The temple of lost souls, group 1, A, Wombats

[nysisobli]

The smell of musty air emanates all around you. An afterimage of a gigantic hand lingers in your minds eye. All around you, you can see only darkness.

This sensation goes on for several long moments, any spells you cast to gain perception or clarity have no effects. You see yourself from outside you body.

You are falling, you hit a stone floor hard, around you you see 3 others.
Feeling yourself being violently pulled into your body, you awaken. You are in a dark tomb, around you are stone caskets. The air is thick with the smell of must and decay, there is no pathways out of the room your in.

The stones of the walls seem to shimmer, as the provide enough light, marks appear to be moving across the stone.

ooc: Let player interaction begin

[Wraithkin]

There are a few curses and angry words thrown out in a variety of languages as one of the four moves around. "T, you still alive?" The words are flung out in celestial, abyssal, and snervneblin as the powers he has active finally come back to him. He slowly stands and feels around the room with his mind, trying to discern their surroundings in detail. He knows there are two strangers in this room, and he struggles to remember how they got here in the first place. Last he knows they were plane shifting to the material plane and got shunted here.

Shaking his head, he walks over to the walls and starts examining them visually, ignoring the caskets knowing Troce will likely look at those on his way to the walls. Or not.

To the newcomers, the speaker appears to be a lithe man, roughly six feet in height with a pair of gossamer wings hanging down off his shoulders. He moves with an otherworldly grace, something that is a bit unnerving given his height. His pointed ears do nothing to help you get at ease, for they are longer than any elf's. Adorning his body is a dark green ninja's hood, leaving only his eyes exposed. Those eyes are covered by custom-fitted pieces of crystal that are darkened and block all attempts to make eye contact with the man.

He wears a simple mouse-colored tunic and dark green breeches and boots, and a cloak of similar dark green graces his shoulders. On his back rest a pair of what appear to be short swords, hung in an x-pattern upside-down on his back, with a quiver and crystalline bow nestled between his wings. He has a pair of dark-brown bandoleers that look to be covered in sand, as well as a pair of a similarly-appearing pair of ovoids dangling from his waist. Each of his thighs holds a small box-like rig holding gods-know-what. You can't fully discern what else he has on him, though it would appear he's come prepared.

Alrighty. Let's find out what's going on here. Walls! [roll0] to find out if this is magically formed or just chiseled out. [roll1] to find out if we have any impending doom and where the exit would most likely be. With my touchsight up, I don't need to make any spot or listen checks, looking for a hidden latch or door or something. Taking twenty on search using my touchsight (total 35). And... [roll2] to see if we're actually still on the PMP. That should do it.

Edit: Wow, them's some crappy rolls.

[nysisobli]

OOC: you are still on the material plane, the walls were sculpted, and the knowledge architecture doesn't tell you where the way out is, you find no hidden latches.

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce lays silent for a full minute as he brings together his powerful mental faculties. Inside he was a whirlwind, the careful gates of influence, patches of subjective thought, and shields of power were twisted in a mock-disarray of his former impressive mental defenses. In an instant, it was returned, but he spent the better part of the minute seething in rage in a way that none could possibly see. However, time waits for no man, and Torce felt the powers that be inside of him scream for action! While he retained control, he nonetheless agreed with every word they hissed, or shouted, inside of his soul.

Carefully he drew himself up to his full height of 6'4". His body frame appeared to be none to average, aside from the conealing affects of the bulky battle robes he wore. He held no items across his form, aside from a small silver dagger on his belt among the various spell-component pouches that littered his belt. Really what defined Troce among people wasn't the oddities he carried... but the oddities that formed him.

Troce has long sweeping black hair, currently pulled back in fine aristocratic knot. Hanging above his head, no more then half a foot, was a brilliant glowing halo. His eyes were solid black, with silver twinkling stars inside of them, though this was already hard enough to see in the dark roomHe had pristine pale skin, as if he had never stepped out into the light of day in a thousand years. That is, were it not for the image a seething ball of flames and power in the middle of his forehead shining off light all around him as if it were a torch. If not for this, Troce appears to be a rather simple, if not handsome man, of some low wealth judging by the tattered garments he wears.

He pauses as he looks around, first at his companion, "Yes... I seem to have made it through this happening with limited instability." The moment words leave the mans lips, everyone hears whispering begin around them. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.

His eyes then swing to the walls, but he doesn't let the spectacle amuse him, before they settle on the two other people stuck in this room with him. He studies them a moment, as one would an insect under glass, before he smiles, "Hello humanoids. It seems my friend, and myself, were brought here against our will. Would you know why?"

-----------

OOC Notes
I'm not sure what sort of knowledge I will need to roll for the marks on the walls, or any markings of the caskets. I have Arcane Sight going on me at the moment. I will concentrate as needed.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Sitting up at the sound of the voices, Krall was once again grateful for being a Gnome, his eyes specifically built for these conditions, the darkness posing him no concern whatsoever.

The man is barely 3 1/2 ft tall, and except for the fact that he is in this unusual place, he is completely unremarkable. Black travelling clothes, more akin to a rogues night fatigues. Looking around at the "sky-highs" as he called them, Krall checked himself over, taking a look into his magical haversack to esure his spellbook was still there, before he walked over to the nearest casket and began examining it for anything to identify it's contents.

"You alive quiet guy?"

------------
Knowledge Arcana: [roll0]

[Killerloop]

Ichabod

A man in his thirties raised to his feet, he is completely covered in mithral plating and carries a spear which strikes fear and despair at the mere sight. Ravaging energies run through it and make it glow with different lights, from red to purple to blue and back.

The man is nearly six foot tall and it is clearly a cleric.

"For Cuthbert holy sandals! What the hell happened here?"

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce quirks a brow, and looks to his companion, "Were their ears made non-functional? What slight did they perform to warrant such aggressive punishment? I will have to completely phase Sonic Arcanery out of my repetoire." A worried expression crosses his face as he steps towards the Cleric of St. Cuthbert.

He raises a hand, snapping a finger, and without a form, magic sparks inbetween his fingers. The sparkling embers of magic form out inbetween the man, spelling a message in the air:


Humanoid Worshipper of St. Cuthbert,


It is an aggregious unfortune that our shared Patron, and whatever Gods included, took from your ears the power to process sound. I am sure for your generation this is a normal thing, but I find it hard to come to terms with. Why, back in my day, everyones ears processed functional sono just fine!

I had asked you, and the other man over there (there is an arrow pointing to Krall), if you had any idea of where we currently were. I judge by your exclamations, which I wonder how you have learned to talk when you cannot hear, that you are unknowning in what exactly is going on this particular portion of the Prime.

You seem to be a member of St. Cuthberts order of divine clerics. My name is Troce... I am touched and gifted by St. Cuthbert for my works in Soul Prison Fabrication. A technique I developed back in my day, and gained great renown and honor for. You have probably read of me.

We are in a dangerous and ignorant situation at the moment, and I fear that without all our faculties, we will not make it out of here alive. Thus, I fear for your life, as your faculties have not be gifted upon you. However, due to your divine allegiance, I promise I shall do all I can to see you through this time of turmoil, as our Patron, would want of me. Afterall, when that stick isn't jammed very far up his arse, he is a very pleasant and talkative being.


The embers end off here... and Troce smiles at you, like one smiles at a child who has some disability or handicap, hoping to impress upon them, their good intentions.

[Robek]

Talbot picks himself up and tightens his cloak around himself. He is a little more than two and a half feet tall, and very lean. He is wrapped in a dark cloak, hiding his face from those around him. His right hand is resting on the hilt of his dagger, and he is watching the other four in the room intently.

"Oy, where am I? You two there, you seem to be fellow worshipers of St. Cuthbert, is that correct? Perhaps through the combination of our intellects, and a prayer or two, we can figure out why we are here."

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

So they all follow St. Cuthbert. Good to know thought the Gnome.

[Wraithkin]

"Gods, if I have to hear you guys rant about how superior Cuthbert is, and how great his followers are, I might have to off myself." He rolls his eyes, and his friend picks up on the running joke that's been shared between the two for some time. He turns to look at Talbot, and shakes his head. "No. Why is not the first thing we should worry about. How to get out is. This is a sealed room made by mortal hands, and there are no ways out. There is no way for fresh air to come in here... meaning you might suffocate soon."

Leth'nil sighs, walking away from the wall and next to his friend. "Anything arcane popping up to you?" If the others didn't know any better, he doesn't appear to even seem to recognize their presence as he has yet to look at them directly. "More accurately," he turns to look directly at his friend, "anything that will blow up if we try to mess with the structure of this place?"

Uhh... not to be a jerk, but we now have 5? Nothin' against you KL, but I thought that there were only four in here.

[nysisobli]

ooc: 2 more peeps jumped in

[Robek]

Talbot activates his Ring of X-Ray Vision, and walks the perimeter of the room, hoping to see anything on the other side.

On command, this ring gives its possessor the ability to see into and through solid matter. Vision range is 20 feet, with the viewer seeing as if he were looking at something in normal light even if there is no illumination. X-ray vision can penetrate 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal, or up to 3 feet of wood or dirt. Thicker substances or a thin sheet of lead blocks the vision.

Using the ring is physically exhausting, causing the wearer 1 point of Constitution damage per minute after the first 10 minutes of use in a single day.

I cancel it after I have walked the full extent of the room.

[nysisobli]

All you see is yourself walking around the room, like you are looking in a mirror

[Killerloop]

Ichabod scratches his head after Troce spell ends.

"I can hear you perfectly, sir." he said "and if I hear, or read, you again talking that way about my patron deity's bottom locations I will punish you."

"And about you" said Ichabod turning towards Leth'nil "I have no interest in talking to you about my god unless you are an atheist or in other words... a Faithless" he said this last word gulping, like it offended his mind and tongue.

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce's face lights up with a genuine smile as he looks to his companion, "Oh, thank goodness. I was worried there, it would take me decades to adjust to this new phenomenon. However..."

He looks back to Ichabod, "I will speak of Cuthbert anyway I choose. If He has an issue with it, He may speak to me at our monthly discussion panel. He isn't your Patron deity alone, as I wrote." Troce reaches up, and flicks his halo, which wobbles a little above his head, before sitting crooked and still. His attention shifts back to his companion, "I don't think he is an Acolyte. I was sure we had weeded out this arrogant superiority and self-righteous abundance out before I left. I would of lashed a lad for this sort of attitude. He must be part of the Errant Guard, or perhaps that silly Inquisitional Brief I read about."

He seems to have grown bored, or unimpressed, with his fellow Cuthbert worshipper and moves over to one of the caskets, "L. You say this is a complete seal? How very drawl... have you attempted extra-planier movement? I doubt it will work... though, I'm curious how exactly someone is trapping us here. If you cannot come up with an escape plan in approximately 2 minutes, I will be forced to unleash the full destructive force of my power, in what will more then likley turn into, while impressive and flashy, a feeble attempt of insecurity."

[Killerloop]

Upon hearing the answer from Troce Ichabod smiles like he expected those words, but says nothing and keeps a satisfied smile for a good minute.

"I don't think we can teleport or planeshift while in there, I'm not ever sure magic actually WORKS in this place. I have a feeling of emptiness" said Ichabod, looking worried.

"Maybe we should try to find some hidden door or passage. If that fails we need to find a thin wall to smash"

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce - Saint of St. Cuthbert

Everytime Troce speaks, you hear whispering begin around you. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.

---------

Troce raises an inquisitive brow, "You ponder that magic doesn't work inside of this room? After witnessing me cast a spell right infront of your face? Despite the obvious glamour effects upon my body?" Troce shakes his head as he looks to his companion, "Eyeballs has more intelligence."

"No... I have no doubt magic works. Perhaps a dimensional lock... or... just a simple trick of the mind." He shrugs at his companion, "Attempt extra-planier movement. I will be ready should something adverse happen."

[Killerloop]

"Don't cross the line" said Ichabod with a serious tone, not enraged but slightly irritated.

"I can accept that you talk to Cuthbert with your own 'point of view' about respect and deference, but I won't accept lack of respect towards me."

"As for the magic I can clearly see that we are able to cast spells, but you can't be sure if they will work correctly. A dimensional lock would be the best thing... what about a dimensional twist? Or a nice trick that sends you to Negative Plane instead of Ethereal or Shadow?

Anyway I won't stop you, try as you like. I'll see if there is some way to get out of here without using magic of that kind"


Icahobod starts testing the walls, looking for hidden triggers or weak spots.

Search: 22

[Wraithkin]

Leth'nil sighs, more to himself than at the conversation between the two cudgel worshipers. He doesn't even look at the man as he responds to the godless part. "Despite my friend here being favored amongst your kindling-worshiping brethren, I only do one thing: Acknowledge their existence. They have done me no favors in my disgustingly long life, and thus I do not pay homage to them. It would be wise of you to let this matter of divinity drop." His voice is a whisper, and it travels around the room as if a light breeze could erase it from existence.

He walks to a casket and examines it. Troce notices a slight change as his friend moves. "You have to remember, T, that they likely haven't improved over the last few centuries that you've been cooped up. Remember my reports? War and contempt is all they know." He speaks as if he is reading from a report. The fact that he is reading from an image in his mind is absolutely beside the point.

Okay... few powers going off here. First, fabricating the walls in various locations. If it doesn't work, then I won't go past one. Then, telekinetic force to move the lid off one of the coffins, each in turn if they fail as the duration shouldn't be a problem. If that doesn't do anything, then moving on to dispel psionics/magic [roll0] on the wall. If that fails, I'll give it a shot on one of the caskets [roll1]. Unless those are horribly ungodly rolls, I probably won't do it again. After that's done, will do Sensitivity to Psychic Impressions to see if there's something in the past that I need to know about. All of these powers are being manifested by my partition as I look around and physically examine the caskets with eyes on instead of my other powers. Also, do I sense any hostile intent?

[Killerloop]

Ichabod was seriously worried upon hearing that the man is one of the Faithless.

"I'll spend a few more words, because it is my duty to do it under any circumstance. I strongly suggest that you find a deity you like and worship him or her, otherwise when death will come for you there is a .... really nasty surprise added."

The mere idea makes Ichabod lips twitch a little as he return to the searching duty


Search checks on stone caskets, still 22

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

"Centuries you say, what exactly are you two then?" asks the Gnome as he sidesteps the now airborne coffin lids and moving to the side of the room that the militaristic...man(?) has already covered.

He then proceeded to pull out a pair of unusual silver glasses and donning them he floated 10f in the air, "sat down" and spoke a name before chuckling to himself.

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce - Saint of St. Cuthbert

Everytime Troce speaks, you hear whispering begin around you. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.

---------

Troce looked to his companion, "He is correct you know. When you die... you'll become rather powerful, create a demi-plane, and have to put up with me for over half a millennium. That's a terrible surprise... it's almost as bad as two-week old pineapple-upside-down cake." He shivered in disgust, even though it had been centuries since his last piece of food.

His eyes shift to the gnome, "Us? Why, we are bipedal humanoids. Well... that's not terribly true. One of us is a large-bodied member of the corvus family." He smiles pleasantly, he seemed to enjoy this banter.

He looked to his companion again, "Still... it is as I said. I thought we lashed this supremecy out of the ranks. It's terribly shameful... I will need to bring it up in four days. I think new business is this decade. I hope so... otherwise, an addendum is in order next time." He shakes his head, the halo wiggling, but eventually self-righting.

[Wraithkin]

His grits his teeth at the crass behavior and rude questioning. He turns to look at the twig-lover with a flat look (though you still can't see it due to the ninja mask and sun lenses) as he is scouring the place in vain. "Clearly, Cuthbert didn't deem you fit to provide you with half a wit of intellect in that hollow case of a skull. If he and I have been alive for centuries, and he is on a first-name basis with your 'oh-so-great' stick of a god... " he looks over his shoulder at his companion, "no offense..." he turns back to look at the man, "you don't possibly think that we might have had a conversation or three about the topic?"

He sighs and turns around and glares at the floating short person. "And you, stay out of our personal business. We don't know you, and asking questions like that will not do you any good. Take this as your warning."

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Krall laughed at the answer.

"If your Humanoids I'm an Ogre. Fine, you may keep your secrets for now, I'm a patient man. But since you seem to know each other, perhaps you know where we are or why we're here."

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce lifts his hand, "L. Please, calm down. That was absolutely uncalled for. That tiny bipedal creature did absolutely nothing to you. I believe he might be a gnome... you remember how nice that one gnome was. What was his name? Twinkletoes? Crazybread? Whatever it was... this one is rather polite."

He shakes his head and looks to Krall, "I apologize for my friend, he doesn't much enjoy being ripped out of a partially complete planier transfer, to be stuffed in a box with three unidentified, possibly dangerous beings. I'm not sure what the problem is... but, I would ask you excuse him."

He ponders the gnomes words for a moment and shrugs, "I have no idea. I would assume it is because we are creatures of power. Much like all of you, are more then likley, creatures of power. These sorts of situations tend to crop up."

[Killerloop]

Knowledge (religion) check to see if I recognize Troce as a Saint: [roll0] It is +7 so 16.

Upon hearing the next insult and a threat to the life of another creature Ichabod gripped his spear firmly and put a hand on his full plate, despite all their claims he can feel that his aura was the strongest in the room and they deserve a punishment for their attitude.

Still, he wasn't sure. Killing for words is an evil act and they would sure answer with deadly force, making not killing impossible.
Furthermore there was something about the one who claimed to be a follower of Cuthbert.... something right.

So he pulled down the hand and loose the grip on the spear. Today is not a good day to fight, for now at least.

[Wraithkin]

"No." He shakes his head. "No!" A pause later and he sighs. "Fine." Reaching back behind his cloak, he pulls a small semi-opaque purple crystal no more than two inches across and an inch thick. Holding it up level to his eyes, he scowls slight. "Why? Why do you need to? You think you know something I don't?" Turning over to Troce, he shakes his head. "Can you think of any reason to give him flight? He's asking for it." It is quite clear he's speaking about the rock.

Glancing over at Ichabod grab his stick and tin can, he rolls his eyes and looks back at Troce expectantly.

Yes. He's talking to a rock.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

"I can't help but notice that you're talking to a rock. Were you injured in the fall?"

With a chuckle the Gnome lands and readjusts his glasses, this time aiming the magic directly on the room's ceiling, looking down at them. He then tapped a red bead on the side of them, and the bizarre bird's eye view of himself and the others filtered out any magical illusions or barriers, hopefully revealing a way out.

------------------------------
The glasses mimic Greater Scrying (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/scryingGreater.htm), with their lenses as the Focus Component Mirror.

Creating the Scrying sensor at the top of the room looking down.

Scrying Master lets me cast True Seeing (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/trueSeeing.htm) through a Scrying sensor 3/day. So I'm doing that. Anything you guys want to admit to?

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce - Saint of St. Cuthbert

Everytime Troce speaks, you hear whispering begin around you. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.



For Krall:
You don't see Troce in your Scrying. He just... isn't there.
---------

Troce looks to his companion, "I told you before, I do not converse with rocks. It is a silly practice, with absolutely no outcome. Do you know how they say the True Name of a Rock? They don't... because rocks don't have True Names. The minerals that bind a rock together howe-"

He stops suddenly as he turns and looks towards the gnome, and casts his gaze upwards. He frowns slightly as he feels something tingle in the back of his head... violation. His friendly smile slowly slips away to a blank face as he looks straight to the gnome. "I am not immediately aware of what you just attempted upon my person... but, if you attempt it again, I will be very cross with you."

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Krall replies without looking at Troce.

"It's not aimed at you, you're just in the way. If you know a way out feel free to share it, otherwise please get over yourself and do something constructive. Or destructive as the case may require."

He is walking in small circles looking down at the floor.

[Killerloop]

*Another threat* thought Ichabod *How can it be? Why If I ever think of attacking him I feel a voice in the back of my head that says "No you shouldn't, don't don't don't"?? If he attacks the gnome I'll HAVE to destroy him, it is a duty. But why the mere thinking of it make my faith shake?"

Once more Ichabod brought his right hand upon the center of the plate, where the symbol of St. Chutbert was magically inscribed.

[Wraithkin]

A quick flick of the hand, and the rock hops from his open palm to his shoulder as a quartet of glowing spider-like legs sprout from the sides of the rock. "Be happy with that." He turns to face the gnome and disdain is evident even though his features are covered. "What are you trying to look at with that bauble? You will turn that thing off, take it off your face." Without skipping a heartbeat, too fast for the human eye to track, his body accelerates mere inches per hour slower than the speed of time.

He draws out a card of bronze that is far too thin to have been crafted by normal means from his right thigh box, snaps the box shut, and places the card on the man's stationary head. Walking back to the exact position he was standing before he froze time, he releases time to its normal flow, and the glyph resting atop the man's head is likely triggered. To the others, he didn't move an inch from his last position.

Alrighty. Warning was given, and not heeded. First, you don't see Leth'nil there. At all. It's like he's not there. Secondly.. the glyph.

If you are non-good, and have the alignment of lawful or chaotic, you trigger the glyph I implanted upon the card. It triggers the power Ego Whip. You take 16 Charisma damage (not drain, not from negative energy). Will save DC 32 for half damage, SR applies if you have it. [roll0] in case you need that. If you are Neutral Good, then you don't suffer the fate of triggering the glyph.

I planted it on you while I utilized Temporal Acceleration (Swift action, no outward displays), augmented to allow me enough time to do that. I presume 3 rounds is enough.

[Kobold-Bard]

Alright, I feel that was a bit harsh since I am just looking for a way out, but whatever.
Will Save: [roll0]
-----------------------------------
Krall

Freaking out the Gnome screams and runs into a corner of the room. The glasses flare and if you get close enough you'll see dozens of of faces flicker across the glass of them, like he's searching for someone.

Those who could sense it don't feel the Scrying sensor anymore.

[Wraithkin]

His head tilts at the sudden outburst by the gnome as he runs to the corner. "What's that all about? I just told him to turn it off." Shrugging, he continues examining the casks.

Actually, you don't run around unless you have 17 or more charisma. You Fall Unconscious (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/conditionSummary.htm#abilityDamaged). If you do, good on ya.

And I figure this is better than outright attack for the warning. 1) You aren't permanently harmed and it's charisma. Could be something important like con. So as "attacks" go, it's pretty minor. 2) To everyone else, it appears that you just went down/ran crazy spontaneously. 3) If he does fall unconscious, I intend to wake him up next round.

[Kobold-Bard]

Thanks to my Cloak of Charisma I have a Charisma of 18 (or 2, depending on how you look at it). I foresee Krall's death very soon tbh, he doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the group very well.

And hanks for once again reminding me how underpowered I am. Compared to you two Krall's utter cr*p.

[Killerloop]

Ichabod saw a fuzzy movement and then the gnome was running around screaming.

"What the heck just happened?" he said, his right hand still on the symbol of Cuthbert and the left holding the spear tightly.

[Robek]

Talbot continues watching the big people, amazed at their silliness.

[Wraithkin]

"As I'm working, would one of you find out what is wrong with him?" He speaks in an exasperated tone, as being stuck in this box was growing tiresome. He wanted out of this place. Secretly, he wanted that gnome to just be quiet, not scream like he was doing. Looking at the casket, he begins to have a pang of regret for his actions. A small one, but it was there. It wasn't like him to just spontaneously do that to someone. With another focus, he speeds back up and picks up the card that had fluttered off the top of his head when Krall bolted and stuffed it back in a pocket. Moving back to position he released his temporal control and resumed his work. Despite being a bit on the regretful side, he wasn't stupid.

You're fine KB. A little bit of background about our characters is in order, and you'll understand why we're a bit ... different when it comes to the social interactions and reactions to people. There is justification for it. Don't assume it's just your character. You happened to do something that drew attention to yourself. S'all good.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

The Gnome continues wailing at nothing in particular, the lenses flickering through hundreds of faces.

[Killerloop]

Sensing the pain of the gnome, Ichabod closes in to help


Casting Lesser Restoration, should heal [roll0] CHA damage


"Now, can you tell me what happened?" said Ichabod looking towards the two annoying guys in suspicion.

[Killerloop]

OOC: Plus another one, for good measure: [roll0]

[Wraithkin]

"Perhaps this room doesn't like whatever he was doing?" His voice is deadpan and emotionless. "Maybe the twig-god didn't like it." Leth'nil finishes his inspections and comes to stand next to Troce. As he does, the crystal on his shoulder hops over onto Troce's shoulder and bobbles slightly.

[Killerloop]

Ichabod turned towards the humanoid, the look on his face wasn't exactly calm and relaxed.

"Was that a pleasure for you? Hurting people?" said Ichabod, waiting for the gnome to regain some faculties.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

The confusion in his mind clearing the Gnome jumps up and casts a spell, touching a statuette in his belt pouch. A field of transparent energy bursts forth around him.

"Stay the hell back or it'll be the last thing you do."

He then turns to face the nearest wall and casts a second spell, tossing a pinch of seeds at the wall as it collapses in on itself, melting away to form a passage.

---------------------------------
Cast Repulsion (not trying to force you back, its just a reflex. Please don't smite me) at a 50ft radius. DC27 Will Save or you can't move towards me.

Spell resistance (I think the Saint Template gives it): [roll0]

Cast Passwall on the wall (I think they're made of stone). Makes a 25ft indentation, which I'm hoping is enough to get through to the other side.

[Wraithkin]

Leth'nil looks at Ichabod and tilts his head. "When did I hurt anyone?" His question is sincere, albeit continuing to be deadpan. "No answer? I thought not. So I do not know why you're looking at me." He looks to the gnome and quirks an eyebrow. "Right."

[roll0] to determine different spells.

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce - Saint of St. Cuthbert

[roll0] vs. Repulsion!

Everytime Troce speaks, you hear whispering begin around you. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.


----------------------------------------------------------------------

Troce frowns as he watches the action take place in front of him. The sun in the middle of his forehead glares with angry energy as the light around him intensifies to an almost intolerable level, "SILENCE!" The room shudders as his magnified voice causes your eardrums to shake under it's sonic-level. His aura expands, covering every inch of the room with the intense holy feeling, almost suffocating everyone.

His angry eyes turn to his companion first, "That was uncalled for, Ucar'lyrix Leth'diti-Vitael Kulijal'von'brae*. He was reacting to this intolerable situation. Your actions... are uncalled for." The sting of suspicion aches through his words, the first real hint of emotion in the man's otherwise personable speech. His gaze turns to everyone slowly, "I tire of this. I tire of this box. I tire of this situation. I highly doubt any of you wish to be here, with me, or with this situation. However... we must protect our interests. I must protect mine. I cannot dimensionally leave this box... so I must fall to my senses and intelligence. My intelligence tells me... this is a trap. The first part of any good trap, is letting the true trap lay beneath someones nose."

He turns bodily to his companion, "I will begin with you. I am positive of my existence... I am real. I speak the words of the multiverse, and no magic can force me to speak these. However, your will is replicable. Those bound to me, are not. If you truley are yourself, lower your will to mine..." He walks forward, his body strong suddenly in it's authoritativeness. He stands directly infront of his companion now, his hand out, "This will be painful... prepare yourself." With that, he began hissing a string of arcane syllables, his aura doubling in effort as the powerful magic is called forth**. As his will is imposed upon his companions, his gaze turns to the others, "You will all be next. Whether you approve, or not. I ask for your acceptance of the inevitability of this. It is to assure our mutual survival. If any of you are responsible for this place... I suggest you release us, before I learn the truth."

-----------------------------------


*- True Speech Name.

**- Cast Spell: Mindrape

[Wraithkin]

A quiet growl emits from Leth'nil's throat, but it's one of resignation and not anger. He knows that his friend would not be able to penetrate his defenses if he did not allow it, but he trusts him. With a glare at the others, he points at the rest of them. "Do not let me catch you doing anything inappropriate." His voice is tinged with extreme apprehension for the first time he seems nervous. With that, he looks at his friend. "I know. It wasn't fun two hundred sixty-seven years, eighty-five days, seven hours, and sixteen minutes ago. I remember what it was like then. Make it quick."

With that, the slew of mental fortifications he had on his person were dropped.

[Killerloop]

[roll0] vs Repulsion
Spellcraft to identify Mindrape[roll1] - Gotcha! :smallsmile:


"Don't fear me friend, I mean no harm to..."

[Troce display]

Ichabod was impressed by the display, but grinned when he felt that the aura of the other was not enough to overcome him, his own will slowly besting it.

He widened his eyes upon recognizing the dreaded Mindrape, the Spell of the Torturers, the Bringer of Insanity.

He closed his eyes for a second

*Then... this is it. I pray you Cuthbert! Guide my hand!* he thought

Eyes open, and began speaking:

"I am sorry, sir, human, beast or whatever you are" said Ichabod "but I bow to Cuthbert only and I won't let you touch my mind with that evil spell"

He touched his plate, and chanted a little. You see a little glow of energy around him... that fades fast.


It is a level 8 spell

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce - Saint of St. Cuthbert


Everytime Troce speaks, you hear whispering begin around you. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.


----------------------------------------------------------------------

The information processed in a second. Every collective piece of Leth'nil's mind was instantly extracted and deposited within Troce's. His body shook, and then stilled as his instantly organized and filtered out each piece of information. He nods to his companion, "Indeed... what have I told you, L? Make your mind a maze, not a shield. One can raise and lower the bridge, allowing instant infiltration in a moment of weakness... but one can guide another through a maze, while another will get lost in eternity."

With that, Troce spun and walked straight towards the Cleric, "I am an extension, of The Great Saint's will. I am a Saint of his order, vested and virtues bestowed upon me by our shared Patron, if you truly are the man you say you are, and truly worship Him." His hands remain at his side as his starry eyes stare into the Clerics, the sun in the middle of his head flaring with power, "I will not insult myself by possibly speaking to a man disguised by powers I cannot immediately see through. You will need to make a decision... and that decision will decide whether you live or die this day. I offer you a choice... one that you now get to make with full disclosure. I am Saint Troce; Saint of Prisons, Justice, and Secrets. I am the extension of St. Cuthberts power... and as such, I call upon your obedience to him. My spell will merely determine your truth, in the only way to be sure of it's honesty. I will not tamper, maim, or disrupt your person. As a Cleric of the Great Saint, you should understand there is no Evil... there is only Power, and what one does with it."

His hands clench, the sound of joints popping ring in the still air as he lifts his hand up, "I ask you make your choice. I have started with my own companion first... my bias is nonexistent, and my suspicion universal."


------------

Spellcraft to Identify the Spell Ichabod Cast (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6940550&postcount=50)

[Forgotten T.S.]

Cursed Edit!

[roll0]

[Wraithkin]

He grits his teeth as the spell took its merry path through his memories, but he doesn't utter a sound. After the spell had run its course, he sighs and cricks his neck. In a moment, his protections are back up and he turns to the others. His mask and sunlenses are removed, and his full head is now clearly displayed. His head is well-proportioned, and shaved bald. It appears as if there is no hair that is needed to be shaved; no stubble mars his scalp. In place of hair, numerous intricate tattoos weave their way around his head, behind his overly-pointed ears, and down his neck. Some of the tattoos creep around his ears and run along his jaw line and cheek bones.

His face is smooth, handsome, and free of stubble. His jaw is strong, and his cheek bones rest high on his face, giving his elongated face a slightly gaunt appearance. His lips are thin eyebrows are well-proportioned for his face. What causes your breath to catch in your throat, however, is his eyes. Where there would normally be white orbs with irises rests nothing but a void of darkness, with pinpoints of red light. Slight hints of gold trace within the sockets, but by-and-large, they are devoid of light. Even with the light in the room, the pinpoints of light stand out and seem to bore into your mind.

"I am Leth'nil, Arch Psion, Grand Constructor, and master artisan. While my title is not as impressive as my friend's, here, he and I have been at each others' sides for nearly a full millennium. I will not explain the 'what are you' question, as it is moot, and irrelevant. Suffice it to say that I am one who is not afraid of death, and will not inflict it upon anyone who does not deserve it through their actions. I have assisted my ally here in constructing his prison, and know that when you attempt to tell me," he pauses and the pinpoints focus on Ichabod, "about how my faithlessness will end badly for me, know that I am not afraid of that end. It is better than his prison." He tilts his head towards Troce.

"Now, I suggest you yield to his request. The last thing any of us need is a fight erupting in this place. It will not end well for any of us. Besides, in our experiences, more heads contributing to a problem are almost certainly better than fewer."

1d20+20 I can't really fail this, so may as well tell me. ;)

[Robek]

Since Talbot has remained neutral throughout, he feels he should not have to listen to threats, no matter who they're from (even a man with a scary voice!).

Talbot casts Greater Invisibility, then hides in plain sight.
[roll0]

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Seeing his spell fall flat the Gnome instead takes a crystal from his pouch and fires an eye-shattering blast of prismatic light at the wall, with a scream of frustration.

-------------------
Cast Empowered Rainbow Blast:
Acid: [roll0]* 1.5 = 15
Cold: [roll1]* 1.5 = 18
Electric: [roll2]* 1.5 = 13
Fire: [roll3]* 1.5 = 4
Sonic: [roll4]* 1.5 = 9

[Killerloop]

Ichabod had cast Greater Spell Immunity


Ichabod reaction upon this revelation wasn't exactly expected, because he became really angry!

"That explains quite a lot" said Ichabod, his teeth bare "Still, I won't lower my defences. You keep threatening my life unless I do your bidding, you boasted insults and holier than you attitude since the beginning, you talk about our patron the way tavern drinker does.... and now you propose that I let you use Mindrape on me?? NEVER!! That is not Cuthbert's way, I'm sure."

He pauses to take a deep breath.

"And, if this denial from a mortal is enough for a Saint of Cuthbert to start a fight to the death so be it. I have something to ask to our patron if you win."

Ichabod is really upset.
You see him balancing on his knees with eyes flashing from Troce to Leth'nil and back, his right hand firmly planted on the symbol of Cuthbert that glows with swirling energies.

[nysisobli]

The wall wasn't even fazed, however it did seem that the room was getting a little warmer.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Thoroughly outraged at the wall Krall turns to the others, but decides not to speak. If any of them knew a way out they would have done it already.

Fed up of this hellbox Krall lets out a roar as he places a second circlet on his head and grows into a large blue dragon. When he speaks his voice is a draconic bark.

"I am getting out of here now if it kills me."

He then unleashes an immeasurabley bright blast of electricity from his mouth at the far wall.

------------------
Breath Weapon: [roll0]

[Wraithkin]

Leth'nil looks at the transformation and quirks up an eyebrow. "I don't think that's going to work."

So... am I to assume that the rest of my actions did nothing?

[Forgotten T.S.]

Troce - Saint of St. Cuthbert

Everytime Troce speaks, you hear whispering begin around you. It's hard to make out, even if you strain your focus entirely. The whispers are soft, beguiling, with no clear form or direction. You look around, but nothing exists to give reason or place for the disembodied voices that come from all around. A few moments after he finishes speaking, the voices fade away, but their memory remains somewhere in the dark lost parts of your minds.


----------------------------------------------------------------------


Troce stares at the defiant Cleric, his eyes hard as he contemplates how best to go about it. He was only bluffing... he had absolutely no intention of killing the Cleric. He looked at the rock on his shoulder, then over as he sees the little gnome unleashing his force on the wall. He felt stuck... and it clicked.

He took a step back and nodded to the Cleric, "I have overreacted." He turns bodily to his companion, "I am going to push myself against the boundaries of this box... I ask you to protect me."

He walks away, to a point farther from everyone else and stands at the ready towards the wall. First he produces a large gem from his vestments and holds it up. He quietly intones the arcane tongue as he focuses his will upon the wall*.

-----------------------------


*- Cast Spell: Analyze Dwenomer

[Killerloop]

Ichabod relaxed, if look carefully upon you can see a film of sweat upon his forehead and hands. The magic energies he was conjuring instantly disappeared.

"Peace between us then, let's focus on breaking this hellish prison"

He concentrated upon a section of the wall near him, and began unleashing all his mystical might upon the wall


Ichabod tries in order: Shatter, Flamestrike, Disintegrate, Energy Drain. If none of those works he tries to Eheral Jaunt through the wall.
If those fail too he tries to cast Find the Path hoping to get some hint for getting out of here.

[Kobold-Bard]

Ichabod relaxed, if look carefully upon you can see a film of sweat upon his forehead and hands. The magic energies he was conjuring instantly disappeared.

"Peace between us then, let's focus on breaking this hellish prison"

He concentrated upon a section of the wall near him, and began unleashing all his mystical might upon the wall


Ichabod tries in order: Shatter, Flamestrike, Disintegrate, Energy Drain. If none of those works he tries to Eheral Jaunt through the wall.
If those fail too he tries to cast Find the Path hoping to get some hint for getting out of here.


Might you not want to try Ethereal Jaunt first? And can you Flame Strike a wall if the fire comes downwards?
Krall

The dragon shifts back into a Gnome, again casting another spell.

---------------------
Cast Spontaneous Search. I've basically took 10 on a Search check over the entire room (including the caskets), looking specifically for switches or levers that might open a doorway.

[Wraithkin]

Leth'nil looks at his ally and quirks an eyebrow. With a smooth motion, his ninja hood and mask with his sunlenses are replaced, and he walks over to stand behind Troce. His crystal skitters down Troce's back and climbs up onto Leth'nil as the man watches and waits.

[Robek]

Talbot comes out of hiding and watches as the wall is hailed by spells. He then goes to the marks on the wall and watches them, to see if they are in a language he understands.

[nysisobli]

The wall is not affected at all, the marks are still swirling, and they are in no comprehensible language.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Seemingly losing his grip on reality the now gibbering Gnome pulls a tiny silver fork from his belt pouch, shifts into the form of a Girallon and casts another spell.

----------------
Casting Plane Shift and aiming for the Astral Plane.

[nysisobli]

24 hours have passed, and those hours seemed life an eternity. The walls runes, had changed color to a magenta and a passage way opens on the east wall. The passage way extends 500 feet, and is made of the same mysterious stone. There is a door on the other end.

[Wraithkin]

For the first time, mortal time seemed to take forever to pass. Normally a day was a blink of his eye; a decade a footnote. But these twenty-four hours... they seemed like years. Two hours in, he paced the room. Five hours in, he talked to his rock. Fourteen hours in, he began to meditate, knowing if they were to find an answer, he would need his full complement of abilities. Twenty three hours in, he refreshed his protective abilities and he started pacing again. When the door appeared, he thought his eyes were deceiving him. But, other abilities of his confirmed the door's appearance.

"Troce." His head remains pointed at the door.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Seeing the door open the Gnome finishes casting a set of spells and walks down the corridor, secretly hoping it closes behind him and traps the psychopaths within.

As he walks he conjures a Water Elemental vaguely in the shape of a fox to move 30ft ahead of him, recalling it each time it fades back into nothingness.
------------------------
I've cast Overland Flight and Mind Blank.

Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

Using Summon Elemental feat to conjure a Small Water Elemental (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/monsters/elemental.htm#waterElemental). I have a Summon Monster V spell available, so each one will last for 30 seconds.

[nysisobli]

Nothing eventful happens as you pass through the hallway, when you reach the door on the opposite wall it has a warning carved in it.

Greed will get you nothing here, except a one way trip. If you wish to slumber here, do so before the next. The path before you is older then you think, do not try to destruction or only sorrow you will weep.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

The Gnome ignores the warning. He didn't want t be here, and considering the contingencies he had in effect dying wouldn't be the worst thing in the multiverse.

Floating upwards he opened the door, conjuring a monkey shaped fire elemental just before he did.

[nysisobli]

The door opens, hitting you with the smell of fresh air, as soon as your eyes adjust to the shifting light in the room you see hundreds of suits of armor against the east wall.

On the wall to the west, you notice a large pile of treasure. The ceiling is whats allowing the light through you notice after several moments, and realize it is cracked in multiple places. There is a door on the other side, marked with a large dragon eye.


edit: Analyze Dwomer had no effect.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Right so no greed, no destruction and sleep is ok Got it.

The gnome floats into the room, keeping an eye out for anything likely to kill him, like immortal superbeings from the previous room.

Ignoring the pile of gold h headed for the dragon eye door, making sure to stay out of he direct line to it, he knew far to well what happened to people who weren't paranoid enough about traps.

Reaching the other side he focussed his power upon it, checking for something that he wasn't sure about.

------------------
Detect Magic on the door followed by the rest of he room.

[nysisobli]

Everything in the room lets off a strong magical aura, however the door lets off an overwhelming magical aura.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

Stunned by the magic the Gnome did a barrel roll, knocked back by the sheer force of it.

"Well that was stupid" he grumbled to himself a he tried to open the door.

[nysisobli]

The door is locked.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

"Wanna do it the hard way huh? Fine, I can play tricky too."

Interlocking his fingers and cracking his knuckles the Gnome flew backwards and up away from the door. Once a suitable distance he conjured an Earth Elemental and with a snap of his fingers a ripple fell through the air and hit the door, causing it to glow purple.

--------
Summon Small Earth Elemental.
Cast Knock on the door.

[Kobold-Bard]

Krall

As the light faded and the door creaked open, an unholy power rushed through the gap and annihilated everything in the rooms. Nothing was spared and as the universe melted Krall Maenrad, the Whisper Gnome Diviner had only one thought.

Should have seen that coming.

[nysisobli]

Krall

As the light faded and the door creaked open, an unholy power rushed through the gap and annihilated everything in the rooms. Nothing was spared and as the universe melted Krall Maenrad, the Whisper Gnome Diviner had only one thought.

Should have seen that coming.


Or thats what would have happened, had the Gnome not realized the door opening lead to sunlight itself. He was staring outside, he was outside a Small town, about 200 yards away, the temple nowhere in sight. However the warning still played inside his mind. The elementals still patrolling next to him looked on with anticipation.

[Wraithkin]

Leth'nil looks at the door with skepticism, and waits for the others to make their move. His little crystal scurries back around behind him, under his cloak, hiding from the world. It would appear that discretion is the better part of valor for his crystal.