There was no harm that the spectres could inflict upon her mind, she was the indisputable master of her own psyche.  There was no creature upon heaven, hell, or earth who could violate the sanctity of the near infinite matrices that comprised her divine thoughts.  That did not mean that they were no threat to her, however.  There were many ways that such entities could endeavor to inflict harm upon her that did not involve attempting to violate the sanctity of her mind.

Even the mortals with her could be rendered immune, though at considerable cost to her, and only for a moment.  So she gathered them up about her, speaking low.

"Your magic holds firm.  I will not need long, only a moment to search the ruins of the caravan for what it is I seek.  If it is here, it will c-call to me.  Regardless of my success or failure, we will flee soon, and return home.  Should that which dwells within this valley assault us, I will purge it all from your lines of fate, and we will be away.  Until then, stay close.  Do you all understand?"

Only when she was sure that all would follow her lead, did she begin to search the caravan.  She knew exactly what she was looking for, and she knew that if she could draw close enough she would sense it.

A Celestial Shard.

Preferably?  Many of them.  She'd sensed the essence of such things when she'd inspected the jewelry that the Aegiskeeper Annalise had shown her, and she hoped that she might find them here. She'd already attuned herself to the mystical energies of both the valley and the spellcraft of those about her.  Now she opened herself up to the push and pull of the earth.

She'd already done it, every time she gazed through the gem back at New Verano.  She had avoided such things when not doing just that, for part of her knew that to do so and to look down into the earth was to see it become void.  To see the bones of the earth become as air, to vanish beneath her and leave her standing on nothing.  Emptiness more profound than anything she had seen before.  The thought terrified her, but for this?  For a Shard of the Celestial itself?

She would face that fear.

A Word-bound creature recognizes a celestial shard on sight, and can feel the general presence of a shard if they come within fifty feet of it.   And Chandriss was sure that she had sensed the essence of such things when she'd inspected the jewellery that the Aegiskeeper Annalise had shown her.
And so she felt her anticipation rising significantly as they approached the caravan.

But, alas, even as she approached within fifty feet of the wreckage, she felt no such pull.

The bodies of the dead still lay among the carnage, and Chandriss was surprised that they had not been properly buried.  The Ancilians were traditionally a very devout folk, adhering to the general edicts of The One.

She also discovered two small chests, similar in design to those shown her in Verano; although these were bereft of jewellery, and tossed aside as though worthless.


Reaching out with celestial power, Chandriss divined the very earth itself; visually delving into the ground around her for any clues or signs of celestial shards.


        Please, give us a Wisdom roll (which I think for you is a 7+).

Standing in place, still as stone, Chandriss' mind shattered into untold and uncounted millions as she manifested as the Unmade Many.

The Theurges of the great Pyramid of Neith had first named her thus, but even they did not fully grasp the true meaning of the words, the true ramifications.  They had lacked the capability to comprehend such a thing, secure in their stone Pyramids and their great libraries in the boundaries of their own imaginations.  They had been fools, but it had not been their fault, for no mortal mind could comprehend what it truly was that the Unmade Many was accomplishing.

In an explosion that none but she could see or feel, her consciousness shattered and danced along the near infinite lines of Fate.  A truly uncountable number of woven strands, shimmers of possibility and destiny so faint that their existence was imperceptible to even the most finely attuned Seers and Scryers.  Bound by Fate, such was her domain, and with little more than a divine investment of her own being she found the few threads among the infinite in which her other senses properly attuned themselves.

As her senses, and her whole being, expanded out into the infinite reality about her ... equal elements of herself riding different currents of Fate and possibility ... Chandriss lost herself in the totality of everything, of existence and quintessential being.

And there, among the myriad threads of reality, one of her found what she was looking for: remnants of power.
Celestial Power, the nigh-overwhelming taste, touch and psionics of supreme eminence.

Chandriss was able to latch on to that distant, but distinct, scent, and refocus all of her selves back into the moment, and place, where her immortal body stood now.
She had no way of knowing how long she'd been standing there; but stone-goddess that she was, it really didn't matter.

As she pulled herself together, literally and proverbially, Chandriss was now aware that both of the discarded chests had contained celestial power.
The first had, indeed, contained a celestial shard.  The second, however, had contained something much more pure; pulsing with power and spinning, churning, dancing in it purpose.

An engine.

And the taste of them both lead upstream ... through the canyon, towards that one, ominous mountain to the east.

She inhaled deeply, and let out a long and strenuous sigh.

"I-i-i-it s-seems I w-will be h-h-headed East."

Her form fluttered and fluctuated, her words broken and disjointed.  Through pure force of will she reasserted her existence within that line of fate, but it was a tenuous thing. Fragile and volatile, the just formed crust on an eruption of lava hitting the surface.

"Y-y-you will r-return to New Verano, p-protected b-b-b-by my A-aegis."

She added, straining to be understood.

"Do y-y-you know what it is we w-w-will face along this path that F-fate has ordained?"

Gradually, she reasserted control.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:54, Wed 23 Oct 2019.

"If you go into that place," Dalton said, ominously, "You'll never return".

Every one of her companions were looking at Chandriss now like she was insane ... even the stoic Dalton was shaking his head slightly with the absurdity of the notion.

The looks told her that, damn straight, they would be returning to New Verano.  Not one of them intended going any closer to that mountain than they had to.  Just being in the canyon, now, was enough.

But if Chandriss insisted, Dalton offered, "That it will not be lost to your followers, I am willing to take your magic tome back with us. That it might reside safely until one of them can take up your mantle".
He honestly didn't expect Chandriss to return from such a journey.

And it occurred to Chandriss that her own weaving of Fate had decreed that Dalton would 'find a treasure of incalculable worth'.
What, after all, could be of incalculable worth' if not the Shaelat 'Azlia.

"That is not the question that was asked..."

She said, her form condensing as her will solidified.

"Do you know what it is we will face when we take this path?"

She asked again, resolute.

Dalton looked at his folk, who were all feeling very nervous about this ... the he returned his attention to Chandriss, "The ravine continues downstream", pointing to the east, and towards the imposing Mountain in the near distance (and beyond that, towards the ocean far, far away).

"It shallows out as it passes the mountain, and eventually meets with others.
It was obvious that long ago, mighty rivers flowed through these canyons.

There is not travelway through the canyon.   The major roads and paths all occupy the plateau's above ... but there USED to be a thiving river trade out of Lom, that came this way, and so you'll eventually find some remnants of old villages that facilitated and fed this.

There terrain, like above, is tolerable enough; the natural landscape is supported well by the ground.  The bush might be dense in parts.
But this whole valley is home to strange and unwelcoming things.  Its almost as though the ravines have filled with unnatural energies that make them home to what comes through from the Hellmouth in the Mountain", he warned.

Chandriss nodded.

"Then this is where we part ways."

She said at last, her tone brooking no argument.

"When you return to New Verano, you will inform The Aikhtiar that I will meet them back at the Tahul Alqalea."

Which was currently standing empty just at the edges of this befouled lands, in the safety of the desert.

"Those of mine who have been previously instructed to remain will do so, but the rest will depart along the Bastion road that we came to you from.  Ensure that they are properly provisioned for the journey."

She could not foretell how long this journey would take.  While she had gifted the citizens of New Verano with more practical wealth then Fate or sweat of brow of a hundred years might have earned, the Fatebound could not fill those newly risen stone halls with grain.  Five mages studying their art was a manageable burden, especially if two were skilled warriors who shared their training with the local militia.  Seventeen was simply too many mouths to feed, the awe of the Clan Bastion notwithstanding.  The main force of the Aikhtiar could return to their home, even with supplies, that would be less hungry mouths to feed.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:46, Sat 26 Oct 2019.

I am confused: nd you are the perfect person to help me understand.
I though "the tome of fate, the living flame, the Shaelat 'Azlia  (Artifact)" was the book Chandriss carries?
I was unaware of whatever this thing is that is standing 'at the edges of this befouled land, in the safety of the desert".


Dalton nodded.
In fact, he (and his fellows) had no intention of arguing, or accompanying the Stone Goddess any closer to the Hellmouth than they already were.

"Your directions will be relayed".  The bow he made, while small, might have been sarcastic or genuine ... it was hard for Chandriss to tell.

As he and his team were eager to return to the safety of the plateau, they immediately prepared to leave.
Though it became uncertain whether Chandriss intended to take one of the horses downstream with her, or go by foot.

Chandriss did indeed take the horse, though heavy as she was she went on foot beside it.  She ensured that her supplies were split equally between her own back and the horses', so that if something happened to one she would not be bereft of everything.

"Know that the Stonemother watches over her followers, now and forever."

She added ominously by way of a goodbye, turning to leave.

Ancalia was an extensive land ... with great diversity of environments and landscape.

The Sere Plains, in the south, bordered on the harsh deserts of the Oasis States; and were best described as savannah lands from anywhere south of the Gojeb River, slowly becoming simply arid the further south one went until the disolving indistinguishably into the hot sands of its neighbours.

But the Gojeb River, which flowed out of Lom, and through to the Bay of Gojeb in the far east, fertilised the massive canyons through which it ran.  It was't just the flow of life-giving waters, but also the minerals and silts that it brought from the mountains in the west that revitalised the land.

The canyon that Chandriss now followed downstream had been carved over hundreds of thousands of years from the flat, plateau lands of the Sere Plains (to its south) and the Anderaccha Lowlands (northward).
And the vegetation thrived here; making this canyonway as much a river of fertility and green as anything else:  A 'lost Valley' of growth and life.

I am envisaging that New Verano is in the north west of the Sere Plains; and that Mont Castlereigh sits on the north-east juncture where the two rivers meet (right above the 'G' in Gojeb River).

But Chandriss could sense the unnatural energies that flowed upstream through this gorge, washing to the west towards Lom.
The "Hidden Valley", as the Veranoan's had renamed the place, was filled with alien, strange mana that made Chandriss' stone skin crawl; for she could feel the ebbs and flows, like eddies in a river, as she forged against its current.
And as she sensed the unnatural, 'hidden' life around here ... which she could see, if she focused on them.

Strange spiritual creatures: some simply floating and carried by the current, yet some, predatorily and cunning, hunted.

One would't tell, though, with mundane eyes, for the landscape was, in essence, beautiful and vibrant and ... alive.


It was in the late afternoon that Chandriss came into sight of a small, riverside village.  What had once been a thriving community of fishing and trade.
It would have seemed serene and idillic, if not for the heart-freezing image of the bodies that hung, rotting, in the air .. as though dangling from unseen meat hooks.
Even from this distance, Chandriss could see dozen of dozens of human husks, just hanging in the air.

Chandriss drew a deep breath, focusing her mind and grounding her body in reality as she prepared for what she must do.  She knew that she needed to search this village, and she knew well the danger she was putting herself in by doing so.  The mindless things that drifted between worlds could not alter her fate, but the physical?  She had already expended so much of her reserves in order to alter the lines of her own destiny, she had so little reserves left to protect her existence now.  No small part of her wanted to simply bury the hanging dead now, assume the mantle of Stonemother and crush each and every swinging corpse in an avalanche of stone.  She could pull what she needed from the vengeful earth, could she not?

But no, she needed to not draw the attention of each and every Uncreated within the valley.  The Stonemother was many things, but she was not discreet.

And so Chandriss gathered the reins tight in her stony grasp and took the first steps toward village.

The village itself was overgrown and unkept; many years had past since any person had tended to any part of the village, and nature was taking over again.
Again, it seemed strange to witness the plush, vibrancy of nature isn’t his valley ... yet to feel the cold, unnatural ebbs and flow of uncreated energies that flooded and filled the area.

As Chandriss approached the village, her steed grew unsettled; and began violently opposing any attempt to urge it further once within shouting range of the floating corpses.

It was at this range that Chandriss noticed that the bodies had not decayed.   In fact, one could imagine that this atrocity had been inflicted upon them only days ago, for they looked pale and gaunt ...
... and that was when she noticed that the soft susurrus.    It was as though a mild breeze through the leaves and trees, yet no wind prevailed.

Chandriss could easily leave this place now; travel wide, giving the village a wide berth, and continue on to her destination.

What was drawing her within?
What IS her interest in this village; please tell.  Why IS she entering?

Chandriss stopped for a long moment, staring at her horse as it fought her will.

Heeding the beast, she at last turned around, and began the process of taking a wide birth around the village.  The prize she sought was not within that husk of what had been, nor would there be any joy in destroying the tortured creatures that inevitably would have risen to oppose her.  She had wanted to test herself, to test the mantle that was the Stonemother, but she was realizing that the desire to do so had been a human thing.  A mortal thing.  She was the Fatebound, and while she still felt the echos of what she had been, such things should truly have concerned her no longer.  This fight was not her Fate, and she would not ride headlong into it.

Her path sought out the Celestial Engine, or at least the fragments that remained.  The Shaelat 'Azlia yearned to be completed, and she would fulfill that destiny.

And so it was that Chandriss moved on from the haunted village of hanging bodies.

While her steed remained skittish, it settle somewhat once away from that place.  But this entire valley freaked the poor creature out so badly, Chandriss was aware that any sudden surprises or threats might make the beast of burden bolt.


Carrying on downstream through the Hidden Valley, it was mid afternoon when  to her concern, she became aware of movement among the bracken and landscape, as of something lurking nearby.  In fact, if her intuition was correct, it seemed maybe a pack of somethings ... tracking and observing her way.
With your next narrative, please give us a Wisdom check

The horse, also, was aware; and it acted as prey would, fearfully watching the terrain about it, expecting ambush at any time.

With observation, Chandriss was more than certain that a pack of creatures was stalking her now.

Such was inevitable.

Chandriss paused, and reached deep into the bones of the earth.  About her, a wall of stone erupted in a tight circle, a tower ten feet wide and twenty high.  It enclosed both her and the mount entirely, and if the beast panicked at the sudden darkness that enveloped it she paid it little heed, for the rising tower offered her a handhold to grasp even as it sprung from the earth.  Grasping this, she was vaulted high over the poor creature, a platform of stone emerging to give her feet purchase as she reached the top.  In an instant, she stood high atop her Bastion, her blazing eyes surveilling in the direction of the Hunters.

For she was the Stonemother, and she feared nothing that tread upon the earth.

The canopy towered above her, a threat to the sanctity of the perfect smooth stone of the Bastion.  Even as she scanned the horizon, she began calling up more rock from below to topple the trees about her.  the closest first, and moving outward, her song heard by the very bones of the earth.  With a terrible groaning roar of ripping roots, the nearest tree to her toppled.  No sooner had it begun to fall than the stones beneath it receded, rising again from beneath the next nearest set of roots.   She moved with a cold efficiency, hurried but not panicked, laying the foundation for the fight that was to come.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:47, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

From her high viewpoint, twenty feet up, Chandriss watched the wave of her will washed outward from the bastion, upheaving the ground and leveling the nearby trees.

And skittering among the deforestation showed her the creatures that had been stalking her.
They were small, maybe the size of a bloated/filled pigs intestine, such as children kick around for sport; or the size of a human head.
Quadruped greyish creatures ... but without heads, as Chandriss noticed.
Even without heads or faces, though, they moved agilely.

Chandriss, her blazing eyes attuned to the mystic and supernatural, sensed that these headless critters were intelligent .... and psychically well endowed.   They were hunters, for sure; and Chandriss had little doubt that they were not native to Arcem.

And even as the trees finished falling around them, the five little critters were regrouping among the safety and cover of the fallen foliage.
Chandriss could feel their psychic senses seeking her out.  She could feel their malice and cunning, even though she could only vaguely make out their presence in the ruined unbrush.


But there was something else, also.
Something seperate from this threat.  Something ... out there.  Back along the trail that she had come here by.
A presence; but one she couldn’t quite identify or locate.

There was more than just these critters stalking her.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:10, Mon 04 Nov 2019.

The Fatebound was patient, the Unmade was patient, the Stonemother was not.

There was a rumble, a growl, the only hint of warning. Stones exploded from below, an angry torrent as earth and rock raced up to try and bury the stalking beasts.  One was struck, but such was her might that she was able to hurl death at all of them, forcing them to scramble out of the way or be crushed.

From her high pedestal, The Stonemother looked down upon the skirmish grounds below her, raising the very earth in thunderous explosions ... targeting the agile, shadowy figures as they slunk about the debris and shattered landscape below.
Small Mob of psionic critters: worthy foes.
AC: 4
Hit Dice: 22
Morale: 6
Attack: +4 (physical)
Move: 15’ run
Save: 11+
Damage: 1d4 (physical), 1d4 (psionic)
Effort: 2

But her random explosions of stone did little more than graze and frighten the creatures lurking down there.
They were wily and cunning, and the 'casual blows and minor exertions of her divine power' were having no effect upon the enemy.
Fray dice do not count;   small mob below reduced to 21HD.

As Chandriss directed her magical strikes against the vague figures below, however, she realised that their same unnatural sensing that had been searching her out (in lieu of visual senses), was now directing towards her as psionic blasts.
Please make a Spirit Save to resist the Psionic/Mental energies being thrown up at you.
- rolled 3 using 1d4 with rolls of 3.  Psionic attack damage
If you fail the Save, take 1 point of damage.

Please note my usual disclaimer:  I'm new to this, if this isn't working the way I hope (to give you a worthy challenge) I will change it up at some point.
Suggestions, as always, will be accepted; if politely made.

The Unmade's will was iron, and the creature's twisted will broke against it like the ripples of a pond upon a wall of stone.

Unfortunately, the Stonemother's calling did little more.  Another boulder ripped itself free of the earth to fling itself at the creatures, but only caught one as the others skittered away.

Chandriss easily denied her aggressors attacks at her mental health, allowing the mystic blasts to wash over her as water off the proverbial ducks back.
Yet, their assault continued upon her mind ...
Please make a Spirit Save to resist the Psionic/Mental energies being thrown up at you.
- the NPC Psionic critters, rolled 4 using 1d4 with rolls of 4.  Possible damage to Chandriss.
If she fails, take 1 HP damage.


Chandriss continued to unleash the fury of The Stonemother upon the creatures below, but again found it hard to target the small, stealthy critters among the fallen foliage.
Small mob of Psionic critters  currently at 20HD

Chandriss grimaced as the continued psychic assault finallly battered through her defenses and stabbed her mind.

Her form shifted and wavered, disappearing for a moment entirely before the matrix of gemstones flared to life and stabilized her within this plane of existence.   This was not a war of attrition she wished to fight, and the agile creatures were proving adept at dodging out of the way of the Stonemother's earthen assault.  She drew the two curved knives at her sides, and stepped off the edge of the tower.  The Bastion rose to meet her, enveloping her in a tunnel of stone as she ran down its slope to meet the earth.  This tunnel punched along the surface of the ground like a fist, shielding her from the thing's sight as she moved to close the distance with them.  Her eyes blazed as she ran along the ground, piercing the stones and finding her marks as she drew near.  She lacked the power to both see through the stone and fight with it, but she could close the distance between them.

When she was, she would burst forth and strike.

The bastion of stone twisted and contorted to the will of the Stonemother, redesigning itself into a downward funnelling tube through which she equally ran and surfed towards the ground below.

The Divine Effort that she'd been using to create the explosions was redirected into there eye-gems, allowing her to see out through the stoney tunnel as it smashed its way through the fallen underbrush and deforestation, towards the small, bipedal creatures.

And at the last moment, as the bastion slide came within range of one such creature, the stone opened itself so that Chandriss could lash out with one of her curved knives as the critter.

Small Mob of psionic critters: worthy foes.
AC: 4
Hit Dice: 22
Morale: 6
Attack: +4 (physical)
Move: 15’ run
Save: 11+
Damage: 1d4 (physical), 1d4 (psionic)
Effort: 2

The being was small and agile, and quick of wit ... and it leapt to meet this new opponent; its bestial legs were strong and clawed.

Chandriss exploded out of the stone, her curved blades flashing as she cut down the closest creature.

She was in trouble, and she was beginning to recognize it.  These things were numerous, and agile enough to avoid the majority of her divine fury.  Their attacks were mere scratches, but eventually they would wear her down.  Still, she would test her blades on them before she even thought to flee.