is feasible to attempt to bring your son back. This, I promise."

Then she glanced at the turtle and said, in a tone that broke no real arguments:

"You heard the man, Ibhris - you'll be coming with us, it seems. You better begin praying for our success and cooperate to achieve it, for I have a feeling that, should we run in something willing to kill us, they'd scarcely hesitate to kill what'd look to them as simply a pet."

Then, with no further words, she headed for Delvat's room, to look for something Musa could use for his scrying.

OOC: Do I need to roll Perception or something to find an applicable item?

OOC: No need, Zhira, there are more than enough personal items within the room for you to retrieve. Musa can assume to have all benefits from items connected to the target of his scrying that are possible.

Musa settled down into a cross-legged stance. "This will do quite nicely. I see no reason why I should not proceed at once." Musa began chanting, and as he does, the sunlight began to refract strangely, like a mirage. It flickers, attempting to resolve into a clear image of Delvat's location.

Unless someone objects, I will cast first discern location, and then greater scrying on Delvat.
Discern location should automatically work unless he has mind blank or something similar, but just gives me his location (place, name, business name, building name, or the like), community, county (or similar political division), country, continent, and the plane of existence.
Greater scrying allows a will save (DC 23) to negate, this counts the bonuses and penalties from having something of his but me only having second-handed knowledge.

Musa concentrated and the image became almost visible. Then it fuzzed and disappeared in a bright flash, having revealed nothing of value. "He has a powerful mind, and the connection is too weak. I do not think that approach will work. Perhaps if we can find some part of his body, and not just a possession. The other was successful though. He is in The Garden of Desolation in The Sunbleached Tower in the Meraz Desert"

Trying to identify where those places are:
17:39, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 38 using 1d20+23.  meraz desert lore.

OOC: Musa will know that the Sunbleached Tower stands 250 miles northeast of Dimayen, and 250 miles southeast of Shadun, deep in the wastes of the Meraz Desert. It is an unmapped corner of the world, the deepest, least hospitable reaches of the Meraz Desert which still drips with the heralds’ corruption. It was part of the four heralds’ original Black Towers and fell into ruin alongside the rest of the building.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:36, Mon 16 Nov 2020.

Qvan was not entirely surprised that the old bookkeeper would choose not to look after the person who was indirectly responsible for his son ‘s dire fate. He was maybe a bit disappointed, or annoyed, as he had no desire to take the tortoise with him. There were other places available though. He decided he would leave Ibhris with Brother Vahid. He was probably better equipped to deal with the wizard if he should somehow weasel his way to a human shape again.

Upon hearing the news from Musa, the old magician stroked his cleanly shaven cheek with the back of his fingers.
“A wicked piece if there ever was one...” he commenced.
“Not at all surprising though, seeing who the enemy is. The harbingers stood at the tower once before...”


Turning to Zhira and her big brown eyes, he asked:
“Do you think we should see to this gnoll tribe problem before we confront the jackal prince? You spoke to the giants last night, didn’t you? Did it seem like something that would be worth our time?”
This message was last edited by the player at 05:59, Tue 17 Nov 2020.

Zhira frowned, then answered "It really depends on how much we're willing to trust the creature in the Shroud."

She waved her hands in a vague manner, then elaborated:

"The Sat'Un gnolls live in the ruins of Shadun, where the Handflower of Genocide is supposed to be held, and they've recently become far more active, according to the giants; unless we think it's a coincidence, that would suggest they retrieved the relic and it's somehow stirring them to a frenzy. If we can get our hands on it, we can interrogate the creature within and the one int the Shroud separately, and make sure they don't trick us; after all, we only have her word that wrapping the Jackal in the Shroud will seal it away again, rather than allowing the Shroud to gain control of him. However, the gnolls have been holding Shadun against enemy attacks for a very long time, so getting past them all might well be very time-consuming, allowing the Jackal more time to increase his power. It's hard to say what would be the best choice, there's a degree of risk to both."

She shrugged, as to indicate she wasn't sure on what the team should do.

Aryk steepled his fingers as he sat, nodding slightly.

"I agree with those concerns, and raise another.  If the gnolls are aware that the giants came to seek help, they may well be reinforcing their positions and preparing for an assault as we speak.  That said, I also believe that assaulting them & retrieving the relic is the next pertinent step.  We need to get as many, all of them really, of these relics out of the wild.  Each one left out grows the enemy's power, and risks opening a new front in our war against them.  The fact that this one is already exciting evil creatures and causing woe to a settlement is proof of that.  In addition, helping this group of giants way very well have other effects farther down the road."

As Aryk said, leaving these relics around is a dangerous thing. We've seen how easy it is for foolish hands to let these things out, I would not like to see what would happen if two of the harbingers were free to cause destruction. I recommend investigating these gnolls.

The old wizard straightened his moustache and pronounced:
“Then it is settled. We shall visit the Shadun ruins, defat the gnolls, and find the relic. Shall we have an hour in town to wrap up and prepare, and then meet back here for our departure?”

Qvan will need to study their destination, and luckily they were in a bookshop.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:43, Tue 17 Nov 2020.

The ruins of Shadun lie far north, nearly 200 miles beyond Blood Rise Rock. A thousand years ago it was a remote desert citadel founded by the Sentinels of Meraz which eventually grew into a thriving city. For a time after the initial appearance of the four harbingers the people of the Meraz knew peace again. But the influence of the Oblivion Keys still drew misfortune to their wealthy community, resulting in the eruption of the twin volcanoes of Zhonar and Zhobl, burying Shadun beneath the sands and ash.

Some of the tomes found in the Fabled & Forgotten bookstore are truly ancient and were salvaged from the ruins of Shadun by the Sentinels, as they hurriedly rescued what they could when they fled the volcanic eruption. According to these books and what Sayid had mentioned before, the Handflower of Genocide, another Oblivion Key remained in the city.

The twin volcanoes Zhobl and Zhonar are both still sporadically active, occasionally belching plumes of ash and toxic gases that devastate local wildlife, making the entire region around the ruins rather inhospitable.

OOC: would some form of check required to confirm the kind of equipment we need to have to ensure the volcanic nature of the place doesn't cause the team undue harm? Or would the standard Endure Element (I'm assuming everybody has some equipment with that in the same way I do) suffice, and this fact be known to us?

OOC: The environmental effects are more a problem if you stay there for a longer period of time. A quick visit (even if it's a couple of days) should pose no issue except for slight discomfort while breathing.

That morning at Blood Rise Rock, Qvan had used a powerful Druidic spell that was familiar to those who had traveled with him in recent years. He had summoned a convocation of eagles, half a dozen of them, of giant proportions, to ferry the adventurers back to the town. The large creatures were not only swift with their wings, but also keen of eyes for any incoming dangers, sharp of talons when hunting was needed, and soft on the back for a comfortable ride. Each could carry one person without slowing it down, and they covered the distance to Dimayen in just a few hours.

After the visit to the bookshop and Sayid, the old wizard paid a visit to Brother Vahid at the field hospital. Seeing as the spell was about to wear out, but a safe haven and magical food would still be needed, he cast it again, this time an extended version which would last for a day and a half.

He checked on the spread of the curse, and spoke with the long whiskers mercenaries, hoping they had no plans for relocation in the immediate future. He had paid a retainer which would keep them free for a few days and hope they would carry on the good work of culling jackals around the town.

Once this was done, he rejoined with the others, and if they had nothing else to do, recommended they left immediately. He summoned the aerie once again, and the giant desert eagles appeared to carry the band across to the land of the two volcanoes.

---

cast Eagle Aerie in the morning (lasts 19h)
 Cast extended Mage’s Magnificent Mansion (lasts 36h)
I think 200 miles should be ~5h with Eagle Airline, so we s going get there by mid afternoon if nothing happens en route.

Zhira was ready to go as soon ad Qvan gave the word, clearly looking forward to what looked like it would a difficult battle. In addition, if no other accommodation for Ibhris the turtle was found, she made sure to carry him along herself, clearly unwilling to let such a dangerous individual unsupervised, even in his currently impaired state.

While Qvan had planned with summoning several majestic eagles to bear himself and his companions aloft and towards their destination, the newest member of the party had a better solution for the journey.

Using his divine powers, the suli grasped the hands of his companions and altered the substance of their bodies to a cloud-like vapor. It took a few moments to get used to this new state of existence, but it hadn't been the first time this useful spell was the first choice for an expedient trip. Very soon after the casting was complete, everyone was already racing through the clear blue skies as a magical wind wafted the wind walkers along northward.

Leaving Blood Rise Rock behind you to the west and flying eventually over high bluffs and vast ash-strewn steppes, you reached the ruins of Shadun to the east of the towering Zho Mountains and the twin volcanoes Zhobl and Zhonar. The air here was thick with dark clouds and constant smoke drifting over from the volcanoes, each breath brought with it the unpleasant acrid taste of brimstone.

Most of Shadun consisted nowadays of only ash-covered valleys, stony bluffs, cooled lava flows, and the occasional ruined tower or collapsed monument breaking through the surface here and there. Dozens of small gnoll guard patrols roamed the vicinity of the ruined city, hunting for the rare wildlife and watching out for intruders of any kind. Overall there must have been around a hundred gnolls outside of the broken walls of Shadun, with many more visible inside. There were also a dozen dig sites scattered throughout the ruins, easily identifiable from a high vantage point, many seemed to have been abandoned only recently.

The most unwelcome sight by far, though, were two gigantic olethrodaemons hovering some 200 feet in the air over Shadun, their many orange eyes keeping the ruins under constant surveillance. Crowned with a wicked array of twisted horns, these wide-mouthed behemoths were the pinnacle of the daemonic race; with the exception of unique individuals of their kind of course. It seemed that the Jackal Prince of Famine did not hold back when it came to bringing this region under his control as well, sending such formidable creatures to enforce his rule.

---

Zhira, we will assume that Ibhris was left in Vahid's care.

Musa had enjoyed the walk through the air. While he preferred the solidity of sand on his feat and the slow meditation of simply walking through the desert, the wind walk was far faster and had its own joys. To be up in the air, that much closer to the life-giving sun was a joy in itself. The wind spirits up in the air were joyful and happy, simply giggling and enjoying life. Several times, Musa had simply burst out into laughter himself at them, no doubt to the consternation of his companions who did not see or hear what he laughed at.

The appearance of the ruins, and most worrying, the Daemons holding court over it ended these playful thoughts. As far away as possible from them, Musa slowed and then stopped, intending to head to the ground. Fighting in wind form was impossible, and it would be best to find solid ground to transform and prepare.

Not sure how far away we are when we first see the Daemons, but Musa will immediately head to the ground, and once there, begin resuming physical form.

OOC: of course, I have no problem with that; I just raised the possibility in case leaving Ibhris with Vahid couldn't be done for whatever reason. I'm perfectly fine with not having the guy along, I just wanted to make sure we didn't leave him unsupervised.

Also, I'd be using my Scout ability to try and get a read on what the daemons are capable of IC; does a 36 tells me anything of worth?

14:50, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 36 using 1d20+18.  Perception Scout.


The moment she saw the gargantuan, monstrous creatures floating in the air, Zhira glared at them with disgust, her eyes glowing golden as she tried to take in any detail she could about them, even as she asked the others, in a grim tone:

"Should we charge in and take those abominations down immediately, or would it be smarter to try and sneak through?"

Her fist, gripped around the handle of her scimitar, made it clear what her preferred course of action would be, even if she didn't state so, clearly willing to abide to a more subtle approach if the rest of the team would favor it.

"I am not much of a sneak, I am afraid. And I favor destroying the abominations." Musa's comment is short and sweet.

Reminder: the wind walk spell takes 5 rounds to return to physical form. In gaseous form, while you do get some defensive bonuses, you also cannot attack at all or cast spells with any components. So I am assuming we are landing and transforming far enough away that we don't get ambushed while transforming back, and then moving onwards either by land or flight if people have the ability.

I can cast Air walk on anyone who doesn't have the ability to fly on their own.

Aryk flexed his hand then drew his sword as his body slowly coalesced.  Whihc he had not experienced this specific spell before, he had a few times astral traveled, and found the experience of his body reforming to be a bit similar to that.

"Those olethros are a powerful foe.  I think it unavoidable that at some point we will have to battle the foes here, which will of course draw them in.  If we are to fight the demons, it would behoove us to pick the time, place and circumstance of that fight.  I believe we should strike first, on our terms."

 The group landed and slowly resumed their tangible shape. Qvan agreed, these powerful demons were too important to be a threat ignored and left behind. A life spent in study of such creatures left him with a pretty good idea of what they were capable of, and how the group could deal with them.

  "It seems we have a consensus. Ignore the Gnolls for now, and take those two behemoths down. I should warn you on a few things... they are surprisingly mobile, walking through the air as if on solid ground and able to burrow through mountains as if through water; they can also teleport at will. They will be very resistant to most attacks, physical or magic, and simply immune to acid. Their claws and fangs are obviously formidable, and their bite will drain your life force... but they also wield strong magic... including the ability to summon other lesser demons. Oh I almost forget – they breath potent negative energy the way dragons breath fire..."

 The wizard then added: "As for their weaknesses, they have none. Apart from being big..."

 "I will assume a flying battle shape. Zhira I know you like your mobility but in this instance I reckon a giant shape would be appropriate..."

---

Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 37 using 1d20+34.  know the planes: olethrodaemons.

Ext. Shapechange, Ext. Freedom of Movement, Ext. Barkskin, Mage Armor.

Then Polymorph Any Object to turn Zhira into a Huge Giant (Sun) 
This message was last edited by the player at 17:44, Fri 20 Nov 2020.

"That is useful to know. We should try and surround the enemies then, to avoid bunching up and providing a single target for that breath." Musa said before beginning his own preparations.

He stood up, gazing straight into the blazing sun overhead, and the sun seemed to shine down strongly upon him, making him glow. Soon it became apparent that Musa really was glowing, brilliantly bright. "Do not approach to close to the sun, lest you also be burned. He warned the others. Then with a few more words, Musa again takes on the aspect of Celestial perfection, and even his sword begins to glow.

EDIT: Cast Weapon of Awe, Air Walk on Zhira.
Cast: Air Walk, Freedom of Movement on self (and Air walk on anyone who asks). Cast Weapon of Awe on the Falcata.
Activate Luminous Form revelation, granting blur (20% miss-chance) and anyone who ends their turn adjacent to me must make a fortitude save (DC 26 or be blinded for 1d4 rounds, on a success they are still blinded for 1 round).
Finally, cast Quickened Divine Power, Divine Vessel, and move action to gain:
Dedicated Adversary (olethrodaemons), critical focus and staggering critical.
Then I will dimension door everyone over (I'm large, so I use my 10 feet of natural reach to allow me to touch the rest of the party without blinding them.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:36, Fri 20 Nov 2020.

OOC: Any other preparations from Zhira or Aryk before being 'teleported' over to the first daemon?

Also, everyone please make sure to have your combat stats updated to reflect all these buffs!

OOC: I will update the thread as soon as this post is made, now that it's decided that it will work and how.

Also, yes I have preparations to make. Specifically: using the first round to draw my scimitar and shield, then the following round to activate Warrior Spirit (standard action) and Animate my shield (move action); hopefully that'll work fine.

For warrior Spirit, I get to add 6 to a weapon that is already +4, which means it ends up being +5 Bane (Daemon Elemental) Holy Leveraging Training (Big Game Hunter). Naturally, going from Medium to Huge also means my weapon damage dice grows from 2d6 to 4d6, which is going to make my Vital Strike inflict some scary damage.

Zhira drew her weapons, then let go of the shield to focus on the scimitar in her hand, making it glow with golden light as she called her power on it; meanwhile, Qvan's magic made her grow over twenty feet in eight, her bronze skin taking on a metallic sheen while her black hairs turned crimson, flashing like liquid fire as they caught the light.

After the planning phase was over and all possible preparations had been made, the party gathered around Musa and his towering angelic form to be transported over the vast distance and right next to the gargantuan fiend hovering above the ruins of Shadun. And while the Olethrodaemon was ever-vigilant and spent each waking second fulfilling the command it was given to be on the lookout for intruders or any other trouble, the sudden arrival of the combat-ready group of adventurers still took it by surprise!

---

Qvan, didn't have your Sprite stats yet, so let me know what those are.

The entire party is up next!





This message was last edited by the GM at 17:52, Tue 24 Nov 2020.

 Qvan had changed shape to be as inconspicuous as possible against the bright skies. A diminutive luminous fairy would do the trick.

 He appeared at the back of the group, and following the tactics agreed with Zhira, summoned a wall of force to cut the demon's retreat, at least temporarily.

---

Cast Wall of Force – Going from H to P 24, 20ft tall
 5ft step to I10.   
This message was last edited by the player at 11:49, Wed 25 Nov 2020.

Posting for Rictor

 They had the advantage over the Demon, but not for long. Rictor was not one to waste an opportunity and charged forward on his flying steed... but his misjudged the distance and his blade caught nothing but thin air.

---

Standard: charge to L17
 Qvan Ibn Hamid rolled 33,23 using d20+32,2d4+17.  charge big demon.
 Well... one standard action and it's a fumble.
 Maybe I shouldn't volunteer to play for others.

Zhira grinned, the golden glow of her scimitar casting flashes on her newly red hairs, as she said to herself in an amused tone:

"Let's see how though you actually are, abomination."

Then, without hesitation, she jumped forward, using the air as if it was solid ground and a platform for her to bounce up from, bringing her blade down in a devastating overhead chop, clearly aimed straight at what passed for the monster's face.

OOC: Ok, this is going to be entertaining.

As I only have a Standard Action, I'm going to use Locust Pounce to cover the 20 ft separating me from the monsters and attack on landing; this should also grant me 1 tension point for having moved at least 10 ft in a turn.

For the attack I think it's important to point out that my weapon has Bane, granting a +2 enhancement to attack that specifically stacks with the +5, making it a +7 enhancement in total. It also has Holy, which makes it be counted as good for bypassing damage reduction, and the GM granted me that it is treated as silver, so all the damage from this will ignore DR. I'm using Vital Strike, but not Power Attack for this one.

EDIT: back when rolling for the attack and damage, I treated my strength from giant form as only 4 higher then normal, instead of 8 higher, and then forgot 4d6 of damage dice. The numbers below reflect the actual reality rather than my original mistaken math, so they're all higher than what the roller says.

13:01, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 65 using 1d20+46 with rolls of 19. Locust Punch Vital Strike Bane 2h attack.

Oh, wow. Ok, I do believe that 19 is a critical hit on my scimitar even if I don't have keen on it this time, isn't it? So, confirmation roll:

13:03, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 62 using 1d20+46 with rolls of 16.  Critical Hit Confirmation.

Yeah, that's not a 1, so it's confirmed. This one is going to hurt.

Just to recap: my scimitar is two size categories larger, so the damage dice goes from 2d6 to 4d6, and the crit doubles that to 8d6.
Vital strike isn't doubled by the crit, but does take advantage of the increased dice size, so that's another 12d6.
Bane and Holy are 4d6 on top of that. That's a total of 24d6 that I have to roll.

And then I double the static damage bonuses: +16 (2h STR), +6 (weapon training), +6 (Devastating Strike) +7 (enhancement) +2 (big game hunter) and +2 sacred (Weapon of awe)  makes for a total of +39 which is doubled to +78.
I also get Critical Genius (+18) +5 bleed damage (assuming this thing can actually bleed) and my Sarenrae trait (+2 fire damage) on top of that, although those don't double and I imagine the fire damage is going to get ignored, but I can live with that.

So, rolling for damage we get:

13:16, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 200 using 24d6+103 with rolls of 6,4,3,5,5,5,4,3,2,4,3,3,5,6,4,2,4,5,5,4,4,3,5,3.  Vital Strike Crit damage

So that's a pretty nice hit, and due to Weapon of Awe, the enemy is left Shaken. And since I inflicted damage (hopefully), I get 1 tension point, raising my tension total to 2.

Then I use Follow-Through, which lets me make a bull-rush attempt, without provoking attacks of opportunity, adding my full bonuses to it, which basically means the bonuses are the same +46 from the attack roll to start from. I get a further +5 from one of my talents, and the "Leveraging" property on my scimitar doubles the effect of enhancement bonuses, thus adding another +7 in, and then I get the +2 for being of a smaller size - total of 14 extra point for a CMB of +60.

13:28, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 68 using 1d20+60 with rolls of 8.  Follow-Through Bull-rush.

Now, the daemon's CMD is 58, meaning I'm hitting 10 above the threshold; this means it gets moved backwards of 15 ft. Thus, it doesn't hit the wall of force, but is standing just against it; also, successful Bull-Rush means the thing is battered, so until the end of my next turn, it gets -2 CMD and anybody can use Combat Maneuvers on it without them provoking attacks of opportunity, in case anybody wants to try.

And finally, I'm not sure if we can use 5 ft steps in a surprise round, but if we can, I'll have Zhira take a 5 ft step backwards, so that she's 20 ft away from the thing again. You know, so that I can repeat this whole thing next turn, should the need arise. ;)

This message was last edited by the player at 13:32, Wed 25 Nov 2020.

Musa advances steadily on the daemon, sword in hand and eyes implacable. His body is in his angelic form, and in addition continues to outshine the sun. Even looking at him is slightly painful, to stand next to him for long would risk serious eye damage. Using that to his advantage, he positions himself in front of the daemon and opposite Qvan's wall of force, hoping to trap the daemon against the wall and blind it.

Use my one action to move to adjacent to the daemon and avoiding standing next to anyone else, hoping to get it in my blinding aura next turn.

Zhira, don't forget I cast weapon of awe on your scimitar as well. That adds +2 damage, and since you confirmed a critical, the Daemon is auto-shaken for 1 round.

In the very moment the party had crossed the large distance and arrived next to the daemon, both Qvan and Rictor sprang into action. One conjured an invisible barrier of force behind the creature to prepare for Zhira's opening move, the other gripped his blade tightly and charged towards the fiend without hesitation of fear. As it were, Rictor had not that much personal experience with flying and it took him valuable seconds to get used to the unfamiliar three-dimensional movement, causing him to miss with his strike.

Zhira found herself in a strange new skin and body as well, standing far taller than even Musa in his angelic form, flaming red hair falling down her shoulders. But it didn't take her long to make the most of the increased might granted to her and she pounced towards the massive daemon with a challenge on her lips. The holy scimitar, now an even more potent and lethal instrument of battle in her hands, came down on her opponent, carving a deep gash in the fiend's leathery flesh without resistance. A follow-up blow managed to sent the Olethrodaemon careening backwards, much to its astonishment.

Musa strode forth confidently, shining like a second sun that just had appeared in the sky above Shadun, with no doubt in his mind that they would prevail even against such a dangerous foe. With each step through the air his aura increased in intensity until it became too much to even glance upon him.

---

Zhira, you can indeed take a 5-ft step in a round when you do not move otherwise, even during surprise.

Waiting for Aryk!

Prior to combat, Aryk casts Inevitable Strike (1 pt. as std action, +20), Battle transformation (10 pts, +3), and Force Screen (5 pts., +5).

---

"Well, let's get to it then." Aryk said.

With that he popped up into the air, and channeled his mind into the mind of the creature, for only a moment, trying to disrupt it's ability to ward off attacks.

---

Manifest Brutalize Wounds.  Will save vs. a 23 to reduce effects.

https://www.d20pfsrd.com/alter.../b/brutalize-wounds/

Telepathically connected as the two daemons were, the second one was immediately aware of the sudden attack against its brethren and did not waste any time transporting its humongous bulk over the several hundreds of feet to appear in the back of the party.

The injured olethrodaemon shook itself violently as it tried to recover from Zhira's brazen and quite effective attack, bellowing a roar of pain and anger out into the ash-filled sky of Shadun. It then converted some of the life energy it had consumed over the course of its existence into a potent breath weapon. Jaws yawning wide, it unleashed a cone of shrieking black smoke and wind that washed over everyone except for Musa in an attempt to drain the very life from your bodies.

---

Aryk, the olethrodaemon succeeded on the Will save against Brutalize Wounds, but first you would have needed to make a Power check against the SR of the fiend (as psionics and spells will work under the same general rules).

Everyone, be aware that both daemons have a permanent Unholy Aura effect on them, so if a good creature succeeds on a melee attack against them, the offending attacker takes 1d6 points of Strength damage (Fortitude DC 29 negates)!

The entire party is up next!

Aryk, Qvan, Rictor and Zhira need to make a DC 29 Reflex saving throw, taking 130 negative energy damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful one!

Musa lifts his sword in challenge, and swings it down, beginning a vicious all-out attack. His body still glowing brilliant white with the sun, he swings his falcata in brilliant arcs of power, hacking through the tough daemonic flesh.



Full Round Action: Full attack the daemon. It ended its turn next to me, so unless its immune, it should be blinded (-2 to AC and loses it dex to AC)
Attack bonus: +26 + (7 luck) + 3 (str) - 1 (size) +2 (dedicated adversary) = 33
damage 2d6 + 15 (str) + 7 (luck) + 2 (sacred) + 2 (dedicated adversary) = 2d6+26
11:25, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 46,29,37 using 1d20+33,2d6+26,1d20+22.  attack, damage, fort save (if needed).
11:26, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 44,31,34 using 1d20+33,2d6+26,1d20+22.  #2 attack, damage, fort save (if needed).
11:26, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 45,30,39 using 1d20+28,2d6+26,1d20+22.  #3 attack, damage, fort save (if needed).
11:27, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 37,67 using 1d20+32,4d6+52.  crit confirm attack, bonus damage.
11:29, Today: Musa Agasi rolled 33,38,28 using 1d20+23,2d6+26,1d20+22.  #4 attack, damage, fort save (if needed).
My weapon counts as good, but not silver so it does not bypass DR. If it is not blinded, the first three attacks hit, but the crit confirm and and fourth attack don't, total of 60 damage after DR. If it is blinded and has an AC of 37 or below, I do 67 more damage and it is staggered for 1d4+1 rounds (fort save DC 23 to reduce to one round of staggered). If its AC is 33 or below, I do another 28 points of damage, but also take 2 points of strength damage.

Seeing that her attack didn't seem to have neutralized her opponent, Zhira grinned in an almost manic manner, and commented:

"Oh, so you are a though one, aren't you? Let's see how much more you can take then!"

And then, she once again jumped forward, moving on the air as if it was solid ground, slashing into the beast with her scimitar crackling with energies repulsive to evil spirits and daemons both, and using the momentum from the attack to slam it into the wall of force, before immediately moving away, creating space between them so the monster would be forced to disperse its attacks and be unable to bring its full might to bear.


OOC: So, as said before, I'm Lawful Neutral, so the Olaetrodaemon repulsiveness to good isn't a problem for me (although I imagine it has something to make its chaotic nature relevant). Also, after I hit an enemy, I get a +2 to my saves against that enemy from my Bolstering armor during the next turn. Sadly, as it was, my saves didn't work, and my reroll didn't work either.

16:29, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 28 using 1d20+15.  Reflex Save
16:32, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 23 using 1d20+19.  Reflex Save Tattoo reroll.

This means my HP goes down to 126; that's about half my health burned away just like that. I'll gain 1 tension point from it, which raises my total tension to 3. Also, my save was an immediate action, so I have no Swift Action this turn.

So, given my current distance from the daemon, I'll Locust Pounce again; that's grants me 1 tension point for moving more than 10 ft, raising my total to 4, and allows me to make a standard action attack. As I did last turn, I'll use Vital Strike, but not Power Attack. My bonuses haven't changed, although between Shaken, Battered and possibly, if Musa's aura applied, Blindness, the enemy's should be lower. Anyway:

18:50, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 51 using 1d20+46 with a roll of 5.  Standard Vital Strike Attack

That's an hit even against AC 40, so I should be safe to roll for damage - naturally, this time it's not a critical.

18:55, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 99 using 20d6+39 with rolls of 1,4,4,1,5,1,2,2,5,5,2,2,2,1,5,6,2,6,3,1. Standard + Vital Strike damage

To that, of course, it's necessary to add +5 Bleed damage. Speaking of which, did the daemon took the bleed damage on its turn? It might not be much, but every little bit help against an enemy this strong.

Anyway, since I have inflicted damage to an enemy, that grants me 1 tension point, raising my total to 5.

Next, as is customary for me, I will be using Follow-Through to go into a Bull-Rush; again, while my bonuses haven't changed, the enemy has lower CMD this turn; 2 less due to being battered, and if it's blinded, that's his entire DEX mod removed from the CMD, which I'm gonna bet for a CR20 critter would be significant.

19:02, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 76 using 1d20+60.  Follow Through Bull Rush.

Now, if we assume that the monster is NOT blinded, then it's CMD would just be 56; that gives me a +20 over it, so it would have moved back 5 squares - if there wasn't a wall in the way. Since there is, I get 5 Hammer damage dice, which for a Gargantuan monster is 2d8. So that's 10d8 extra damage, which is what I will be rolling for. That said, if the monster is blinded, I'd be getting an extra 2d8 for every 5 points of DEX mod it loses (so if it has, say, a +10 DEX mod due to 30 DEX, that'd be 4d8 damage more). I'm sure the GM can roll those if it's necessary.

19:09, Today: Zhira al-Darea rolled 38 using 10d8 with rolls of 4,5,5,6,1,5,1,2,5,4. Hammer damage.

This is bludgeoning damage, so it's reduced by DR, meaning the monster takes 28 damage. The Force Wall ALSO takes the damage, not that I expect it to do anything meaningful to it.

And then, I have my move action left!

I'm using the central square among those occupied by my character to determine movement, so I consider to have started my turn in N14, with Locust Pounce moving me to N18. Locust Pounce is extra movement, so I still have my full 85 ft moving speed to spend; that should easily allow me to move down to Z18; that's 60 ft of movement (unless I miscounted something, which should put me just outside the range of the thing's breath (at least, that's my goal here - I'm trusting Zhira would be able to eyeball that and get to the right distance), and also make it harder for either of them to catch multiple of us in the same breath again.

With my tension pool so high, I should probably make a note that I can spend it as a free action to increase my AC, DR or Saves as I see fit even outside of my turn, and thus it might come into play if I'm attacked for any reason (such as if the daemon wastes his Attack of Opportunity on trying to get me before I move away, given that it provokes one). It might also come into play if I'm breathed on again - but I'll bring up the details of that if it comes to it.

And with that, my turn is over; overall not as good as my critical last turn, but 132 damage is still solid enough, I think.

This message was last edited by the player at 23:21, Thu 26 Nov 2020.

The intense light of Musa's celestial form was strong enough to blind most enemies that dared to look upon him, but the many eyes scattered all across the daemon's body unfortunately gave it a distinct advantage against this and it remained in full possession of its visual sense. Musa was able to land several attacks with his glwoing weapon, but he had a hard time actually cutting through the iron-hard hide of the creature, leaving only minor wounds in the end.

With the tremendous amount of success that Zhira just had with her initial rush at the daemon, she simply repeated her series of actions once more. One powerful swing of her enlarged weapon smashed the fiend into the unyielding wall behind it, cracking bones and rupturing flesh. Shoulder lowered, she rushed into the bulbous mass of the monster then to finish her combination, before darting out of reach of what could be another foul exhalation.

---

Musa, just to mention this if you haven't seen it, but I list the AC of the enemies in the table for everyone to compare the attack rolls against. Also, you are of good alignment, would you be potentially affected by the Unholy Aura listed just below this?

Zhira, hadn't included the Bleed damage last round, so your target took 10 damage in total from this so far.

Everyone, be aware that both daemons have a permanent Unholy Aura effect on them, so if a good creature succeeds on a melee attack against them, the offending attacker takes 1d6 points of Strength damage (Fortitude DC 29 negates)!

Waiting for Qvan, Aryk and Rictor!