Shadow of the Mirror Mountains [IC]

[Eldan]

"The council recognizes Urien Nemanja, Ambassador of Cem Lucius Otieno Penkawr, Emperor of Isidra, Protector of Kyria!"

The voice of the announcer rings out over the the agora. A good dozen members of the citizens council are standing under the fig and mulberry trees that were planted back in the first generation of settlers to provide soome shade to the proceedings here, between the three Ziggurats of Olynth: the Hall of Thrones, dedicated to Mother Isis, Lady of Mysteries; the Hall of Fires, dedicated to the study of magic and the philosophies; and the Hall of Writing, where fifty scribes labour day and night on the administration of the city.

Urien Nemanja steps forward, leaving his four slaves behind to watch after the rich gifts he bears. His ancestors must have been human, but there are other races in him: his skin shimmers, golden and reflective, with the blood of the Outlands' exemplars, and his bulging muscles and at least seven feet of height betray more than a drop of giant blood. He is the ambassador of Isidra, clad in simple-cut robes of black and gold.

He steps before the assembly and bows, first to the council, then the priestess of Isis standing opposite, on the steps of her temple, her symbols - a knot and a twig- in hand, wearing the serene mask and throne helmet of her godess.

"I thank you all for giving me the opportunity to speak"
The ambassador's voice is deep and resonates like a giant bronze bell.
"I know that many rumours circulate about the Emperor. It is said that he is a giant twenty feet tall that eats the children of his enemies. That he is merciless and cruel to his subjects.
"I assure you, that is not the case. Cem Lucius Otieno Penkawr is a wise and learned man, a great magus gifted with the powers of a seer. He stays awake every night, telling the future from the stars and the shadow of the spire.
And he has seen dire portents. The Khaasta are massing in the eastern desert."
He pauses for effect.
"I see you are sceptical. Of course you are. Have not the walls of Soteria protected us all for centuries against the raiders? They have, but the Emperor has seen that Soteria will fall, its fields will burn, its people will die under the swords of a new enemy coming from the desert.
But the Emperor has seen a way to stop them. His Phalanxes are strong, stronger than any army the six cities have ever had. If the six cities unite behind him, we can prevail.
People of Olynth, I have an offer for you. We do not need your armies, or your steel. But we need your fields, your farms, your floods. Pay a Tithe to the Emperor, and he will forge an army that will protect us all for eternity. A tenth of your lentils, your wheat, your beans, your chickpeas and your barley, but not your wine, your melons, your vegetables, your flax or your wine. A small price, for your safety.
As a gesture of good will, he has brought you these gifts, as a token of his friendship."
He bows again, and nods to his slaves as he walks back into the shade, backwards, his head still bent to the priestess and the council members. The slaves step forward, each carrying a basket, which they set down and uncover. A basket of deep green emeralds, each the size of a pea. A basket of incense, glittering golden in the sunlight. A basket of scrolls, tightly wound cylinders of ancient writings from before the settlement. And a final basket filled with swords, twelve gleaming long blades of the finest steel of Aurelia.

[Sallera]

The many-faceted ruby at the tip of Maiya Houren's red gold scepter glimmers with an inner fire that seems to match the one in her deep blue eyes as she steps forward, the heat of the square once she leaves the shade not seeming to bother her in the slightest. An elegant, tightly wrapped garment of violet tied with a wide belt of black covers her short form, and her long copper braid catches the sun as she turns to face the ambassador.

"The council has heard your warning and your offer. Permit us some time to give them the attention they deserve." Her voice rings through the square, but she does not linger; nodding to Urien, she turns and walks back to the other council members, glancing at each of their faces as they gather in.

"Well, what are your thoughts?" she asks, her voice this time pitched much lower so as not to carry. "This news of the Khaasta is troubling, if true, but it is not an easy thing to verify." Turning to the member responsible for the city's food stores, she studies him for a moment. "Before we consider the merits of accepting or rejecting this offer, in fact, should come the question of whether we can afford this 'tithe' at all. Our fields are rich, but ten percent is a large amount. How much are we reserving against calamity? If we were to accept, what would be the effect on our trade with Aurelia?"

[Eldan]

There are excited murmurs among the council members. Among them, Maiya spots Muiredach Shahnaz, the military commander of the city, an old veteran of three campaigns in the struggles between the cities. He wears a simple, short white robe and worn, if well-cared for greaves and scale armour of bronze. His hair is grey and cut down to a short stubble, and he is unarmed, as tradition demands of soldiers on the agora.
"It is arrogant. The Khaasta have massed every second year at least, for as long as I can remember. They gain all their riches from raiding the cities, and probably half their food. And there is no evidence at all of some new enemy, except their emperor's visions, if he even has them. I say we burn the gifts, kill the ambassor's mounts and let him return to his master on foot."
Next to him, Harvat Medley, head of the honourable guild of scribes and accountants shakes his head.
"Insults will not serve us at all. I do not have the exact numbers, but we usually export at least one fifth of our stores every year. Half of that for protection is not a bad deal, in my opinion, especially if we can make corresponding cuts in our own military expenses."

[Sallera]

"Could we afford to cut our own military expenditures?" Maiya frowns, casting a meaningful glance over her shoulder. "We cannot entirely discount the possibility that Penkawr has his eyes firmly set on the stars over our own heads. We do not want to insult him unnecessarily, but we cannot afford to put ourselves in a position where we are a target of opportunity, either. War in our fields could decimate the whole region's food supplies."

Taking a deep breath, Maiya turns to face the commander. "Muiredach, think you that Isidra could increase its stores significantly, were we to accept this offer, or would they remain reliant on our contributions to maintain their standing forces?"

[Eldan]

Muiredach frowns as he consider the questions.
"I don't have any numbers, but I suppose they are buying significant amounts from us already. They need grain if they want to feed troops any distance away from home. So, they would save gold, not gain more food. Gold they could spend on weapons and infrastructure."

He sighs and waves a hand.
"Apart from that, if they decide to attack us, we have little chance anyway with our current troops. I have one phalanx I consider trained, and a few hundred farmers who can barely hold a spear."

[Sallera]

"So we must make sure he does not come to see us as a costless acquisition." Maiya closes her eyes for a minute in thought, the four points of her crown flickering as the red gold resonates with her ever-present mantras. "I, for one, would not see us viewed by the other cities as a pawn of Isidra. Refusing the gifts and sending the ambassador back in disgrace, however, would make us enemies for no reason. Penkawr must know at least a little of our strength, and if he can divine as much as they claim, it may be more than that."

Her eyes flicker open, reading the faces of each of the council members in turn. "How much time, think you, could we gain if we accept their gifts and friendship, and send the ambassador back to Isidra with a request for more time to fully examine the realities of the matter? They think us willing, but not wanting to appear too eager to please. And we may send an envoy of our own to Soteria, to learn if they have caught wind of any hints of this new enemy Isidra claims to exist. After all... the thought may be dark, but it cannot help occuring to me that even if everything Urien has said is true, Penkawr may have no intention of preventing Soteria's fall, when the time comes."

[Eldan]

A third council member, a rich, old and certainly shrewd trader by the name of Celius, clad today in a blue robe and silver ornaments, speaks up:
"Two weeks, at least? One for the ambassador to get back to Isidra, and another for a reply to reach us."

[Sallera]

"It is not much, but it could be enough. I would fain keep him waiting longer, but we cannot afford an excess of indecision. Has anyone else thoughts to add?" Maiya looks around the assembly encouragingly, once more meeting every member's gaze. "If not, then shall we vote on the proposal?"

[Eldan]

The assorted council members nod, though Celius shakes his bald head slowly.
"The idea is basically sound. However, unless we can get an incredibly fast message to Soteria and back before the Emperor hears our decision, there is little use to it."

[Sallera]

Maiya taps her scepter against one hand thoughtfully. "Know you the approximate distance to Soteria, Celius? If necessary, I could go myself on wings of fire, but if even that would not leave enough time for discussions, we may have to reconsider."

[Eldan]

Celius scratches his skin and glances up at the bright golden sky as he does a few quick sums in his head.
"Hm. No, Soteria won't be much closer than Isidra this month. A fast horse might make it in six days, but only if the roads are good and it would probably fall over dead on arrival. Someone might have a carrier pigeon for Soteria left, though."*

*I'm going with a little quirk of Outland geography here: locations can change place relative to each other a bit over time.

[Sallera]

"Six days may be enough. I can match the pace of a fast horse with my arts, and wings need no roads. It leaves but a night and a day to gain audience with the upper ranks of the military, but I believe I can speak with the right people to make that happen."

Maiya waves a hand to encompass the council. "Still, it is uncertain that this course of action will be helpful. You have heard our thoughts; let us cast our votes. It would seem our choices are immediate acceptance, rejection, or a delay to seek more information. I would delay." She looks to her left, seeking the next member's vote.

Knowledge: Nobility: [roll0]

Hrm, hope that's enough. Can change post and decision if it's not.

[Eldan]

I'd like to see a Diplomacy check as well, to see how much you can sway the vote with your influence.

[Sallera]

As you wish: [roll0]

Although the lack of a Diplomacy check this time was deliberate, I suppose there's going to be passive influence anyway. Maiya's actually a bit unsure about the proper course of action even now, so she's not trying too hard to sway this particular vote in her favour.

[Eldan]

It just seemed appropriate after a minute of talking.

There is a quick show of hands, and a scribe counting and tallying the votes on a scroll across his knees. While there are no votes for shaming the ambassador in the manner proposed by Muiredach, a good third of the council, mostly merchants and craftsmen, vote for acceptance while land owners, farmers and the scribes, priests, mages and Muiredach himself vote with Maiya's plan for delaying. There are more than a few angry glares between the two parties.

Nodding, the priestess of Isis, nameless and masked by tradition, turns and addresses the ambassador, her voice hollow and toneless behind the mask.
"Hear the wisdom of the council of Olynth, as guided by the Lady Isis! Urien Nemanja: we value the friendship of your Lord, Emperor Penkawr of Isidra and Protector of Kyria! We gratefully accept your gift and would talk more with your Master on the matters proposed. Please bear this message to him, that we would like him to send merchants, scribes and officials, to discuss the details on the contract, and finalize it, as well as matter of transport. Furthermore, we would ask you to enjoy our hospitality for another few days, while we gather return gifts appropriate to the greatness of your lord."

The Ambassador bows and wordlessly retreats into the shadow, a sly little smile on his face.

[Sallera]

Seeing the glares thrown across the council circle as the priestess gives voice to their decision, Maiya taps the end of her scepter on the stone after the ambassador withdraws. "Remember what we are striving for. Olynth must retain its own identity as we grow; we cannot be only a garden for the other cities, or we will fade and disappear. But with trade and diplomacy comes the inevitability of compromise. Do not get too caught up in pride; if you mislike the decision we made today, then devote yourselves to analysing the implications so that we can devise a better solution in the future."

As the council disperses, Maiya catches up to one of the younger mages from the Hall of Fires. "Tabitha, a moment, please. I imagine those scrolls will end up in the Hall of Fires sooner rather than later; kindly assemble a small group to focus on translating any that need it, and keep an eye on the apparent authenticity of the sources. Compile a summary of what you can for my return; I would know what Isidra wants us to know - or think."

A bit of Diplomacy to mend that rift a little and keep the council on task: [roll0]

[Eldan]

Sorry for that delay. I got stuck without net access for a while and did not want to type a game post on my phne.

There are a few nods and generally positive-sounding grunts as the council disperses. The mood seems to have calmed considerably, even if some of those present are still whispering to each other.

Tabitha bows with her arms folded over her chest. "Yes, Mistress. The scrolls have already been brought to the Hall of Fires, we shall start translating immediately."

[Sallera]

Nodding a farewell to the other mage, Maiya withdraws, assembling a pack with food and water for the journey; a tap of her scepter locks it shut against damage or theft. She adds a tent, a knife, and a few other necessities, the same energies that invisibly shield her person redirecting a little of their force to lighten the load to the point where she barely notices it. She takes some time to meditate in her quarters, preparing for the dangers of the road, then takes her leave of the council members still around. The ambassador is being suitably entertained, or so she hopes, but she leaves the city on foot anyway. There was no need to let everyone in Olynth know she was setting out, and where; the rest of the council would tell those who needed to know if and when they needed to.

With half a mile between her and the gates, she stops and looks at the sky, spreading her arms and beginning a low chant. At first, it is a murmur of promises frozen in ice, tempered with a hymn of triumphant return, and blue flames curl around her, renewing her already considerable protections from the blinding desert sun. Uplifting words of fire and lofting smoke spill out from her mouth, and the phoenix amulet hanging from her neck begins to glow with heat and light, shedding a golden radiance that condenses around her arms until they burst into flame, discorporating into barely solid wings that catch the air and lift her skyward. A single beat, and she is soaring above the road to Soteria.

Going to use Vigor to sustain a forced march pace, stopping only to eat, drink and sleep as necessary. That ought to roughly match a fast horse on a good road doing the same routine, barring trouble along the way, so we'll see if the timing's sufficient.

[Eldan]

Soon, Maiya is gliding along on her fiery wings. The Sky, of a dull orange at first, soon turns a brilliant, golden-white colour, and the light catches in the spireward faces of the Mirror mountains, turning them too bright to look upon.

The landscape this far spirewards of the mountain's shadow soon turns into a dead wasteland, where a few sparse, thorny bushes and brown tufts of grass are the only visible living thing, clinging to the shade of the sandstone boulders strewn across the landscape. In places, there are shallow depressions filled with blackish glass where the light fell through one of the natural lenses the mountains sometimes form and blasted a crater in the ground. Apart from that, there are only the dunes, mountains of beige sand slowly pushed across the waste.

The only sound, here, is the howling of the wind, and the singing of the dunes. Or so it is: for the longest time: suddenly, hours into the journey, there is a piercing, high-pitched shriek on the wind, a hunting cry. In the distance behind her, but rapidly closing, Maiya sees a shadow, outlined against the mountain faces.

Spot and Initiative checks are appropriate.

[Sallera]

Alerted by the cry, Maiya wheels around to the side, briefly travelling parallel to the mountains as she attempts to get a better look at what approaches. The glare off the mountain faces makes it a difficult task, however, and she cannot shade her eyes with wings of fire.

Initiative: [roll0]
Spot: [roll1]

Oh, and two related rules questions. Since Mantras are actively maintained, can they be dismissed as a free action, or does it still take a standard? And does Warcaster's somatic component fix apply to Fire Wings, or do you still need to have actual hands for that?

[Eldan]

I just did quite a bit of rewriting on the basic mechanics in the Arcane thread. This included a section on dismissing mantras (a free action).

The battle mage really only applies to weapons and shields, not other things that take away the use of your hands. With Fire Wings, you don't even have arms anymore.


The shadow grows: whatever that shape is, it is slowly gaining on Maiya. Soon, it becomes large enough to make out more clearly: snow-white feathered wings stretch out twenty or thirty feet wide, holding aloft a slender, catlike torso with four muscular, clawed hands. The head of a white eagle completes the figure: a snow-white griffon.
And, sitting on the griffon's back, a humanoid figure, hooded and robed, looking tiny by comparison to its mount. In its hands, the figure holds a recurved composite bow, an arrow already notched.

[Sallera]

A mounted archer in this terrain? Dangerous, if it was hostile, and probably not shy about attacking someone wreathed in fire. But its greatest advantage could be turned to a vulnerability, with the right tactics, and such a large winged creature likely couldn't turn especially fast.

Well, it was clearly faster than her, so her first step was to close the distance either way. With luck, overconfidence would show its mark. Turning directly toward the griffon, she shoots forward in a slowly rolling curve, fiery wings beating a pattern in front of her to fend off any lucky arrows.

About what I figured, although expended focus after dismissing a mantra modifies the forced march plans slightly. Probably not enough to become relevant, just means actually making the Con checks becomes more useful.

Anyway, I assume from that it's Maiya's turn. Total Defense, and move directly toward the archer. Let me know when relative distances become close enough for tactical considerations.

Also, is that description meant to imply a Small-sized rider, or just a Medium one (assuming I get close enough to tell the difference, of course)?

[Eldan]

The hooded figure stands up in the griffon's saddle (a complicated affair with many leather straps, apparently designed to keep the archer sitting even during complicated manoeuvres), notches a broad-headed arrow and pulls the string back as it sees Maiya turning about and heading back. After a second of aiming, it lets fly, but the arrow goes off the mark, if only by one or two feet.
The white griffon, seeing its target approaching, shrieks again, claws extending from it's raised forelegs.

Since the griffon's speed is 80, I'm putting "tactical" range at 160 feet, or as fast as it can move in a turn. The rider is indeed small sized. During it's turn, the archer fires, but misses you.

[Sallera]

Alright, definitely not a friendly hunter. Not that she had expected one, of course. Twitching to one side to dodge the arrow, Maiya rolls and begins ascending with strong beats of her wings; looking straight toward the mountains wasn't doing her vision any favours. She keeps up the slightly irregular pattern of movement, the warding flames keeping her form indistinct.

Sounds about right. Roughly how close are we at the moment?

Maiya will continue moving toward the rider in Total Defense, but she's also ascending at a 60 degree angle now, attempting to get above it.

[Eldan]

I'm putting you at 160 feet, as of after this post. So, from now on ,the Griffon can charge.

The rider kicks his heels into the white griffon, and the animal begins to climb. The bow is readied again, and after more aiming, another arrow is let lose, again narrowly missing the phoenix mage.

[Sallera]

Show the enemy hesitation. A change in attitude drew predators like blood. And when the time was right... reverse the situation. As the second arrow passes beneath her, Maiya angles her flight even further, shooting straight up as though she were having second thoughts about the confrontation, but her warding posture doesn't change.

In that case, we'd best make sure it can't. Maiya needs to be the one charging. <<;;

Total Defense, move 30ft straight up.

[Eldan]

The rider stares for a moment as Maiya soars out of his reach, then shouts angrily and pats his griffon on the back. The creature immediately curves and folds its wings and starts to plummet down towards the ground.

The griffon drops down 80 feet and is now almost perfectly below you, 150 feet down.

[Sallera]

Perhaps the rider had realized the potential danger in time to mitigate it, but not in time to retreat. Tucking her wings, Maiya drops straight downward in a tight helix, slamming into the rider like a falling comet wreathed in gold and blue. Flames flare and curl around him, her burning wings seeking the restraints holding him to the saddle.

Charge and grapple the rider.
Touch attack: [roll0]
Grapple check: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[Eldan]

The rider first screams, then goes limp as his coat catches fire, falling unconscious.
But then, a deep, resounding voice comes from the riding beast below.
"That takes care of the little pest. And now for you, little firebird..."
The griffon bends his neck at an almost impossible-seeming angle, the sharp beak coming around to hack at Maiya. All the while, it is still falling towards the ground at an alarming rate.
[roll0]
[roll1]

Maiya takes 11 damage.

[Sallera]

Maiya grits her teeth as the griffon's beak slices into her arm, the cold fire licking out and riming its face with frost even as it withdraws. "Think you I be prey, O hunter of the wastes?" Buffeting it about the head with each bright-burning arm, she kicks off from the unconscious rider, flaring her wings to stabilize her flight while allowing the griffon to continue downward. "That is not the worst I can do. Be off with you."

Fire Shield damage: [roll0] cold

Attack 1: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2] fire
Attack 2: [roll3]
Damage: [roll4] fire

[Eldan]

"Fire and Ice, little bird? What many talents you have. I have one as well."

The beast executes a complicated maneuver in the air, an almost full sideways roll, and slashes out with all four of its clawed legs to hold Maiya tight before she can get away.

Attack: [roll0]

Grapple:[roll1]

The Griffon tries to grapple you as you disengage.

[Sallera]

Captured and bound, Maiya falls silent and lets the griffon support her weight, turning the full attention of her wings to forcing golden fire into her foe's flesh.

Can't beat that check, so I assume Maiya takes some amount of unarmed damage.
Fire Shield retaliation: [roll0] cold

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2] fire

...I was going to use Intimidate, but it would be more useful if it lasted longer than one bleeding round. -.-

[Eldan]

Actually, the Griffon doesn't use his natural weapons. He's just grappling and diving towards the ground.

"You do burn bright, little bird. But there are things that are beyond you. Things little birds should not get involved in."

[Sallera]

"And big birds should, be that what you suggest? In that case..." Hooking her wings around the griffon's head, Maiya forces its head downward, flames of gold and blue eclipsing its view of the world until all it can see is her stare.

"...perhaps you should not be trying so hard to involve me."

Intimidate: [roll0]