The Colonization of Terenuri (IC 2)

[Meltheim]

Page reserved for synopsis of The Colonization of Terenuri (IC) (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?228083-The-Colonization-of-Terenuri-(IC)) thread

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston - Caves]

The roaring sound that has filled the party's ears since they initially arrived appears to quiet some as the alien monstrosity disappears from view. Each person still has the ringing of SOON in their head, the way in which a large explosion leaves a ringing in one's ears.

The high priest remains frozen and unmoving, and the ice itself does not appear to be melting despite the relatively temperate, humid environment. The remaining statue's eye no longer gleams, and the alter and tome also appear inert. Althanis clutches the ritual book in his hands, encased in ice, though Roman was able to snatch one page before the horrific explosion suddenly ended the combat.

From within the water, from beyond the cavern walls, seemingly from beyond the borders of reality, you suddenly hear it. A hideous shriek, like the unearthly call you’ve heard so often since your arrival at Paddleston, but somehow changed. Somehow even worse . . .

It is a cry of rage, of fury unabated. Without pause, without breath, it continues, rises, until you can scarcely hear your own thoughts. On it goes, and on, for minutes on end, until you fear your very sanity must crumble beneath its weight.

And then, just like that, it is gone.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Paddleston - Caves]

Roman sees, through eyes half-open, his friends and allies stop staggering and clutching at their heads. He ends his meditative chant and takes the plugs from his ears, murmuring thanks to Lady Visenia for her boon of mental protection.

Finding none of his party in immediate need of help, the eladrin then takes special inks and powders and specially prepared paper from among his magical supplies and quickly performs a ritual to capture the image of the frozen squid-priest in detail. The page also shows the intact statue and the altar, in gruesome, evocative color. "Perhaps Terza or the townsfolk will know who this man is. I should also ask them to direct me to a wise elder who might know how to read this page ... and whether it's safe to do so. I don't want to even attempt prying the rest of the book from his hands. That might have even more groteque results, or cause him to come back to life. Mysterious are the ways of this alien magic." He sounds detached, as if retreating to a rote persona for the task of dealing with horror.

Besides a lot of talking, I mean. :smalltongue: I'm claiming that Mental Block protected me from the worst of the psychic scream, and I'm using Photostatic Limning ritual to take a picture.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Paddleston - Caves]

Hacking away at the ice surrounding his legs, Hallowhiem steps towards the frozen man. "I want answers. What is coming SOON? Either I will take them from this man, or if we deem him too dangerous, I will smite him."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia leans against the cave wall. She rubs her forehead, trying to dispel the remaining headache from that spirits foresaken screaming. "I'd like answers as much as you do, Hal. I don't know if this one is going to give them to us. He seems more devoted than anyone to this... whatever it is." She glances down at his legs that had been replaced by tentacles with a shudder.

"I don't have any problem if you want to try to revive him to get some answers, but I wouldn't expect much. I'd suggest we do something to restrain him and blindfold him before you try though." She pulls a stray lock of red hair out of her eyes and tucks it back behind her horns.

[Bounty Hunter]

Jastor Fontaine (https://www.dropbox.com/s/w515oqcaa6y944y/Jastor%20Fontaine.pdf?dl=0)

"I'd have to agree with Damaia..." Jastor comments. "If we're going to free him here and now we best have a plan to restrain him in some manner once he's free form his icy prison. Assuming he even survived of course..." The sorcerer eyes the frozen high priest and the blood running from his eyes. He wonders whether the man had once been of nobler cause and then somehow fell to the state they currently found him in or if he had always been such a zealot. Perhaps they'd get a chance to ask him that if he had survived the whole ordeal ... and the wrath of Hallowhiem of course.

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston - Caves]

The party is able to free themselves from the ice with relative ease, though High Priest Althanis remains encased in his frosty prison. Damaia's flaming rapier appears to produce enough heat to begin melting Althanis, though any chance of interrogating the man seems to disappear when the man's fingers, then hand, appear to fall off. As the ice continues to melt away, other body parts drop, some shattering on impact, others landing with a discomforting squelch.

"Hello? You guys alive down there?" a voice shouts from near the mouth of the cave. A torchlight appears from above, as faces come into view. "Roman, say something! The rain . . . it stopped!" Terza and two of her guards arrive on the scene. "I didn't feel good about not going with you guys, but after that crazy scream and then the rain stopped, I thought the worst." She regards the frozen Althanis, "So . . . is it over?"

[Shular]

Throk

Throk nudges one of the pieces of Althanis that fell to the ground with his toe. "Yeah," he responds to Terza, "we iced him." With the heat of battle leaving him, he seems to have reverted to his normal laconic self.

[Dimers]

Roman

Roman blinks with a blank look on his face at Throk's pun, then tucks away the rest of his ritual tools as he turns his attention to Terza. "We hope it's over. It's over for the here and now, at least. We and you and your guards seem to have ... put to rest ... the cultists involved. They were --" He struggles to find an appropriate word in the pidgin Eladrin most of the people use for cross-cultural communication. "They were bringing a water-demon here, and we seem to have driven it back to its horrible home. Had lots of tentacles -- like our friend, here --" He taps a piece of the cultist priest. "But much larger. Do you know this man's face, by the way?"

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston - Caves]

"Hmmm" Terza walks forward, peering at the frosty visage of the High Priest. "I can't say that I have. Certainly not looking like that" she says, indicating his tentacles. "I recognize her though, the coot who ran the church, right?" she offers, pointing to the body of Mother Sharallan. "My guess is that she was the 'face' of the operation, and he was the 'brains'. I mean, seems like a sweet old lady could work the recruitment angle more than a creepy old man, right?"

Terza gestures to one of the guards who walks over to the statue and pulls out a knife. Popping the large gemstone free from the eye, he tosses it over to her. She catches it, letting out a low whistle. "Not bad, not bad. Probably fetch a few hundred gold in the right market for this. You guys interested?" One of the other guards rummages around behind the altar and produces a small chest. With a grunt, he forces it open, revealing a half-dozen small vials and a handful of coins. "Decent haul, all considered" Terza offers, "why don't we head back topside before your water demon decides to pay another visit?"

You'll recall that Terza deals in antiquities (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=16937132&postcount=1216)

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Paddleston - Caves]


Perhaps they'd get a chance to ask him that if he had survived the whole ordeal ... and the wrath of Hallowhiem of course.


The man's fingers, then hand, appear to fall off. As the ice continues to melt away, other body parts drop, some shattering on impact, others landing with a discomforting squelch.
"So . . . is it over?"

Sword covered in dark blood, splatters frozen to his armor, his acid splashed shield held at his side, the human stares intently at the meaty slush that was once a cultist. While he normally challenged and cursed his foes, the weight of the rage in his eyes were something so far unseen by his companions. The man was friendly, helpful, joyful when he could be. But he had sworn his oaths, and a Paladin he was. In a low, mechanical voice he mutters, as he watches the tentacles crack and thaw, "It's over. For now."


"why don't we head back topside before your water demon decides to pay another visit?"

Looking away from the first time, seemingly just aware that a second group had entered the cavern. Yes, yes I believe that would be a wise choice of action." Hallowhiem flicks much of the dark blood off his blade onto the ice before him, the hot liquid sizzling against the unnaturally frozen water. Placing the blade his old mentor gave him so long ago, he lets out a deep focused breath, reaching out with his mind, and finding a rhythm he was familiar with. Turning as he stretched out his hand, the air beneath it shimmered, and Jirus reappeared. Both sets of eyes hard and piercing, looking at the combined allies before them. "Let us be done with this place."

Minor: summon Jirus from the Feywyld, spending a surge.

[Bounty Hunter]

Jastor Fontaine (https://www.dropbox.com/s/w515oqcaa6y944y/Jastor%20Fontaine.pdf?dl=0)

Jastor keeps an ever watchful eye as he limps towards the others and begins to follow the group out of the cave. "Encountered much of anything like that in your journeys?" He asks, still unsure of what sort of group he had found himself in, but clearly it was one of people who held at least some talents when the time called for it.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia had heard a thing or two about the group's previous travels, but decided to leave it up to someone who was there to answer Jastor. Instead, she picks over the bodies looking for anything that might be of interest there. If she finds anything she carries it with her for now. Then she begins pointing the easiest path back out of the cave to Terza's guards. "Come on, over here. Be careful there, a trap went off and it could still reignite if you aren't careful."

She leads them up and eventually back to the inn where the group could sit back and nurse their wounds more effectively.

[Bounty Hunter]

Jastor Fontaine (https://www.dropbox.com/s/w515oqcaa6y944y/Jastor%20Fontaine.pdf?dl=0)

Jastor keeps a close follow behind Damaia and is extra cautious not to set of any traps on the way up and out of the cavern. He looked forward to their arrival back at the inn; this day had not at all gone as he had figured it would and he was eager to simply sit for a moment and relax.

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston]

As though it, too, were a tool of the cult and the Dagon creature, storm abates before their eyes. The party emerges from the depths to witness the pounding of the rain die into a fine mist. The clouds shatter like glass, allowing streams of sunlight to pour between them.

That sunlight reveals a town truly, finally, dead. No sign of life remains at all - no sign of any fish-creatures, or crazed cultists, or even willing accomplices. The doors to every house swing on their hinges, open and unbolted for the first time since the party arrived. The only thing remaining in the town are hundreds of lines of footprints on the muddy shore, footprints that finally disappear into the tides of the wrathful, raging sea.

Terza lets out a low whistle as she scans the area, her guards peeking their heads into the various buildings. "So, like I said, we got worried." The path to the inn is straight and clear, and Terza leads the way.

Once inside the inn, Terza takes her cloak off of her shoulders and hangs it on a peg. She motions to one of the guards to assist the party with their own belongings. "Rest up, get some non-poisoned soup in your bellies, then let's figure out what's next. Your Goliath friend has a day head start on you, if you're still heading up the mountain. Shouldn't take you more than a day or so to get there, especially if the weather holds."

[Bounty Hunter]

Jastor Fontaine (https://www.dropbox.com/s/w515oqcaa6y944y/Jastor%20Fontaine.pdf?dl=0)

"Goliath friend?" Jastor asks, clearly out of the loop on something.

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston - Smooth Sailing Inn]

"Yeah," Terza continues, "The Rockseeker fellow, he headed up the mountain yesterday, before you arrived. Wonder if he made it out with this weather . . . " she says, half to herself.

At that moment, Roman's eyes suddenly light up, as if something he'd been rolling around his head finally clicked into place. He holds the ritual page tightly in one hand, and appears to be bobbing his head and moving his lips. Hallowhiem looks at him curiously, his bardic knowledge recognizing the movements and gestures that would indicate rhythm.

"Roman, you seem to have come away from this experience with a little extra in your brain this time. Have you picked up an earworm?" Hal inquires, before realizing that those outside of bardic circles might not recognize the term. "Sort of a parasite, though not one you can see . . ." he continues. Seeing that his explanation is failing, he tries another tactic, "It's just . . . what song is playing in your head, dear friend?"

[Dimers]

Roman


The sunlight reveals a town truly, finally, dead. No sign of life remains at all - no sign of any fish-creatures, or crazed cultists, or even willing accomplices. The doors to every house swing on their hinges, open and unbolted for the first time since the party arrived. The only thing remaining in the town are hundreds of lines of footprints on the muddy shore, footprints that finally disappear into the tides of the wrathful, raging sea.

Along the short hike back to the rain-thrashed inn, the abandoned stillness seems to catch Roman's eye. Though his pensive look remains and he continues mouthing some sort of patterned words, his feet do stop and turn, and he stares at the empty homes twinkling in the sunbeams. He takes in the sight for a moment, then turns back toward the last local bastion of sanity.


"Your Goliath friend has a day head start on you, if you're still heading up the mountain."

"That seems wise, yes. The Solid Folk will need to know about how these latest events ended, as much as they need to hear about the troubles with the Conagree, Ilifar and the Emerald Grove. And --" He flashes an unhappy look to Hallowhiem, then Throk. "And Terenuri, as well. I love my Empire as much as the next man, but it's clear there are unhealthy goings-on within that contingent, too. Jastor, you just missed him ..." Roman chuckles. "He is surprisingly easy to miss for such a sizeable creature; his meditations give him an admirable quality of stillness and grace. But I interrupt myself. Lo-Kag Rockhide is one of the goliath people of the mountains. We won his personal friendship, and he ours, in working together to investigate and combat an alien menace in Conagree territory."


"It's just . . . what song is playing in your head, dear friend?"

"I've racked my brain and can't recall the origin, Hal, though I swear there was some fairy story song it came from. The tune, I know where I heard -- a performance of The Doorways ... no, The Portals, that was it -- The Portals sang this story with a very memorable tune at my University many years ago, and a cluster of students I was close to then produced a copy of the lyrics shortly after the show. I'll try my best to sing it ... mayhap you'll join in, if you recognize the story." The eladrin begins a throaty and somewhat off-key rendition, but with Hallowhiem's help, manages to get through the eerie song.

You know the day destroys the night
Night divides the day
Tried to run, tried to hide
Break on through to the other side

We chased our pleasures here, dug our treasures there
But can you still recall the time we cried
Break on through to the other side

I found an island in your arms, country in your eyes
Arms that chain, eyes that lie
Break on through to the other side

Made the scene week to week, day to day, hour to hour
The gate is straight, deep and wide ...

At this point, Roman looks out the inn's door at the straight and clear path that crossed so many drowned footprints, and he shudders, unable to sing the final line from the song.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Paddleston - Smooth Sailing Inn]

Hallowhiem continues the song with exhausted reverence,
"Break on through to the other side.
Break on through to the other side!"
before ending with apparent insight.

Dismay clear on his face, it's easy to see the wheels spinning in his head. "What if, the song isn't about us breaking through to this land, but a warning of these, these abominations, breaking through to us. From, some, other place." He looks between those gathered around him shock. Yes Roman, we must warn our allies.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk listens to the song. He doesn't really know it, but something about it rings a bell. When it's complete, he sees what can be done about dinner. "So," he says to the rest of the group, "we head out in the morning? We gonna let the new guy (gesturing at Jastor) come along? He seems handy in a fight."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia's face tightens as Hal describes his revelation. "That could be problematic. I can assure you that I have never seen anything like the tentacled... thing that was down in the cave anywhere in Oauhmu. I'm certain there's a great many things in this land I haven't seen, but it seems unusual that I haven't even heard of it. That could easily lend credence to your theory about things breaking through from elsewhere."

She turns to Throk, "I agree, we should probably be off in the morning to the Rockhide range. And I don't mind a bit if the stranger comes along. That is if you don't have anywhere you need to be," she says turning to Jastor. "Whatever you do, I wouldn't suggest staying around here for long."

[Bounty Hunter]

Jastor Fontaine (https://www.dropbox.com/s/w515oqcaa6y944y/Jastor%20Fontaine.pdf?dl=0)

"Aye, I don't particularly have anywhere to be and I don't think I plan on staying here too much longer." The sorcerer comments as he looks around at the group with whom he'd fought off...whatever that thing was. "I've not got much of a plan anyway...just been following where my feet take me and though that has been a rather difficult path as of late I can't say that it's entirely bad." He tightens the pack on his back slightly to adjust it's comfort and doesn't much mind that it literally contains the entirety of his earthly belongings.

"So the morning then?"

[Dimers]

Roman

The wizard's face lights up at Jastor's words. "You'd come with us? That's wonderful! A fellow countryman and arcanist is always a delight, but the fact that you're willing to work with people who seem to keep finding danger, that's the real blessing. Not that we seek out trouble," he adds hurriedly. "It just seems to keep finding us. Throk and Hal and I -- and Jirus -- have had quite a time on this continent. We should tell you about the killer vegetation at some point."

He sighs. "Well. I'm going to see if there's anything in town that might help us reach our next stop, double-check for signs of survivors, perhaps spend some time aiding Terza in antiquities collection. I won't need as much rest overnight. And as flabbergasted as I am at the day's events, and as nice as the weather has suddenly become, I'm sure I'll have no trouble resting tonight."

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Paddleston - Smooth Sailing Inn]

"That is good to hear. Our people do better when we are together, and the mistakes we have made in this land, well, staying together is a wise thing." Petting Jirus on his shoulders, the Paladin looks between those assembled. "There is something I must take care of, before we go. I will return before the morning." There is some sense of finality in his tone. He gives a slight, formal bow, before turning, and leaving back out the door.

Marching through the drying mud, the Paladin makes his way back to the blasphemous church. Sifting slowly through the sanctuary, he removes anything that calls to him. Iconography, holy items, anything that be particularly potent or have simple functional use to the town below. Taking several laps around the church, he draws a series of circles with his grandfather's dagger. Taking a simple stool and setting it just around the last circle, Hallowhiem lets out several deep breaths, before starting a long series of chants, woven together in tunes and harmonies he learned in his time training in the Feywyld. While he never possessed the divine power his mentor had, Hallowheim had found ways to supplement it. His master could perform such miracles, purely by the power of his faith. The Arcane Paladin settled himself deep into his core of spiritual power, reaching out to memories of time not long before he came to this land.

His arcane powers still burgeoning, he had finished his Paladin rites. His mentor, a wise kind Eladrin, had invited him to walk through the Feywyld. They spoke of few things. Duty, honor. How dangerous his profession was. Choosing to place yourself between the innocent and those that would cause them harm. It meant literally taking yourself out of safety, and risking your life so that others might live. Every day. Kelaros had outlived many Paladins too fool hardy to realize their own mortality, and many that had fallen to fear, unable to put themselves out their time and again. And how, those that you faced, had to be either turned from their dark path, or destroyed. Fearing to do your duty would put the lives of countless others in danger, and that blood was in your hands. Their armor was a great asset, but it was the Paladin's heart that was his surest protection against the evils of the world.


His mediation as deep as it would be, Hallowheim reached out with his arcane talent. His words of faith had brought a stillness to the air, but the time for stillness was done. Fire, small and slow, spread over the false church. Fire, a purifying force, covered the building of lies. The dampness still clinging to the forest reigned in the flames, and they focused on the stone building out of place in this land. Pews and tapestries glow, and once the building becomes a furnace, the quarter eladrin begins to throw dark icon after dark icon into the flames.

The people of this land, they had mighty warriors and men and women of great spiritual insight. But they had no Paladins. No one trained to fight against darkness that was pressing itself against the world. Likely that was why these Outsiders choose to attack here, instead of his homeland. With such an array of might protectors, surely the ----











Kelaros had a very specific set of armor he wore. The Eladrin's armor had always had a special shine to it. He never seemed to be without it. It was often said that the only way get him to take it off was from his dead body. A jest, because no one could best Kelaros.

































And now, Hallowhiem found that armor wrapped around his chest.



This day was a dark one.

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston - Smooth Sailing Inn]

"Well if you're sticking around until morning, lets at least get a good night's rest in you all. After a few days of being sodden I'm sure you'll appreciate being warm and dry." Terza says, as one of her guards stokes the fireplace into action. One of the other guards is in the kitchen area, pulling out smoked meats, apples, bread, cheese and the like. After a few minutes, he smiles to himself as he presents a rough smorgasbord of finger foods for the party to munch on while they figure out their next course of action.

At Hallowhiem’s announcement, two of the guards mumble that they are going to secure the area as well – saluting to Terza before they depart after the paladin.

“So,” Terza begins, sitting down and stretching out, “you head up the mountain to do some more talking and then what, to the north?” she says, gesturing toward Damaia, “for support from the Tieflings? Not a bad plan, not a bad plan.” She interlaces her fingers and puts them behind her head, “As for me . . . well, we came her for salvage rights to the coast. Pretty sure we’ve got those now. I’ll send word out to the rest of my crew in the morning and we’ll see about getting some treasure hunting done.”

Pausing to collect her thoughts a moment, she says, “You know, this is a decent midpoint between your colony and . . .” she trails off, talking half to herself, “might be worth setting up shop here, actually.” Nodding, she continues, “Yeah . . . by the time you come through here again, this might be a proper town for all your trading needs!” A wide grin splits her face in two as she looks up toward the ceiling, dreaming of untold possibilities and riches.

**********

Hours pass while the party settles themselves in for the night. Terza sips some wine on the couch, humming to herself idly. The door to the inn opens and her two guards return, carrying a large chest between them. “Alderman’s house. Rest were pretty bare, but this here’s the motherlode.” one of the guards says, as he drops the chest with a heavy THUNK. Terza leans forward and flicks open the latch, the lock appearing to fall apart at her touch.

Lifting the heavy lid reveals several large bundles and a suit of armor. “Hmm” she says to herself, “nothing I’m interested in, but you lot might want to look through here.” She lifts up the armor – it appears to be made of the skin of some animal, with thick black stitching at the seams. “Hide? Maybe? Not sure who this is for – too feminine a cut for the Alderman. As I understand it he was quite . . . rotund. Maybe for his wife?” Terza shrugs, then sets it down and opens some of the bundles. Various amulets and other trinkets, a few bracelets, a belt, a pair of shoes. “Yeah – go wild guys. I figure they owe you this much, right? I don’t know what any of this stuff does, but maybe you can figure it out.”

As the group looks through the contents of the chest, an orange flicker appears at the window. One of the guards peeks through, before turning back, “Fire. At the church!” Terza nods, and the two guards bolt out of the inn at a dead run toward Hallowhiem’s location. Suddenly there is a huge blast of white light as a lightning bolt arcs out of the cloudless sky and strikes the church, then the fire is gone.

“Uh . . . doesn’t lightning usually cause fires?” Terza asks to nobody in particular.

Roman can ‘detect magic’ on the items to get an idea of their properties. Indicate what you’d like in OOC and they will miraculously appear in the chest.

Hallowhiem has himself an Invulnerable Coat of Arnd

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem - [Paddleston - Gleaming Dawn Church]

The armor was tight, but as he breathed it slowly loosened, conforming to his shape. Having previously belonged to an Eladrin, it made sense that it would not fit him exactly. Just as Hallowhiem was realizing what it would take for the armor to come to him, he heard the shouts of the guards. "You ok? You hurt?" The area was filled with smoke and the smell of smoldering wood. A rafter crashed down just as Hallowhiem was jerked to his feet by one of the guards. "C'mon - it might not still be burning, but it's coming down around us!" Yanked out of his reverie, the paladin followed after the guards, a small smirk forming on his face as the church crumbled to the ground behind him.


Everyone Else - [Paddleston - Smooth Sailing Inn]

While the others started through the window at the commotion, Throk picked through the chest, pulling out a pair of boots and bracelets that seemed to suit him. Digging further in, he found what appeared to be a skull with a leather strap along the back. Pulling it down over his face, Throk felt a sense of confidence come over him, as if he knew he could strike fear into the hearts of his enemies. Terza looks back at the half-orc, "Wow. Your friend is out there getting zapped to death and you're playing dress up?"

At that moment, the door opened up as the guards and Hallowhiem walked in. Not only was Hallowhiem not 'zapped to death', but the man's armor gleamed in the moonlight as if it were noon. Terza's jaw dropped, "I thought you said you searched the buildings." She says out of the side of her mouth to one of the guards, who simply shrugged in return. "Well then, you all seem to have benefited from this haul. Let's hope the sea is as fruitful as the land." Looking at Hallowhiem, she continues, "I'm too tired to hear the story now, but I'm definitely pressing you for information on that in the morning" gesturing to his armor.

With a slight flourish, she walks upstairs, the guards posting watch at the door. "See you all in the morning. I can't wait to sleep without that rain pounding on the roof."

[Meltheim]

All - [Paddleston - Smooth Sailing Inn]

With food in their stomachs and the threat of sea monsters behind them, the party found no difficulty getting good rest for the night. The petrichor of the previous day finally gave way to the smell of the ocean - tangy and salty and fishy. Not necessarily a pleasant trade, but at least the smells were clean and honest.

Terza helped the group get their packs together, and slipped a note into Roman's hands, giving him instructions on how to contact her later if need be. The guards each bowed farewells and let the party out into the fresh sun of the new day. Though it had felt like autumn, or even winter, it was still truly spring - the party found the road yielding and the winds favorable, and in little time was back on the main road, heading west toward the Conagree and the Rockhide range. Though it had truly only been a few days, the constant assault of the rain made it feel like weeks, or even months had passed.

The group ate miles and miles as they travelled uneventfully, passing the time sharing details of their exploits with Jastor to bring him up to speed. They talked of the mushrooms at Ilifar, the weird parasitic mind-controlling creatures of Traps, the Satyr, and the vile plant creatures. They shared stories of their times among the elves and the gnomes, and how it all seemed as if some big event was coming, or perhaps returning. Hallowhiem and Roman were each able to feystep once or twice to confirm that the mysterious entity was still lurking in the feywild, though this time it seemed a bit more familiar and less terrifying than before.

Minutes turned to hours, which soon turned to days. Within no time, the party had arrived at the base of the mountains. They could see the small path that led to the gnomish stronghold at the base, but also the winding route that led up, up, up toward the peak. The mountain was wreathed in clouds, and it was there, from talking to Lo-Kag, that the party knew they would meet the Goliaths of the Rockhide Clan.

[Dimers]

Roman -- [Rockhide Range - foothills]

Standing on a flat, lichen-spotted expanse of stone at the end of a small rise, Roman looks up and across the clutter of treetops at the tremendous mountains ahead, giving voice to thoughts that betray his uncertainty about his direction in addition to his ready sense of wonder.

"It nearly strikes me dumb, seeing a mountain so close; the ... the sheer mass is hard to comprehend. I haven't often been closer to real mountain territory back in the Empire. Maps with their squiggly roads and little drawn-on peaks give none of this sense of awe! I hope that Mister Stardawn stood where I am standing. He would have loved to see this.

"And mayhap he's already come this way, spoken with the Rockhide goliaths ... not for our mission, but for the sheer joy of meeting people. A better reason. I hardly even know what to say beyond 'hello', honestly."

He takes a minute to fully calm his breath, murmurs "honorable spirit" in Elvish and gives an Andurii bow of respect in the direction of the nearest peak. Then he slings his pack back on and comments to Hallowhiem, "Sometimes when I look at a wonder of nature like that, I feel like I need not worry about anything in my crazy life. In the end, the mountain will still just be."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Overhearing Roman's comment, Damaia responds, even though it hadn't been directed at her. "That is why most of we Oauhmu revere the natural spirits of the land. I may not be very inclined in that direction personally, but I have to admit, in places like this, even I can almost feel their power. I know your people say they can sometimes feel similar things about your gods, but they are so far removed I have to wonder how. No offense meant to your beliefs, but the nature spirits just seem so much more... present in our world and lives."

Damaia frowns. "At least they usually do. All this talk of your travels through our lands, combined with recent events in Paddleston, have me wondering if they will be so close forever. It seems as if something else is trying to move in to displace the spirits of the wilds. I don't know what it is, but it is dark and threatening and unnatural. At first I came along as a guide and for a little bit of a thrill, but this feels serious to me. There has to be more to do with the Rockhide clan than wave hello."

[Dimers]

Roman -- [Rockhide Range - foothills]

Roman nods with a grave expression at Damaia's words regarding the apparent invasion. "It would be understatement to simply note that I agree." Apparently his mind is working over her other comments simultaneously, though, because a moment later, he adds, "The gods and the great spirits have very different presentations, yes. One does not feel a god; they're too far beyond us, like we are to moss. But their influence and works are very present and make a tremendous difference in even daily life. It's not a thing you can feel, but it's easy to recognize with thinking, and then your thoughts might drive great awe, devotion, pleasure, pride, morale, fear -- many very strong emotions."

[Shular]

Throk

Throk stares up at the mountain, trying to discern what Roman is talking about, but gives up. "It's a big rock," he shrugs.

He turns to the rest of the party. "So are we going to stop at the gnomes first, or go straight up? The gnomes might give us a better idea of what we're walking into."

[Dimers]

Roman

Roman purses his lips thoughtfully. "Ahh, yes, they do know their traps, don't they? It would take us some extra time, but not as much as avoidable death would, that's for certain. How to best get to known Conagree territory from here ..." He trails off and appears to be trying to calculate in his head.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Range - foothills]

Listening as long as he can, Hallowhiem turns to his Eladrin friend. "We have been sent to make alliances, or else we can never return home. We have a strong bond with the Gnomes in their caves. It's the Goliaths that we need to speak with. And the course we need to take, is clear. We march up the mountain, majestic as it is, until we reach the top." His hand resting on the chilled axe on his hip, his determination almost glowing in the sun's bright light.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - foothills]

"Majestic indeed," agrees Roman blithely. "Well, my friend Hal, I trust your judgement, and in all honesty I feel no great desire to go down into tight spaces before going up into this beautiful freedom. So if you lead toward the peaks, so will I follow."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range]

The initial part of the climb is easy, as slow rolling hills slowly give way to rockier terrain. There is a path, not well-worn, but at least present. It looks like it might be a goat trail more than one used by humanoids. After an hour or so, with the path twisting and turning, the party finds that they have walked a few miles, but have only ascended a few hundred feet.

Can I get a round of Endurance checks please? DC 10 to beat.

[Meltheim]

All - Rockhide Range

While stopping to survey the area, the party is able to catch their breath. Looking upward, Roman estimates it is another 2 miles to the top. As he relays this to the team, Jastor, who is breathing particularly hard, turns to the rest of the group with a weak grin. He explains that, while the goings on in Paddleston were intriguing, he is not exactly built for rough travel and rugged terrain. "You all mentioned something about the gnomes at the base of the mountain, having some experience with these ... Far Realm ... creatures, right? I think that I may follow up with them to see if there is anything I can learn about those wispy creatures you encountered earlier."

With that, Jastor bows and extends his hands in the traditional farewell of the island-folk: arms extended forward with the backs of the hands pressed together, and fingers wiggling. It was meant to resemble a jellyfish, or an octopus, or something . . . nobody outside of the islands really understood.

"Until we meet again!" he says while waving. He then turns to make his descent back down the mountain.

1. Enough people passed the Endurance check that you all can continue without needing to rest.
2. Bounty Hunter (Jastor) is departing the group
3. Traveling as you are now, it would take another two days to ascend the mountain, or ....
4. Roman could do something clever (read: something cool on the RP side that breaks the rules) with his knowledge of rituals and the Elixirs of Climbing that he was given by Fitz, Lasaad's apprentice, before the group left.

Elixir of Climbing - Level 6 Consumable

This draught smells of clear air and mountain wildflowers. Consuming it allows you to easily move along walls and other sheer surfaces.

Utility Power (Minor Action)
Effect: You drink the elixir. Until the end of the encounter, you gain a +4 power bonus to Athletics checks to climb.

[Dimers]

Roman Ellanai -- [Rockhide Range]

"Stay well, my friend! May Sehanine's light illuminate your path," Roman calls back to the descending figure. His friendly smile is replaced with a furrowed brow as he turns around to face the great heights yet to be won.

"This may take quite a long time yet. Each cubit of height gained will cost more and more of our strength as we come to steeper slopes -- and we've already lost a measure energy avoiding some obstacles and clambering over others. Throw in the possibility of traps on the trail ... we would be better off climbing straight ..."

Roman's eyes gleam with a prideful cunning. Without another word to his companions, the wizard sets down his pack and starts excavating it, pulling out ritual doodads, powders in labeled glass jars, potion vials and more. He glances up and mentally pulls strips of ivy off nearby trees, cutting each strand with a stroke of his sword. "I'll ... this should only take a few minutes, lads and lass. Bear with me."

In a short time, Roman has produced a sort of tepid, smooth pudding from the liquid of four Potions of Climbing and assorted other things which are not necessarily considered food. "Testing time," he grins, just as he spoons a large glop of the pudding into his mouth. He screws up his face a bit, mumbles "Needs salt" around the mouthful, and then climbs thirty feet up a nearly branchless pine tree as quick as any squirrel. "Hoho, right again!" shouts the ritualist from the treetop. "A master of rituals am I!"

Roman is blushing at his expression of hubris by the time he returns to the ground. He offers the pudding bowl to his bemused traveling companions. "Take a spoonful and don't think about how it tastes. We are going to make amazing time up this mountain, friends!"

[dariathalon]

Damaia

"Good bye and good luck in your travels, Jastor," Damaia says to the retreating sorcerer, as she gives him a hearty wave goodbye. "Sorry you aren't coming with us. I'm sure there's more interesting travels ahead for us."

When Roman stops to brew his special blend, Damaia watches carefully over his shoulder. She's been curious about arcane magic since she first learned of its existence, and this was the first time she'd seen it employed in such a jury rigged manner. She would occasionally ask questions about what he was doing. For a local, her questions were very well-reasoned, showing an already keen understanding of the arcane. Her mentor had obviously taught her well. At one point, she even made a suggestion for reducing the loss of potency that was likely to take while mixing the potions with so many other ingredients.

When it was her turn to take a spoonful of Roman's mixture, Damaia pinched her nose and downed it as quickly as she could. Her face twisted into a grimace at the taste. She rushed to follow it with a swig from her waterskin. And then another swig. "Roman, I applaud your ingenuity in the ways of magic. But when it comes time to cook supper tonight, maybe you'd better let someone else handle that job."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range]

Hallowhiem dismisses Jirus while the others eat Roman's bizarre gruel. Throk makes a comment that it's not as bad as some orcish recipes, while Hal chokes it down with a half-smile.

Invigorated, the party finds that they are able to climb quite easily - finding handholds and footholds on nearly-sheer surfaces and ascending without diffulty. As they move up the mountain, they air cools and the sounds of bird chirps give way to stillness. Another hundred feet go by, then another, then another. At around a mile up, the lungs begin to burn from the exertion and the lack of oxygen, but the party continues upward.

At some point they cross through a thick layer of mist and find themselves in a unique position of being in the middle of the sky - clouds above and clouds below. The stillness here is nearly deafening, and the world seems to stretch for miles in all directions. A large ship glides down the coast, a small village is seen to the north - things and places that the party might never had known about had they remained at ground level.

Climbing further still, Damaia sees what appears to be the top of the mountain. Crying out to the others, they look upward to see a craggy peak, wreathed in clouds, with small shrubs clinging to the side of the rockface. Passing through the cloud layer brings them to yet another vista, as the sun slowly begins to set. The group can now see the curvature of the earth, ever so slightly, and it is truly humbling.

Suddenly, the sound of bells can be heard, tinkling in the distance. The braying of several animals is also heard, along with shouts and yelling. A shape appears briefly at the edge of the cliff face, then retreats. "Nizijski ljudi! Nizijski ljudi!" Shouts come from above, while the group continues to ascend. Several more shapes appear at the edge, before resolving into faces that appear to have been carved from stone. "Pozdravi nizijski ljudi. Obradovati se Anakalathai! Greetings downlanders. Welcome to the Rockhide range." The goliath speaking extends an arm, and helps the party up.

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Rockhide Range]

Damaia takes the Goliath's hand first, accepting his help up the last few feet of the steep climb eagerly. "I thank... you." She says, huffing and puffing between words. She takes one or two more deep breaths, finding the lungfuls of air less satisfying than she'd like, but she forces herself to calm her breathing down some. "I am Damaia Lagos of Ironrock Manor in the northern wastes." she turns indicating her friends as the Goliath also helps them up. "These are my friends Throk, Hallowheim, and Roman. They are from the Terenuri settlement down on the coast. I have to first tell you how rewarding this trip up the mountain has been. I have never been up this far in the mountains before, though I believe my father has sent trade caravans this way. Now I regret not having joined them. It is so beautiful up here."

As the last of the group reaches the top of the ridge, Damaia continues on getting to her point. "We have travelled for a time with Lo-Kag, a member of your clan. The others longer than I, but I still had the pleasure of spending some time with him. I believe he came ahead to prepare for our arrival. Did he share news of our coming with you?"

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Summit]

The Goliath nods at Damaia as he and his companions help the rest of the part up to the summit. He glances down at her mouth several times as she speaks, before shaking his head a little. "Usporite nizinskog osobu . Vaš Elven prebrzo za mene . Zašto ne govorite inteligentni jezik poput naše?" "Slow yourself downlander. Your Elven is too fast for me. Why don't speak an intelligent language like ours?"
Frowning at her lack of understanding, the goliath says, "I speak little Elven. Do you speak Golijat?" Frowning again, he says, "Goliath?"

Out of the corner of his eye, the Goliath notices Throk following along somewhat with his speech. "Snažna , pametna i jaka. Morate bitilider! Izgorio jedan govorio Lo-Kag. On je moj sin. Ja sam Vimak, Chieftan od Anakalathai klana!"
"Strong, smart and fierce. You must be the leader! The flametouched one spoke of Lo-Kag. He is my son. I am Vimak, Chieftan of the Anakalathai clan."

[Shular]

"Vodim kad odlučim," Throk replies cautiously, "ali obično sam dopustiti drugima da donose odluke, a ja koristiti moje snage da im pomogne. Izgorio jedan se zove Damaia. Pitala Lo-KAG vratio na vas i rekao da dolazimo."

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Rockhide Range - Summit]

Making the final ascent, Hallowhiem does his best to breath despite the thin air. In those scant moments, the diplomat watches as the half-Orc starts conversing with the Goliath clan with far more ease than he did for his first few months with the elves. Frustrated, he closes his eyes, stretches out his hand, and summons Jirus to him. The Owlbear appears in a shimmer, head beneath the Paladin's hand, rubbing his ears against the outstretched arm.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Summit]

Vimak smiles broadly at Throk, "Vaš naglasak je od nepoznate planine, ali vi govorite dobro." He shouts to a few others behind him, who come forward with large gourds full of water, offering them to the party. "Pij, molim te, ovo jenajsvježija vodanizinska osoba ikada okusiti."
"Your accent is from an unfamiliar mountain, but you speak well. Drink, please, this is the freshest water a downlander will ever taste."

Those who choose to drink from the gourd will find the water to be crisp, clean, sweet, and cold. Vimak gestures back toward the spring coming down the mountain, then follows it with his finger pointing down to the rivers in the valley floor. He seems to be indicating that their water is pure, from the source, and of a higher quality than that which the rest of the world drinks.

Turning back to Throk, the Chieftan continues, "Lo-Kag vratio jutros, kad zora pozivatelji su pozdravili nebo. On je spomenuo. . . portal . . . i nesveti stvorenja. Bio je vrlo uznemiren, i ode do špilje meditirati . Trebao bi se vratiti večeras."
"Lo-Kag returned this morning, when the Dawncallers welcomed the sky. He mentioned a . . . portal . . . and unholy creatures. He was quite disturbed, and went to the cave to meditate. He should be back this evening."

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Summit]

After drinking deep and long from the proffered gourd, Roman finally comes up for air with a delighted "Ahhhhhhh!" He wipes his chin and listens to the conversation with little comprehension. Hearing "meditirati", he comments, "Yes, this mountaintop would be a excellent, beautiful place to calm one's mind! I look forward to trancing here!"

[Shular]

Throk

After taking a deep drink, Throk explains to the rest of the party that Lo-Kag was here, but doesn't seem to have mentioned that the party was to be expected. He'd apparently mentioned some of what happened, then gone off to meditate. "I think I should just translate, and let someone else do the talking. This friendly conversation stuff doesn't really work for me."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

While the party quenches their thirst, they each feel the effects of Roman's concoction slowly ebbing. Hallowhiem summons his companion of feathers and fur, with Jirus giving a small hoot as he is pulled back to this plane from the Feywild.

When Hallowhiem's ritual finishes, he catches one of the Goliath's from the corner of his eye, giving an approving nod.

Through Throk, Vimak welcomes the group to the 'city' at the summit - row upon row of tents line the area, hides of all sorts of mountainous creatures expertly stitched together to create shelter for the giant-kin. Near the center is a large amphitheater-like structure, with several large stone pillars jutting out from the center. To the far side is a sheer wall where several younglings practice their climbing. Vimak introduces the group to others in the clan, calling them by names and titles each. First is Aukan Bearkiller, the next Keothi Steadyhand, another is Manneo Twice-Orphaned, and so on and so on. The names are in a strange tongue, even to Throk's ears, but within only moments the party is able to understand that the Goliaths tend to refer to each other as their title, or honorific.

Bearkiller was a great hunter who saved a group of younglings from a large cave bear who had come out of hibernation early. Steadyhand was the best with a spear, and once took down an elk from 50 paces. Twice-Orphaned had unfortunately lost both parents at a young age, though through her own ingenuity managed to survive the avalanche and return to the clan relatively unscathed.

Then there were those with less awe-inspiring names, such as Ilikan Latesleeper, who routinely missed the call of the Captain each morning and was left to do mostly menial tasks.

Though there is a complete lack of the trappings found within Andurii culture, the Goliaths are by no means primitive. Their structures may be made of wood and hide, and their weapons of stone and steel, but the craftsmanship is beyond that of all but the best found in the Eastern continent. Stitching is tight and clean, weapons are sharp and smooth. Furthermore, everything is clean and fresh, despite the fact that most everything is open to the elements.

Vimak abruptly stops in front of a large tent and gestures to the group to enter. "Inside, you rest here." he says in a halting, but understandable Elven. "You are guests. You rest now, we feast tonight. Big games tomorrow."

Damaia has enough general knowledge about the Goliaths that she is able to fill them in on the most broadly known behavior, such as:


They love competition, and relish in every opportunity to demonstrate their skill
They believe in honesty, fairness and equality above all else
Each person has a destiny
Each person should strive for excellence in all that they do
Each person must carry their own weight

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

"Vimak ..." Roman hesitates just a moment before blurting out his request, incorrect grammar and all. "Čast osoba, I am enchanted by the view from the peak and would like to rest outside. Where is this allowed, please?" He flicks his eyes to Throk, who rolls his own eyes and translates the wizard's request.

It feels so peaceful and pure up here. I can't imagine why Lo-Kag felt any inclination to leave. Then again, I never understood Passi leaving me, either, but she convinced me it was right for her.

Purity and serenity. No, this doesn't seem like a land whose neighbors have fallen to invaders. I should ask about the Skydancer and Cloudripper folk ... perhaps after the feast and games. I don't care to spoil anyone's appetite or performance.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

(Damaia would have shared what she knows about goliath culture on the climb up, so anyone should be able to read that spoiler, I think.)

Damaia also vies for Vimak's attention as he turns to leave the tent. She speaks in a slow and steady elven, her own skill with the language is good, but she tries to restrict her vocabulary and speed for his benefit. "Vimak, can guests join you in the big games tomorrow? I doubt I am as skilled as your best, but I would like to try. If I can join, what games are expected if that is fair to know? I'd like to practice if I can." If Vimak still looks confused, she requests Throk translate her questions.

As an aside, she says to the others in their tongue, "Remember what I said about their love of competition. Putting out a strong showing should help our cause."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Vimak listens carefully as Damaia speaks. After a moment, a broad smile nearly splits his face in two. "Yes, you can compete. We would love it!" He nods his head enthusiastically, then steps back to exit the tent momentarily. He shouts to someone outside, then returns. "Keokuk will tell you more."

Vimak bows, then exits. Not 10 seconds later, a taller, slimmer Goliath enters.

"Hello, I am Keokuk Cloudchaser. You may call me Keokuk, or Cloudchaser, which ever you prefer." It is clear that Keokuk is much more familiar with the common tongue of Oauhm, and he speaks it gracefully. "There are several games tomorrow, though probably you will want to focus on two or three of them, given your strengths. Cliff-Climb is a race to the top and back to the bottom. Given how easily you ascended our own mountain, you may prove quite skilled at this challenge. There is also Stubborn Root, which I have heard downlanders refer to as King of the Mountain, though we have no kings, and they have no mountains. Wrestling, which is just as it sounds."

Keokuk pauses a moment, looking the group over. "Those are the more physical challenges. Then there is Goat-Ball, which is a team activity involving a goat bladder, played in the amphitheater. And finally there is everyone's favorite storytelling challenge, Drink-And-Tell."

He waits a moment for everything to sink in, "Any questions?"

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Looking at Cloudchaser, he does his best not to let the readjustment to full gravity pull his plate armor drag him down, instead reclining on a well crafted stool. "Those sound like quite interesting games. Being eager to show good will, we also want to ensure that we don't accidentally offend our gracious hosts. Are there any rules, or guidelines, that may not appear obvious to those from down below?"

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

The party remains silent, nodding along with Keokuk's description of the various games. Hallowhiem's question is well received by Keokuk, who smiles broadly, "Yes, rules and guidelines both. We play fair. We play hard, and expect each to do his or her best, but we play fair. There is no glory in cheating or in holding back. If that is all, I suggest you get some rest and then I will see you at the feast!" Keokuk offers before departing.

The sun slowly makes its way across the big, open sky. This high up, it almost appears as if the sun goes below the mountains – the horizon somehow lower than usual. As night settles, the rhythmic pounding of drums begins. The party peeks out of the tent and is treated to dozens and dozens of Goliaths dancing, arm wrestling, drinking and cheering. Apparently most of the clan was away when the party arrived, and they have just now returned.

The main crowd appears to be walking toward the amphitheater, where the party can see Vimak and others of presumably high importance gathered near the center. There are large stone pillars at odd intervals in the center of the area, with small bundles tied upon the top of each.

“Welcome all,” Vimak begins, his voice booming through the area as the music stops. “Tonight is the seventh night of the seventh month, of the seventh year of the cycle. Tomorrow begins The Great Games. I expect great things from all of you, and I know that you will do your best.”

Vimak gestures to the crowd, continuing his speech. “We have guests here, tonight; friends of my son. Let us show them what the Rockhide Clan can do!” With that, the crowd breaks into a huge cheer. Keokuk walks from the crowd to the stage, wearing a goathide stole across his shoulders. “It is true that tomorrow begins The Great Games, and with it the new year. Tonight, however, is for remembering the victors of years past, and the guidance that they provide to those who come after. May the flames of the ancestors guide your way in the darkness.”

Several Goliaths step forward, four women and three men. Each cheers to the crowd and is cheered in response. Each then steps adjacent to one of the pillars in the center stage, while Keokuk raises his hand overhead. From the edge of the amphitheater, several torches suddenly blaze as the party sees seven archers take position. Keokuk drops his hand as the crowd cheers, each of the Goliaths scrabbling up their respective pillars. One takes off like a bolt, getting to the top before the others. His archer shoots a flaming arrow toward him and though he tries to catch, he misses and it sails past. His archer lights another arrow and fires, though at this point two others have already made it to the top as well. More flaming arrows are launched upward as the champions each catch them out of the air, setting ablaze their bundles. The first burns a bright blue, then quickly a red and green flame appear at other pillars.

Those with their fires lit begin descending back to the ground, still racing, apparently. The last to have his flame lit decides to jump to the ground instead, landing hard. The cheering somehow gets louder, and at this point it would not surprise the party if those at the base of the mountain assumed it was a thunderstorm brewing.

Keokuk raises his hand once again and the cheering dies down, as each of the champions makes their way back to the center stage. “Once again, Cliffjumper lives up to his name!” He raises the hand of the winner high in the air, and although the man is visibly injured (possibly even with a broken bone) he smiles broadly and does a bow. The others raise him up on their shoulders and carry him over to one of the tables, placing him at the head.

“Now then, shall we eat?” Vimak shouts, gesturing to the feast tables, overflowing with meat, fruits, tubers and drink. The crowd cheers once again, and begins to take their seats. Vimak gestures to the group, “Come, here, sit with me.” and beckons them over to his table.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Throughout the day Roman drinks in the cool mountain air, his smile and his aura of contentment both growing to the bursting point. Though he visits the four compass-points of the settlement, he mostly stays quiet and takes in the environment. During Vimak's opening speech, he murmurs to Damaia (loudly, so as to be heard over the goliath's own boom and the peaks' echo), "It sounds like a most auspicious time for us to come and visit!"

He thinks of other raucous and physical and honorable people he has known, and makes a mental note to see whether the giantfolk have any ancient myths about dwarves, just as elves and eladrin had spoken of each other in legend.

From the moment the climbers leap to their pillars, Roman's silence is gone as if it had never been. He roars like a lion at each sign of success and does not quiet down until Keokuk's hand rises to call for calm. He goes to Vimak's table with a leap in his step. After a few quick questions on language for Throk, he says with a grand smile, "Hvala i da, Vimak, praksa za piće Piti I Reći! (( Thank and yes, Vimak, practice drink for Drink And Tell! ))"

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Vimak beams at Roman's attempt to speak his language, and grabs his mug, lifting it into the air. He cheers his guests, and then beckons several others over.

The party watches as the hunters comes to the table, each bringing a larger, juicier, better cut of meat. Each mentions how many animals they were able to hunt, or how quickly they brought them down, how close they managed to get before detection or how far their spears were thrown - essentially trying to outdo the others as best they can.

This follows similarly with the drink, as brewmasters do their best to demonstrate their skill in terms of alcohol content, rare ingredients, or even how long the ale brewed.

After eating and drinking his fill, Vimak turns to the group. "So, what brings you to the mountaintop?" he asks, relying on Throk and Keokuk to convey the message appropriately.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Sampling as many types of food in order to find something familiar, he eventually finds a breaded meat of some manner that tastes good. Fortunately, Jirus is far less picky with food from his continent. Doing his best to catch phrases between sips of mead from his enchanted mug, he responds as best he can through those that can interpret for him. "We come to make formal friends, between my Prince and your honorable people. We are eager to bring our people together, for the benefits of both." Doing his best to speak clearly, and taking pauses to allow for translation, the Paladin tries to mimic the body posture he had seen Lo-Kag using.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

"We do not usually trade with lowlanders, though it has happened on occasion. If we cannot find what we need, we move to a new place in the mountain." Vimak says the last before taking another large bite out of a chunk of meat, polishing it off with a swing from his tankard. "Perhaps, should you prove yourselves worthy, we can discuss an arrangement. Are there any games tomorrow in which you are interested in participating? I assure you that we will not go easy on you, so as to not diminish your honor."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia cruches into one of the vegetables. "These goliaths could use a little more spice to their food, it wasn't exactly bad, but her tastes ran a little more toward the spicy. Oh well, most other races seemed to prefer their food bland." Damaia thought as she chewed.

When she heard Vimak's question, she was quick to respond. "Your stubborn root competition sounds most intriguing, I think. I always used to enjoy King of the Mountain as a child, when I could get out from under my tutor's thumb anyway. And you've got one of the biggest mountains here I've ever seen," she says with a smile. "I'm sure I don't have the practice that your people do at climbing, so I think I'd avoid that one. Wrestling..." she shrugs. "Not my things, I guess. If I'm going to challenge someone, I prefer swordplay. Drink and Tell could also be a lot of fun though. We'll have to see."

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

A competitive half-smile crosses Roman's face, and he replies, "Drink and Tell, definitely." I've had years at the Academy that that phrase would describe! "And Goatball. I may have a trick up my sleeve ... er, I'm a cunning player," he revises for the sake of the interpreter. A world without wizards might very well lack tricks-up-sleeves.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]


Smiling, his thoughts paralleling Roman's own, he turns back to Vimak. "We are honored you would give us a chance to compete. I myself look forward to Drink and Tell, and I believe we would be interested collectively in the game of Goatball as well."

[Shular]

Throk

Throk considers the options. He's not averse to climbing, but isn't interested in the jumping off that seems to be the winning tactic. Drink and Tell, well, he's not particularly charming. Now if it was Drink and SCARE...

"I'll give your Stubborn Root a try," he says to the host. "And Goatball could be fun."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

"If Throk's going for Stubborn Root, then perhaps I should try my hand at Climbing. I don't think I've had as much practice as our hosts, but I still might have a shot, and I think its best if we diversify a little. So it sounds like Sudden Root for Throk, Drink and Tell for Hal and Roman, I'll be climbing, and we'll play goatball as a team. Sounds like fun."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

"Excellent!" Vimak cheers to the party as they decide in which of the challenges they will participate. "This will be truly enjoyable. For now, eat and drink. You are our guests!" Vimak cheers the group again, then gets up to walk to the other tables and talk to others of the clan.

The party finds the food and drink to be more than sufficient, if somewhat different than what they are used to. They are able to observe the other Goliaths, discuss amongst themselves, or simply eat and drink to their hearts content. After an hour or so, the party begins to die down as each heads to their tent in preparation for the events of the next day.

The events of the next day will be a bit tricky, mechanically, to play out, since not everyone is participating in every challenge. Throk and Damaia can go 'simultanously' in a way, and then Roman and Hal can do the Drink and Tell together. Goat ball will essentially be like a combat, in the sense that there will be a map, it will take multiple turns, etc.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

As the sun rises the next morning, the party finds themselves a little worse for wear - having drunk and eaten their fill the night before. An enticing smell drifts through the air, beckoning the group out of their tents. "Kaf?" a small Goliath boy offers to the group, "Kaf?" he says again, holding out a leather cup filled with a smoky, dark liquid. To anyone interested, it smells much like the coffee that Throk enjoyed at the inn at the settlement earlier, though a much richer, thicker brew. "Root and berry and water, nothing else" a voice says, low and rumbling like the thunder, as Keokuk comes from around the cookfires. "To borrow a downlander phrase, it will put hair on your chest." He chuckles as the group slowly spills out of the tents. "Now then, we will give you all some time to wake up, then the games will begin. I'd say you have an hour or so to get ready. Cliff-Climb is over there, and Stubborn Root will follow soon after, on that boulder over there. Wrestling will be in the pit back there. Once everyone is finished, we'll get the Goat Ball competition going later this afternoon. Anyone participating should head to their area, but the rest of you can watch from the crowd if you wish." Children were already practicing, their limbs flailing awkwardly as they tried to prove themselves before the adults came in for the real competition.
********************

An hour passes easily before the air is cut sharply by the sound of a horn, apparently declaring the games open. Goliaths from all over the camp make their way to the different competitions, Damaia and Throk are guided to their respective places as well.

Cliff-Climb appears to be the first competition, and Damaia soon finds herself in the company of several other Goliaths near the amphitheater. Unlike the others she had seen previously, each of these Goliaths appeared to be tall and lanky, more suited to climbing than the more broad-shouldered, stouter individuals who made up a majority of the population. Male and female, they gathered and listened to the rules.

Keokuk addresses the crowd from atop a raised stone, putting him head and shoulders above the rest. "Thank you all for gathering here today. Cliff-Climb is one of the oldest competitions, celebrating the exploits of the great Ulia Dawnsinger Vathakanama, of the Kathaalak clan, nearly five hundred ago. As you recall, the tribal lands were overrun with marauding creatures and it was Ulia Dawnsinger who was able to run the children up the mountain to safety, and to signal the other clans. Her heroism saved her clan from defeat, even though she paid the ultimate price in the end.

Today, we honor her efforts and bravery by racing to the top of the 'cliff' and back, twice. May you find strength and switfness and bravery, as Ulia Dawnsinger did."

The crowd cheers triumphantly in response to Keokuk's rousing speech. The competitors take their places, just as last night, each at the base of a pillar.

Keokuk raises his hand, holding it for a moment while everyone waits in anticipation, tension building. With a downward slash, the competition is on!

Round 1:

Damaia, please make 2 Athletic checks, since you can Move twice per Round.

If you succeed, you can Move your speed up the pillar. The pillar is 6 squares high, and is difficult terrain - which will require 12 total squares of movement to get to the top.

If you fail by 4 or less, you will stay where you are. If you fail by 5 or more, you will fall 2 squares down (or stay at the bottom, if you have not yet climbed)

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia accepts the kaf and drinks it down quickly. It was so hot that most people would have burned their tongues taking the liquid that quickly, but she relied on her natural resistance to protect her. Despite not taking the time to really savor the liquid, it was still refreshing. "Thank you," she says, knowing the likelihood that the boy understood her was slim. Then she goes off to find a cool stream or well to get some water. She gulps down several mouthfuls, enjoying the contrast between the dark rich kaf and cool clean water. Then she takes some more of the water and uses it to bathe and clean herself.

She finds herself refreshed and feeling ready to go when the goliaths come to show her to the starting line. Damaia takes a handful of loose and dry dirt and uses it to absorb the sweat from her palms and add a touch of friction to her fingertips. Goliaths were well-known climbers, so she was a little nervous, but also determined to put forth the best show she could. Her eyes skimmed the surface of the pillar looking for any handholds she could find.

As soon as the signal to go was announced Damaia jumped onto the pillar and began pushing herself up the pillar as fast as possible.


Here are her first two athletics checks. It is impossible for her to fall due to her skill modifier, but she does have a chance to make no progress.
[roll0]
[roll1]

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

Like a bolt of lightning, the Tiefling takes off and scales the pillar without difficulty. She sees from the corner of her vision the other Goliaths climbing with ease as well, though one of them tries to make a leap for the top at the end and misses, sliding down several feet before catching hold again. Damaia gets to the top of the pillar and snatches the flag.

Round 1 done, you've made it to the top. Now, you can jump from the top (3d10 damage), climb halfway down and jump (1d10 damage), or climb the full way down.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia reached the top and spared a split second to glance around at her competitors. Mostly they were right there with her. Some ahead, others behind. If she wanted to have a chance to win this, she'd have to do something extreme. Damaia turned back to the crowds that had gathered to watch and leaped to the ground, tucking into a roll to try to break her fall.

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

Though she falls gracefully, Damaia's land leaves a bit to be desired. She is able to roll out of it and come up next to the judge, handing off her flag and collecting her bundle of rocks. To her left, one Goliath lands hard, almost as if he fell instead of jumped down. He sits up for a moment, looking dazed, as Damaia darts past him and begins her ascent once again. Others are a mix of climbers and jumpers, but it appears definitely that Damaia is in the top 3.

dariathalon, please make another 2 Athletics Checks, this time against DC 20.

Throk - [Rockhide range - Proving Grounds]

Throk and the other competitors for Stubborn Root are directed to a large boulder, upon which stands a small boy. He and other children scramble on the stone, apparently getting in practice before the adults come to participate. Upon seeing the small crowd moving his way, the boy gets startled and half-falls, half-climbs off the boulder.

The sounds of the Cliff-Climb in the distance indicate it is coming to an end shortly.

After Damaia finishes her run at Cliff-Climb, Throk can start up with Stubborn Root.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia's face contorts in pain as she pushes herself to continue. She grabs the bag in between her teeth so that she can use both hands to climb. That jump had been stupid. "STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!" she shouted at herself though the words came out completely muffled through the bag. "Shouldn't have tried that, but if you need to, you damn well better be ready to do it again!" she shouted at herself though it would probably take an expert linguist to even take a stab at what the muffled noises were.

Returning to the base of the pillar she began her climb again.


If I'm not mistaken, Damaia should have an extra minor action lying around somewhere here. She'd like to use it to give herself an inspiring word healing up [roll0] of those lost hp.

Then her two athletics checks.
[roll1]
[roll2]

[Meltheim]

Damaia - Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds

With grit and determination, and a little bit of grace, Damaia once again scales the pillar. She struggles a bit at the beginning, but eventually finds her footing. One of the Goliaths falls during his attempt, and has to start from the bottom. Damaia eventually makes it to the top but is neck and neck with another competitor - the two of them tied for first place. The Goliath is a tall, lanky woman with scars covering her arms and a bright purple belt at her waist. She looks at Damaia and gives a smirk, before placing her bag of rocks down. She then bows to the crowd and begins her descent, half-sliding/half-climbing her way down.

The crowd howls in approval as everyone waits to see who will be the winner.

What will Damaia do next? Please choose as before: Jump from the top (3d10 damage), climb halfway down and jump (1d10 damage), or climb the full way down

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia tosses her bag on the ground at the top of her pillar in frustration with her early struggles. She spares a quick look at the other competitors, just in time to meet eyes with the lanky woman. Damaia grins at her, showing no fear of the competition. A smart climber would turn and descend carefully to the ground, but there was no way she'd beat the other woman to the ground that way. Damaia's competitive instincts didn't let her do anything but her best.

Damaia bends at the waist, which at first looks like it might be a bow to the other woman, but the truth of the matter is quickly revealed as Damaia pitches forward off the edge of the pillar into another tumbling fall. "In for a copper... Let's just hope I don't break anything," Damaia mutters to herself as she rolls head over heels toward the ground.

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

Like a comet streaking toward the ground, Damaia manages to pass the Goliath mid-air and makes a small impact crater upon her landing. Gracefully, she manages to turn it into a somersault and come up on her feet. The Goliath lands next to her and flashes her a quick grin as the two take off, neck and neck, for the finish. Damaia's edge on speed comes through, and she manages to reach the goal an instant before the other competitors.

Sharp whistles, hoots and hollers greet her as she is quickly hoisted up on the shoulders of fans and other competitors. "Damaia Skydiver, the Victor!" Keokuk cheers her success. Damaia's rival in the match extends an arm in embrace, squeezing the woman until she feels her bones will pop. She says something in the Goliath tongue, but flashes a bright smile immediately after, letting Damaia know it was friendly.

"To the Boulder, for the Stubborn Root!" Keokuk declares next, and the crowd moves like a school of fish or a herd of cattle, flowing over the ground and carrying everyone to the next event.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk makes his way to the boulder, feeling a little uncomfortable at having an audience. He'd always used his strength and toughness for survival, not the entertainment of others. However, he IS curious to see how he matches up against these large people. He stands and waits for instructions.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

Roman stands among the goliaths like a sapling in a forest of pines, but he cheers the tiefling's performance as loudly as any. After the crowd moves on toward the next test of prowess, he approaches her with a grand but silent smile, proffering bandages to wrap her ankles.

[Meltheim]

Throk - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

As the stomp of Goliaths makes its way to the large boulder, Keokuk comes up besides Throk and places a hand on his shoulder. "Ready?" he says, in the Goliath native tongue. "Your feet must remain planted firmly, but you can twist at the hips to throw others off." He winks at Throk, then heads down to the pit.

Throk and three other Goliaths ring the boulder. These are much larger, more muscular group than the competitors who attempted the Cliff-Climb, though each could easily be swift of foot as well.

Keokuk raises his arms to get everyone's attention, and begins, just as before. "Thank you all for gathering here today. Stubborn Root is a testament to the Primal Spirits, and the great War of the Elements. When the devouring winds blew and the waves pounded against the Life Tree, it held firm, digging its roots deep and holding tight to the mountain. It was this tree that remained as a beacon to our people, thousands of years ago, guiding us to safety. When the waters receded we found ourselves on a mountain top. The tree provided fruit which nourished us and leaves which sheltered us. The branches we used for weapons, for tools, for building shelters of our own. Today we emulate the tree, demonstrating our strength and flexibility by holding fast to the top of the boulder."

Keokuk looks down at the smaller children attempting to tackle him and chuckles. "The rules are simple. The first to the top has to hold against the onslaught of the others. If you can outlast, then you win. If you are knocked off, you are out. Places, please."

Keokuk gestures as the competitors take their positions. He raises a horn to his lips and blows, and the four competitors race to the boulder! The first scales it easily and gets to the top, but is quickly tackled off by another, who slides down the other side. The boulder remains unclaimed as Throk and the other goliath arrive at its base.

Throk will need to Move to the boulder. The Goliaths have a move of 6 and will get there about the same time. Throk can use the Run action to get there more quickly if he wishes, but will be at a penalty to withstand attacks.

Stubborn Root:
This is similar to the 'king of the mountain' games played by downlander children.

Rules: This is a solo event, in which players compete against each other. The PCs plus 3-6 Goliaths race on foot to the top of a boulder. The first person to the top is the 'stubborn root' and the remaining players take turns trying to knock the person off. The one who lasts the longest is the winner.

Mechanics: Players travel 30 feet (6 squares) to the top of a boulder. Remaining players make sequential Bull Rush attacks to knock the root off. The first person to withstand 3 Bull Rush attacks is the victor. Players who use Aid Another action are frowned upon, as are players who outright attack instead of using the Bull Rush action.

Bull Rush action:

Strength Attack: Make a Strength attack vs. Fortitude defense. Do not add any modifiers for the weapon you use.
Hit: Push the target 1 square, and shift into the vacated space.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk briefly hesitates as the game begins, allowing one of the other goliaths to gain the top, then with a burst of speed charges the one on tip.

Charge (+2 to speed when charging, maybe beats all but the first one?) and bull rush:
Attack: [roll0] vs Fort (includes +1 for charge)
If successful: Action Point - Total Defense action, +2 to all defenses.

Edit: If Throk is first to boulder, then doesn't need to spend action point, just uses his standard action to go Total Defense.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia enjoys the praise by the goliaths for a few moments, smiling broadly and waving. She returns her hardest competitor's embrace saying, "You did well. I had to work hard to overcome your skill," she replies to the woman, speaking as slowly and clearly as possible and realizing that there was still a real possibility the woman wouldn't understand her. Damaia allows herself to be hoisted up and paraded around on the way over to the next event. As they reached the boulder, she was set down. Now that the adrenaline had started to pass her ankle was beginning to ache something pretty fierce. She'd pushed through it in the competition, but it definitely needed some attention.

As soon as the attention was no-longer focused on her, Damaia half-walked/half-hobbled over to a tree nearby that she leaned up against. She pulled her injured foot and was gently prodding at it to see how bad the damage might be by the time Roman found her. She looks up to the bandages he carried. "Thanks, you read my mind. I didn't feel most of it until it was all over, but that hurt... a lot. Guess I know now that jumping off a 30 foot tall pillar is not a good idea. Let alone doing it twice. All in all I'm doing better than one might expect though." She takes the bandage and quickly wraps her ankles. The right one didn't hurt nearly as much as the left, but it was better not to take chances. Once finished she slowly begins making her way toward the boulder. "Don't want to miss Throk's big moment."


Using my other inspiring word to regain [roll0]. Then I'll try to take a short rest to regain them as I'm watching others compete.

[Meltheim]

Throk - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

Throk moves quickly to take up a position, but sees that there may be some strategy in letting the other goliath get to the top first. Just as his competitor plants his feet, Throk tackles him off the top. This time, however, Throk is able to secure footing while the three Goliaths flounder about below. They nod to him, acknowledging his strategy, then spread out until they are evenly spaced around the boulder.

The first comes at him, bellowing loudly and lowering his head in a charge.

Goliath 1: [roll0] vs 24 Fortitude

MISS!

Throk is ready for him, however, and twists his hips in just the right way, throwing the larger man over and off to the other side.

[Meltheim]

Throk - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

The crowd collectively shouts "AUK!" as the first of the goliath's falls to the side. He picks himself up of the ground and dusts himself off, while the other two eye each other. Nodding, the second Goliath flexes his arms and charges. His approach is a little slower, until he accelerates with a burst of speed right at the end.

Goliath 2: [roll0] vs 24 Fortitude

MISS!

I'll let you narrate your response to this one before rolling up the last attempt.

[Shular]

Throk

The second attacker manages to get his hands on Throk, but fails to push him off, falling instead off the side of the rock.

Throk grins at the failure of the larger men to dislodge him. With a roar he calls out "you'll have to do better than that!"

Maintain total defense. Would use intimidate to cause the next attack to be hesitant (perhaps with a penalty), but I suspect that would be a standard action (plus would make the target hostile).

[Meltheim]

Throk - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

The crowd cheers out "BIN" as the second goliath falls. They start stomping their feet, creating a rumbling that Throk feels all the way up his legs. With a steady resolve, the final Goliath approaches. He lowers his shoulders, sets his feet in a determined stance and is about to charge when Throk bellows his challenge. The goliath falters and loses a little speed off the start, throwing off his technique.

Goliath 3: [roll0] vs 24 Fortitude (with -2 penalty for intimidation).

He vaults up the boulder and gets his hands on Throk.

MISS! Throk is the victor - RP it out my good man! The -2 for intimidation was just enough!

[Shular]

Throk

As the final goliath lays his hands on him, Throk bares his fangs and snarls ferociously in the man's face. Caught off guard, the goliath's grip loosens and Throk is able to push him back off the rock.

The crowd cheers as Throk raises his hand in victory, but he notices a glare from the last goliath, and wonders if he's just made an enemy.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Proving Grounds]

"DRAI!" The crowd chants as Throk resists the third and final assault. The cheers erupt and the ground roars and stomps and celebration seem to cause the boulder itself to vibrate with excitement. Throk is helped down to his feet for a moment, before Keokuk raises his arm and cries, "Throk Stonefooted, the Victor!" The crowd swells again and Throk is lifted above all others and carried out of the area.

As he is set down, the last of the goliath competitors walks over to him and extends his arm, offering to shake hands. "Leokan Swiftriver. Good match. Strong legs. Deep roots." he says, complimenting Throk's skill. "Bend, like willow. Crush, like avalanche. Good match."

Keokuk's voice once again shouts through the noice, reminding everyone to break for lunch. The afternoon's event is wrestling, while the evening's event is Drink-and-Tell. The crowd disperses to the large tables, once again, for feasting and revelry.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

The competition and festivities have done their part to give everyone an appetite. Soon, meats are roasting on spits and ale is being poured from cask to cup and horn. Platters of food are passed around. The party observes several of the would-be storytellers eating large hunks of a doughy, bready substance, and Keokuk suggests to Roman and Hallowhiem that they might want some, "to help soak up the drink, if need be." Others, are taking the opposite approach, however, and have already gotten deep into their cups, hoping perhaps that the effects of inebriation won't be as apparent during the competition if they are already quite soused.

Once the sun dips low and night falls, the plates are cleared away and the fires are kindled. A large bonfire sits at the center of the Proving Grounds, around which are several logs, split in half to create benches of sorts. 4 Goliaths make their way over, two who had been eating the starchy foods and two who stumbled more than walked. Keokuk indicates two open seats for Hallowhiem and Roman. "Please, sit" While most of the Goliaths head to their tents, twenty or so adults stay behind to watch. Once the competitors make themselves comfortable around the fire, Keokuk takes his place on the log, next to Vimak. The leader has his own drinking horn with him and is nursing some foul-smelling brew. "I no compete, but stories make heart feel good." he says, the alcohol somewhat slurring his already muddied speech.

There was a primal feeling to the night. The stars were bright and the sky stretched, an infinite blanket of darkness covering the world. The air had chilled and was crisp, almost tangible. "The spirits are listening too, it seems." Keokuk suggests.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia eats her fill at dinner, having worked up a hearty appetite earlier in the day. As she enjoyed her drink, she showed off one of her own people's favorite drinking games for celebrations. She began lighting her alcohol on fire before quickly downing it. She even helped a few of the goliaths to try their drinks in this festive way before she noticed that a few of them had burned their mouths. She drank enough to put herself into a gentle relaxation before the night's festivities. She didn't want to drink too much, since from what she understood several of the goliaths as well as Roman and Hal would be getting completely trashed, so she wanted to make sure she kept her senses about her in case their was any unexpected trouble.

As Hal and Roman head off to their logs, Damaia claps each of them on the shoulder saying, "Good luck boys. Remember you've got an edge here. Being from the other continent, you've probably got stories nobody around here will have a clue about. They should give you plenty of fodder to talk about, if you can avoid getting so sloshed that you can't talk at all." She gives them one more smile and wink before retreating into the spectator seating.

[Dimers]

Roman

"Ahh, Damaia, the drunkenness -- if it happens -- will be well worth the learning! That said, I've gotten myself back in my Dormitory Daze mode now, and I know a trick or two for holding my drink. It's amazing what even an untrained mind can do, and what poisons a body can handle ..."

Roman's voice drops to a eerie and guttural chuckle and he looks around at some of his competitors over the edge of his borrowed goblet of stone. Then he murmurs an arcane word and the liquor in the cup erupts in a dark flame, with a dry shock that ripples through the air and tightens each heart it passes. The umber flame lets off clouds of oily smoke as Roman drinks to the dregs, momentarily the center of attention. He finishes the cup and, taking a very deep breath, draws the smog into his lungs. "What poisons a body can handle -- there's a story to that, my friends."

He winks and sits down.

Psyching out the competition sounds like a good idea. Howzabout an Arcana check to sub for Intimidate, using the spook cantrip? [roll0]

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Walks over to his fey friend, blowing away some of the smoke from his cup, he sits beside the Eladrin Mage. "There is truth in that. I can't even begin to tell how many times I saw mighty warriors fall to my grandfather's wine. Traveling from nation to nation, I saw so many different peoples go under the table trying to compete with my grandfather."

Diplomacy [roll0]
Heal [roll1]

[Meltheim]

Roman and Hallowhiem - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

The goliaths nod and listen, each hanging on the words of the newcomers. At first, Keokuk provides his services as a translator between the members of the group. However, after everyone has had a pull or two from the wineskin, the general language or storytelling and the magical atmosphere of the campfire seems to have settled in - although exact words may not be understood, gestures, tone and facial expressions convey meaning more strongly than anything else.

After the first round, one of the goliaths falls over - exhausted from having competed in the wrestling matches earlier in the day. The group laughs as he barely makes it three words before his eyes roll awkwardly in his skull and he tips backwards.

Handing the wineskin back to Roman, the two remaining goliaths look on eagerly, hoping to hear more about the fascinating world from which the Eladrin has come.

[Dimers]

Roman

When his turn comes around, Roman stands to take another mighty swig from the goliath skin. With a voice alternating between commanding and so quiet the listeners must lean in, he launches into a tale of skullduggery, grand deeds, and relationships of passion and hate. An Andurii listener might recognize the tale as an adaptation of a deific legend, particularly when Roman rolls through a quote from a famous play in which that legend serves as the background. Poison is a central artifact in the tale he speaks.

Endurance: [roll0]
Diplomacy, with a +2 for the intimidate check before: [roll1]

The mild slur in his voice by the end in no way diminishes the sparkle in his eyes or his aptitude for getting the crowd to feel what his characters are feeling. As he passes the skin to the next giant, several listeners pound the earth in applause.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Taking a long draw from the wineskin, the goliath smiles broadly and lets out a low rumbling belch. The others actually feel their seats rumble for a moment. Then the rumbling continues, and the goliath turns his head, shrugging toward Keokuk. "It seems the spirits have more in store for us tonight than we though." the man muses to himself. "We might need to call it early tonight, it appears as if our namesake is stirring." He says the last as he points up toward the peak of the mountain.

Dirt, boulders and even a few small trees shudder and fall from higher up the mountain. It appears almost as if the peak itself was moving, almost as if it were alive.

The chief frowns at this and looks to Keokuk, asking several questions in his native tongue. Throk is able to quickly provide the translation - letting the group know that the chief is asking about Lo-Kag, and whether has returned or if he is still in the mountain. Keokuk shrugs, then turns to the group. "You all up for a rescue mission?"

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Slightly drunk but never stupid, Roman quickly understands that the mountain's shaking is not simply another game happening upslope. He listens to Vimak and Keokuk, then to Throk's translation.

Sucking first on his lower lip, then on the upper, Roman speaks with a mix of apprehension and bravery. "The earth moving under my feet is frightening enough. But we would go within the peak where the earth would move over my head too? The prospect gives me no joy. All I could do in a cave-in is pray. But Lo-Kag has been a true friend, and I would not put a friend in danger to avoid my own fears."

"Passi taught me to embrace what life brings. I will go."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia puts her hands on her knees and forces herself into a standing position. Her legs were still protesting to their violent treatment earlier in the day, but they would have to work well enough. "Sure, I'll go. If someone's in danger, I'll do what I can to help."

[Shular]

Throk

Throk nods his head and stands up. "We are ready," he says in giant. "Better to be the story than to listen to one, yeah?"

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Keokuk smirks at Throk's words and nods his head. Vimak, ever the chieftan, shouts orders and two of his men accompany the party. One takes point while the other stays near the rear.

The group is lead out of the village proper and toward a narrow, winding path, that appears to lead upward toward one of the mountain peaks. Specifically, toward the peak Keokuk had gestured two earlier when he implied the mountain may be alive.

At the base of the peak is a smooth, flat area on the face of the mountain. The two Goliaths stand guard while Keokuk approaches, laying his hand on the stone. "You said you spent time with the gnomes below, correct? This shouldn't seem too shocking then." As he speaks, his hand appears to meld into the stone itself. He speaks in low tones, reminding ROMAN much of the ritual work he was so fond of studying. "This is a trick of the Skywatchers - Lo-Kag taught me once. We are, essentially, asking the mountain's permission to enter." There is a slight rumble and the sound of stone on stone, and suddenly the way is open.

Keokuk looks at the party for a moment, frowning. "It's dark in here, though there is some light from mosses and fungi. Enough for me to see by, but ..." he nods as he looks at the group members. "It might be dark for some of you. I recommend preparing a torch or something. Who knows what we will find inside." The party can see into the antechamber - a small room, about 30' on a side, with a slope heading upward into the mountain and into darkness.

There is a small pool immediately to the left, which Keokuk uses to wash his hands, feet and face. The other two goliaths perform their ablutions as well, moving in a deliberate, almost reverent way.

Please give me a marching order and let me know your plans for letting those without low-light vision see clearly.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia passes a hand over herself, muttering a few words as she does so. Tiny flames dance up and down her limbs, shedding a dim light out about 25 feet in all directions. "That's enough for me to see by," she says "Especially when you combine it with the flora of the mountain. Though I can probably carry a sunrod in my shield arm since I only carry a light shield." She grabs one of the sunrods from her bag and holds it up. She gives it a moment for anyone with a better solution to speak up, but if no one does she will strike it against a wall to activate it.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - antechamber to the mountain]

Ritually washing his hands in the cold water of the pool, Roman looks back over his shoulder. "Certainly, do! A brilliant idea, if you'll pardon the pun. The light I can make magically is much less intense and much briefer. A truly potent light made of pure magic tends -- over a long period -- to harm the air and create a bad smell. My studies in evocation didn't delve deep enough to learn why, exactly."

He returns his attention to the pool, focusing more than normally necessary for washing.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Range - antechamber to the mountain]

As soon as Roman finishes washing himself, Hallowhiem undergoes the ritual himself. While presenting all the airs of respect that is expected, those that know him can tell the diplomat is rushing compared to his normal contemplative self. Strapping his heavy shield back onto his arm, he nods to his Teifling ally, and readies himself for whatever comes into his field of view. <My grandfather could see without a problem here, but no, I need to rely on a sunrod. I get exiled from the country I'm sent to be a diplomat for, while my allies at home and abroad fall to all manners of evil, and here I am, walking into another cave.>

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

Keokuk nodded at the group as they prepared themselves. "From what I know of your people, the spirit world is relatively unknown in your land. Here, they are strong. Here" he said, pointing deeper into the mountain, "they are strongest. Lo-Kag would often come here, as the Skywatchers did before him, to commune with the spirits. He sensed something was wrong with the mountain, which is why he originally journeyed deeper, to the base. He told us that you encountered some strange things in the gnome tunnels below."

Keokuk gestured to the two other Goliaths who appeared to be taking up a guard formation at the perimeter of the group. The party moved up the slope into the main cavern area, Damaia's light revealing a room with three tunnels leading in different directions. Keokuk closed his eyes briefly as if focusing or listening for something. He opened his eyes, speaking softly, "I wonder what Lo-Kag encountered in the tunnels above."

As he spoke, the mountain shook. Dust and small stones tumbled down from the darkness above, and it is at that moment that the group really noticed how large the chamber was.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

Keokuk marveled briefly at the magical light cast by the party, sucking his teeth in amazement. Just then there is another rumbling, but this time from the floor. "Wolfdancer, Falling Rocks, why don't you to keep the way open here, just in case there is a cave in. The rest of us can move on." The two goliaths nod as they walk back toward the entrance. Keokuk looks to the party, "So, should we split up or take these rooms one at a time?"

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia glances down the dark passages. "I think it is best to stick together. Who knows what might be lurking down any of these paths. Even if there is nothing here, caves can hold their own dangers. I've heard many stories about miners lost down my family's mines. I'm sure many of them were just to scare the children away from the mine, but not all of them were. Deep dark places like this require our respect, lest they swallow us up."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

"Agreed. Well then, if there is nothing else," Keokuk begins, before one of the guards shouts something out. A figure appears in the doorway, taller than either of the two guards. "I see, too busy for the games but you can't stay away when there's fighting to be done?"

Keokuk walks toward the newcomer, laughing as he clasps the man on the arm. "Thundercharger himself come to grace us with his presence."

[Dakaran]

"Ha, Keokuk, you know me too well!" the enormous goliath says with a booming laugh, then releases Keokuk's arm. The newcome goliath stands even taller than Keokuk and the light seems to reflect strongly off his electric blue eyes. "Also, you know best mushrooms for rock stew are within mountain. I couldn't pass up the octopus... er, no... opportunity." The goliath speaks with a booming, slightly accented voice in broken colonial common, catching his misspoken word. He tries to portray a light-heartedness, though even through the broken words everyone can pick out the concern in his tone of voice. Turning to the exotic colonists, he says "As bonus, I get to greet and capitulate... no, congratulate the bold and victorious downlander guests! I am Auklan Thundercharger! It is a good thing to meet you! When I heard of your great competings it made me wish to meet you all the more. I only wish we had chance to meet on goat-ball field. My team is defending champions, you know! Ha!" Auklan smiles a massive toothy grin and claps his hands together. The sound of his clap reverberates within the cavern and the gravity of the situation returns to Auklan as he looks around. Turning his attention back to the group he says, "Something not right here and I wish to help. Is there plan?"

Yay! I'm pumped to be able to jump in! Hopefully I'm understanding correctly that the colonists have a common language that isn't "common" on this continent. Auklan's rather nomadic and has purposefully sought out interactions with the colonists and has tried to pick up their language as best he can, though he's not perfect. If anyone is interested in Auklan's character sheet, you can take a gander here (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=573786). For a visual, here's an image I drew of Auklan:
http://www.iheartprintandplay.com/wp-content/uploads/Auklan-Thundercharger.png

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia is a small but muscular woman. She has long auburn hair that is tied back between her large curling ram-like horns in practical pony tail. She has a spark of intelligence in her emerald green eyes and an impish smile. Damaia wears thick padded leather armor that is exceptionally well-made. She has a small metal buckler strapped to one forearm and the hand carries a sunrod for the others to see by. A rapier dangles from her side. She moves with the practiced steps of a well-trained fencer as her tail dances behind her in counterbalance to her movements. It may be difficult to notice at first because of the bright light provided by the sunrod, but small wisps of flame dance along her limbs. Not enough to cause any real damage, but enough that it would provide a dim glow.

Damaia nods to Auklan. "Good to meet you, I'm Damaia and these are Roman, Throk, Hallowhiem, and Jirus," she says gesturing to her companions. "I don't know much about a plan. I figure your people know these caves better than we will, so I had planned to just follow Keokuk's lead."

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

"I am pleased to meet you, but don't think you can evade that game of goatball so easily, my friend! We will play later." With a warm smile, Roman continues, "We don't know yet what is wrong, so the plan is half as broad as the sky. We search for Lo-Kag and we search for anything out of place ... anything which is not its own normal. We stay together, and we listen for what the spirits might say. Keokuk, do you know which way leads to the depths in a fashion Lo-Kag would choose? He is very patient, so it may not be the most direct ..."

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

"True, true. You definitely must have spent time with our Lo-Kag." Keokuk offers, before turning to Auklan. "Lo-Kag came in here for a moment of reflection, but he's now been in here for a full day. You know that he is prone to solitude, but this seems like something more. The group here met him meditating at the center of the mountain down in Traps, among your curious friends the Gnomes." The mountain shook again, this time slightly more violently than before. Speaking to the group again, Keokuk continues,"I suggest we check each of these side areas quickly, but then make our way toward the sky pool. It could be that he is making a connection between the base and the peak."

Keokuk gestures to the north and south exits when discussing the side rooms, then takes steps northward.

The room to the north is much larger than the antechamber, spanning a full 50' across and nearly 20' deep. The ceiling here is lower, perhaps 15 feet in some areas with several stalactites across its surface. There is a faint glow from some mushrooms in one corner and a narrow passageway out to the west.

Scanning the area, Keokuk then crosses back across the room to peer south, looking for signs of the Chief's son.

The room to the south is squared off and has several rounded boulders in it, varying from 2' to 3' diameter. There are two exits from this room, to the west and south.

"So, north or south? Flip for it?" Keokuk pulls a heavy bronze disc from a pouch at his hip. It is scored on one side and smooth on the other. Tapping the scored side, he says "North" and then taps the smooth side, saying "South".

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

"Aha! May I make use of that divinatory tool?" Roman approaches the goliath leader and reaches up to take the metal plate ... it seems much larger in his smooth and fine-boned hand than between two fingertips of the stone-skinned giant. He closes his eyes and rolls through a fast, repetitive chant invoking the wisdom of Sehanine. "Bandia ciallmhar, éisteacht seo urnaí agus pointe ar shiúl ó chinntí dona, bandia ciallmhar, éisteacht seo urnaí agus pointe ar shiúl ó chinntí dona, bandia ciallmhar, éisteacht seo urnaí agus pointe ar shiúl ó chinntí dona ..."

The wizard pulls from his fine Oahmu clothing a pendant of Andurii manufacture, a flat holy symbol of the goddess. The wooden ornament develops a glow, a glow which focuses into a pointing beam as Roman asks three questions:

"Which path should we take to find Lo-Kag quickly?"

"Which path should we take to soothe troubled spirits?"

"Which path holds truths we should know?"

[Shular]

Throk

Throk nods at the newcomer, Auklan, then listens as the others dither about which way to go. "Good grief," he growls, "grow a pair and make a decision! Watch, it's easy." And with that he steps south towards the opening closest to him.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Rockhide Mountain]

Keokuk chuckles at the Eladrin's questions, "If we do meet up with Lo-Kag, you should ask him about divining," he says, as three beams of light shoot out from the bronze disc in three different directions, "He'll give you some tips about asking one question at a time."

Seeing Throk head off, Keokuk nods, pointing. "This one has the right of it!"

[Dakaran]

"There are many facets to mountains, my speedy comparrot. They are mighty and vast. Keokuk and I can likely offer some insight, but little more. Though Keokuk usually keep good sense. I trust his gut further than I can throw. Which is quite grand distance, I think." Auklan flashes Damaia a smile at that last little joke, hoping to get a smile at the least.

Turning his attention as Roman speaks, Auklan quickly retorts, "HA! Roman, I will hold you to this thing. A great game of goat-ball awaits us I think!" The mighty goliath continues to speak in his broken common and smiles again at the thought of returning to the goat-ball field. He looks on with wonderous interest as Roman summons light. "Mountains' mercy!" he says in amazement, though his attention is suddenly stolen as he notices Throk suddenly moves toward the southern room.

"Throk, you constore much boldness! I think this thing, we will be good friends, yes?! Let me join you." Auklan moves to walk beside the half-orc, not wanting to be outdone by a downlander. As they enter the southern chamber, he hefts his maul up onto his shoulder, holding its handle with one hand for now. He scans the room and approaches the nearest rounded boulder, noting that he believes the boulder's shape to potentially not be completely natural. He leans down in an attempt to better see and example the rock.

Just FYI, Auklan believes the word "compatriot" is pronounced "comparrot". "Constore" is "contain". Also, dungeoneering check on the boulder: [roll0]

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

As Auskan bends down to inspect the boulder, he hears a bizarre sound - stone moving on stone. The sound persists, getting louder, before two darkened areas appear on the stone. Dust falls and bits of stone from the side and the bottom appear to form, until something like a small, squat man appears to be standing there. The sound continues again. Then again. Then a crude mouth forms in the stone and the creature says "Can I help you?"

Imagine a Graveler from pokemon, but with only 2 arms.

http://pldh.net/media/dreamworld/075.png

Also, anyone who speaks Primordial would have understood the stone from the beginning.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

Roman, too, passes through the southern arch. As the rock formation reshapes itself and speaks, Roman bows to it in greeting but holds his tongue. Faint familiarity with earth elementals (and the sound of their language) from his Academy days suggest that this creature might take offense at being addressed by an individual not of its choosing.

Without staring, Roman studies the elemental's features and considers its nature.

Arcana creature knowledge check, assuming it is in fact of Elemental origin: [roll0]

[Dakaran]

Auklan Thundercharger - Goliath Barbarian

"Ah! Well met!" Auklan says to the stony creature. Seeing Roman bow beside him towards the creature, he adds to the Eladrin, "This thing is good luck to meet a guardian of the mountain!" Thinking for a moment he adds with a broad smile, "Well, at least when you are in company of respectful goliath, no? Ha!" Returning his attention to the guardian Auklan says "It is honor for us if you offer your help, guardian. Can you tell us anything of the quakes that we feel?"

Hopefully I played that off right with the assumed "relationship" between the galeb duhr and goliaths. Let me know if I'm off-base from a background standpoint of understanding how goliaths would typically interact with galeb duhr.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

"Gold to the north. Silver to the south. Pool to the center." The words seem unnatural, as if they were being spoken more out of practice than out of comprehension and understanding.

At Auklan's questioning, the creature's visage remains stoic, yet somehow contorts to show concern or frustration, as it tries to communicate original thoughts and ideas. There is a grating, scraping sound of stone on stone again. "Rockhide sick. Stone and smoke." It makes the grating sound again, speaking in its primordial dialect, then continues. "Gate breaking. Shards corrupt." The creature pauses again before saying, "Rockhide bleeding. Rockhide dying."

Does anyone actually speak primordial?

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia listens closely to the rock's explanation, running in and out of the common tongue and the creature's natural speech. It was heavily accented from what she had learned, but she was certain she could understand it. In her training in fire magics, she had learned a touch of the language of the elementals. She was used to hearing it through the sounds of roaring flames instead of grinding stones, but as he continued to wander back and forth between the languages, she convinced herself that it was the same.

She stepped forward. "Maybe I can help communicate. I don't know if working across the accent will be any easier, but it might be." She addresses the boulder in a foreign speech that involves forcing the air through her vocal chords in a rushing woosh. The flames dancing along her skin seem to accompany her words. <Primordial>"Does speaking this way help you? I'm sorry that the Rockhide Range is in trouble. We want to help if we can. What is this gate you spoke of? And the shards?"</Primordial>

Yep, Damaia does. :smallsmile:

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

"Firetouched!" The creature appears excited by Damaia's speech. He commences in a series of creaks and scrapes and grinding noises that set the rest of the group's teeth buzzing. <Primordial>"Rockhide, the Earth Titan, has been hurt. The Living Gate has been damaged and the Shards have been corrupted. Rockhide is bleeding, and his blood is fire. His blood rises up from below."</Primordial> The mountain rumbles again, and a small jet of sulfurous gas appears to shoot out from a fissure in the floor on the other side of the room. The creature immediately trundles over and begins singing a low song. As the song concludes, the stone melds back together, sealing the fissure.

<Primordial> "Rockhide is dying, and when he dies we will die."</Primordial> The creature appears to be slumped over in despair as he walks back to the group. <Primordial>"Skywatcher came to help, but Skywatcher went through the Gate. The Gate is crumbling. We will all die. Flame and stone, we will all die." </Primordial>

As the creature finishes, Damaia recalls stories from long ago about a Gate holding back horrific aberrant creatures from beyond their world. The Gate was made up of living crystalline creatures who formed a link with each other, protecting the world from the alien horrors. These were stories told to remind children to be good and to eat their vegetables and go to sleep on time, lest the scary monsters come get them in the night.

However, based on the stories that the party had told her about their time in Traps, which lay about a mile below where the party currently stood, it suddenly dawns on Damaia that it is possible that the barrier between worlds has become compromised, and that foul things like what they experienced in Paddleston might soon be appearing elsewhere.

Another rumbling in the mountain sends the boulderous creature to the other side to patch another fissure.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia's eyes widen as she listens to the speaking rock. As it rushes off to seal another fissure, Damaia turns to the rest of the party. She brushes a errant strand of hair out of her eyes as she contemplates how to tell the others.

"This is bad. He says that the earth titan Rockhide has been injured badly. He bleeds fire and is dying. The boulder says that when he dies we will all die. He seems absolutely convinced of this, even repeated it a few times. He also said something about the Living Gate crumbling and the Shards being corrupted. I don't know for sure what all that means, but it reminds me of stories my tutors used to tell me when I was a child. Stories so scary that it still sends a shiver down my spine to think about them today. From what I know of your experiences in the Traps and our recent visit to Paddleston, those stories might have more truth to them than I ever imagined. I don't get shaken easily, but this seems really bad. He told me that Skywatcher, that's Lo-Kag, right? Skywatcher went through the crumbling gate." As Damaia speaks her words tumble out faster and faster nearing a panicked pace.

She steps over a few feet to where the rock creature works on a fissure, placing a reassuring hand on its rough "flesh". <Primordial>"I want to help. There has to be something that can be done. Can Rockhide be saved somehow? Can the shards be cleansed or the gate be rebuilt? There has to be something to do. We may die, but I won't do it without a fight."</Primordial>

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

Keokuk, who had been hanging back somewhat, finally speaks up. "The Living Gate is a stone archway - part of a rite of passage for members of our clan. It's not far from here, if we wanted to follow after Lo-Kag. I do not know anything about the Shards though. I have never heard one of the Children of the Mountain speak so freely . . . it is somewhat disturbing."

[Dakaran]

Auklan, like Keokuk, is surprised by the guardian's openness, especially with downlanders present. That surprise initially stood at the forefront of his mind until something else suddenly clicked. "What WHAT?" Auklan says, rounding on Damaia, grabbing her by the shoulders with his massive hands and looking down into her eyes with a look of great concern. "The guardian just say Rockhide is dying? As in not dead? Do I understand your speech rightly?" Not waiting for a response, Auklan talks on at a rapid pace, seemingly thinking aloud. "My people have many story that speak of Rockhide, the legendary titan who warred with the ancient primordials. In those story, legend say Rockhide die, his blood spilling out upon the land, creating the titansblood, or as downlanders may call magma. This thing though, my people know is legend and myth. But if guardian speak of Rockhide alive..." The goliath trails off, his emotions continuing to get the better of him and his mind refusing to allow him to truly focus.

I'll give anyone a chance to respond to to Auklan grabbing Damaia if they like and/or for the guardian to respond to Damaia's questions before I have Auklan add any more. :smallsmile:

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

Standing in the dark, the human paladin squints at the cavern walls. Hand ready to draw his longsword, he watches as the bizarre rock creature speaks in an unfamiliar tongue to Damaia. Talk of a portal, spirits, some manner of corruption. The course was obvious to him, if the direction may not be. "Lo-Kag went through this portal to try and stop your mountain dying. It looks like he needs some help. So let's go help him!

Which way is that?" Tapping his metal platted foot on the stone floor, he adjusted the straps on his heavy shield, fidgeting unnecessarily. While never as zen as others, his normal intentional calm has been damaged, and despite Jirus resting gentled against his leg, the owlbear does not receive the normal head scratching that behavior triggers.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk stands bemused at the conversation. "Plants attack us and people turn into fish. Of COURSE rocks talk."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia places her hands over Auklan's on her own shoulders. "Yes, his accent is not what I am used to, but I'm certain about what he said. He said that Rockhide is dying, not dead. Now the mechanics of dying and death might be a little different with creatures as vast and old as we are talking about, but I just can't be sure of all that. All I can say for now is that I don't think we should lose hope yet. Hal is right. Let's do what we can."

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

"And with all reasonable haste," adds Roman with a worried tone. "We may not have long!" He moves farther along, fiddling with the stopper for a flask at his belt while holding a pair of mismatched magical tools. He seems to be readying himself for the possibility of battle.

If nobody has an OOC objection, let's get this train moving again. Since Hal wanted to take point and Auklan knows the terrain best, how about (from front to back) Hal+Jirus, Auklan, Damaia, Roman, Throk?

Meltheim -- can I drink from the flask of the dragon's breath ahead of time, or does it need to be during an encounter? If during, do I need to draw it with a free hand to use it? Trying to spend fewer actions during crunch time, and also trying to keep both orbs in hand at once. These intentions may be mutually incompatible. :smalltongue:

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

Keokuk says, "Yes. If we're going, let's go." There is another rumble as two fissures open up. The creature trundles over to one and begins mending it again. The other, however, starts bubbling a glowing red liquid - pure magma. It appears as if the mountain may in fact be a dormant volcano that is in the process of waking up.

Keokuk leads the group out of the southern chamber and points ahead, to the east. "The Sky Pool is just through there. Thundercharger knows the way to the Gate. You go on ahead, I will alert the others to let the village know they may need to evacuate quickly."

Auklan's knowledge of the cave lets him guide the party through to the Sky Pool. The pool lies at the center of a large circular room with an impossibly high ceiling. Above the party, they can see the open sky in all its glory, despite the fact that they are still very much underground. In fact, Roman recognizes more than one of the constellations from home - stars that he hasn't seen in several months. It appears as if the ceiling is an illusion or hallucination or some other trick, as it reveals the night sky across the entirety of the known world.

At the far end of the pool is a stone archway, similar to the one the party saw in the caves below the Church of the Gleaming Dawn back in Paddleston. Seven distinct runes are carved on each of the sides and across the top of the archway, written in a script that has faded with age. In each set, the final rune in the series is glowing.

You recognize the script as Primordial, and the words appear to reference days, months and years. You recall something from the previous night's festivities, about the Great Games celebrating the "7th night in the 7th month of the 7th year of the Cycle."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

As the group pauses to look around the room, Damaia points up to the runes over the gateway. "Well now that's interesting. Remember how the feast last night was so special because it was the 7th day of the 7th month of the 7th year in this cycle? Those glowing runes up there appear to be proclaiming the same timing. I'd bet they've been doing a countdown here for awhile."

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Mountain - Southern Chamber]

Walking up beside Damaia, he stares at the runes with clearly less comprehension. Trying to wrack his mind for stories he'd heard traveling all his youth, but something seemed to cloud his mind. <Just dive through, and get it done!> Pushing the thought out of his head, he turned his gaze back to the archway. His green cloak hanging from his shoulders, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to connect this pattern with any story he knew. A series of sevens, that was the key.

Arcana [roll0]
Religion [roll1]
History [roll2]
Also, going to switch my resistances from acid and fire to psychic and necrotic.

[Dakaran]

As the others examine the archway, Auklan lets his eyes run over the coarse of the arch, skimming over each of the runes. His surroundings seem to drift away until all that is left is just him, the archway, and his thoughts; You have beckoned to me before, yet I refused to come. I have felt your pull, but worried I was not ready. Now, at last, it seems you have left me with no choice. I must forge ahead or risk losing far more than my life. I must be ready.... I AM ready. After what seemed like hours to him, but was in reality mere minutes, Auklan, without a word, hefts his large maul off his back and into his hands, then barrels forward as fast as his legs can carry him through the archway.

Not gonna like, I came really close to having Auklan yell his name Leeroy Jenkins style as he ran into that archway. :smallbiggrin:

Just for a little context, as a goliath, Auklan knows that the archway is a tool in which his people prove themselves worthy of being a part of the Rockhides. It's now or never for him and his home is in need of him. Here's hoping I didn't just charge into a trap. :smalleek:

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Mountain - Sky Pool]

The party sees the Goliath take a running leap through the archway. For a brief second, there is a flash of light as he crosses through, then nothing. He is gone.

Auklan - [Living Gate]

As Auklan crosses through the gate, he immediately feels a sense of calm wash over him. He is in an open area with tents nearby. A mountain rises up behind him and the sun shines overhead in a clear blue sky. A light breeze tickles his face and the smell of wildflowers and woodsmoke is in the air. There is a sound of wind whistling through the area and a light tinkling of windchimes in the distance. Not another person is in sight, and the camp feels empty.

[Dakaran]

Auklan - [Living Gate]

Auklan blinks at the unexpected brightness as his eyes adjust and comes to a stop. Raising a hand to shade his eyes he turns around, searching for... he's not sure. He bristles at the calm; the breeze, the scent in the air, the sound of windchimes. It all leaves him with an eerie feeling that he can't quite put a finger on. Holding his maul cautiously in his hands, he begins to walk through the camp, searching for any signs of life.

Duuude! I loved the description of what Auklan just stepped into. I could close my eyes and picture it perfectly. :smallbiggrin:

Quick question - is the camp and mountain his? Or is it completely unknown to him?

Perception check to look for signs of life or anything unusual: [roll0]

[Meltheim]

Auklan - [Living Gate]

The scent of woodsmoke changes to be a bit more harsh, more acrid than before. Just as he becomes aware of this, he sees something in the distance - not a person, but rather the shape of a person. Against the mountain appears to be shadows, in roughly the shape and size of members of the Rockhide clan or other Goliaths.

The shadows appear to be burned into the very rock itself. Upon further inspection, there are shadows all over - what first appeared as dappled sunlight now reveals itself as dozens upon dozens of faint, Goliath-shaped shadows stretching across the visible landscape. Something red begins to trickle from one of the shadows - moving slowly, glowing fiercely. A moment later, dozens of smaller streams erupt from each of the shadows, each rolling across the ground toward each other until the coalesce at the center of the encampment.

The smell is sharp and sulfurous, burning Auklan's nose as it increases in intensity. New smells are added - hair, cloth, meat, bone - each burning in its own fashion.

The reddish liquid rolls together and begins forming upward, getting larger and larger until it resolves into the shape of a Goliath..

"You betrayed your people. You left our clan to walk among strangers and led them back here. They angered the creatures below and hurt Rockhide. You could have warned them, but you were rash and bold, and charged headlong into danger without regard for yourself or your people. See what you have wrought."

The magma creature gestures with a hand-like appendage toward the tent city, which now lies in ruins, scorched and covered with glowing lava. In the back of his mind, Auklan hears the sound of children screaming in horror, the chief shouting orders and people running in fear. He hears their wails as they are consumed by the terrible lava and the deafening silence of his people, now destroyed.

"What say you to this?"

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Rockhide Mountain - Sky Pool]

Drawing his sword and hefting his armor, Hallowhiem stares into the open portal. "Ah hells." he sighs, before rushing in after the goliath.

Ideal: Community. It is the duty of all civilized people to strengthen the bonds of community and the security of civilization. (Lawful)

Bond: I was the ambassador for my King, to bring my people into this new land.

Flaw: I have made deals to have the power I needed, but that power hasn't solved the problems.

[Dakaran]

Auklan - [Living Gate]

Auklan looks around in horror as the tranquil landscape gives way to one of scorch and ruin. As the magma creature speaks, Auklan begins to hear screaming and tries to plug his ears to no avail. The creature's question lays heavily on him. Auklan feels the weight of it, crushing him. Sorrow wells up within him. How could this happen? he thinks to himself. How could *I* let this happen... Sorrow begins to give way to anger and Auklan starts talking aloud, growing louder as he speaks in his native tongue. "How could I have known that consorting with downlanders would do this?! How could I have allowed these... these downlanders do this to us?! We welcomed them with open arms. We let them compete with us in our celebration!" He looks about as his anger begins to burn into rage. Auklan's eyes search for something that he can unleash his rage against, but finds nothing. In frustration he raises his maul high up into the air and with all his might, brings it crashing down into the rocky ground, creating a loud boom and sending a wide burst of spider-web cracks outward from the impact site. Auklan spares a glance for the web of cracks and his rage cools a bit as the memory of competing to create the greatest impact crater amongst friends springs to mind. He remembers the competition with warmth and was particularly impressed by an elf that he had convinced to compete as well. That elf had competed well and with honor and refused to be intimidated by the size of the other competitors. Then another thought sparks in Auklan's mind and he begins speaking to the magma creature. "How *could*" these downlanders have caused this?! The downlanders that I have encountered have brought nothing but honor to our people. They take part in our ceremonies! They even *win* some of our games! Is that not what Rockhide favors!? Honor. Bravery. Strength. These are what makes one a member of the Rockhide. Not blood!"

[Meltheim]

Damaia, Roman, Throk - [Rockhide Mountain - Sky Pool]

Hallowhiem dives through the portal and disappears in a flash. Jirus attempts to follow but fades away into sparkles and nothingness. The portal is once again still and silent. The mountain shakes again.

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]

Crossing through the gate felt oddly familiar, similar to the times that Hallowhiem had stepped through the feywild. The area around him is bleak, at first, then slowly shapes and lights come into focus. Candles flicker and tables appear. Petrichor and hearth fire and roasted meat tickle at his nose and the clinking of glasses is heard in the background. Though he appears to be in a tavern and can hear a din of patrons, he appears to be alone.

At the far side of the room is a table, upon which is a game board with small figurines. Next to it is a table with a deck of cards. Nearby is another table with dice and cups.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk looks at the others remaining and shrugs. He readies his chain, then steps through the portal.

Ideal: Freedom - This is a tough one. Throk hates the idea of slavery or being forced to serve another against one's will. People should be free to live how they choose.

Bond: Throk simply wants to understand his role in the world. Where does he "fit in", and what direction is he going.

Flaw: Throk's temper has more than once gotten him in trouble. He is prone to impatience, and tends to use intimidation to resolve social interactions.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]

Taking in the smell of familar food and wet earth, Hallowhiem moves through the empty tavern. Games, he had always loved games. Though his skill may be at question, he always enjoyed the theories behind them. Chance, strategy, reading other players, knowledge of rule loopholes. And he had very little right now of any of those. Cup and dice, that's pure chance. Cards, far too many variables in possible rules for an identical deck. But a gridded space with miniature figures, that was his best bet. Moving swiftly, he stands before the board, and considers the pieces before him.

[Meltheim]

Auklan - [Living Gate]

"Blood, yes" the magma creature says, as the molten substance pools around it, adding to its already impressive bulk. "Rockhide bleeds for you, because of your friends. The downlanders of yellow and green. They cut deeply and let the shadow creatures in." The molten being is now twice the size of Auklan, "They hurt the children of the mountain and the little things, the ones you adore so."

The molten creature, now well over 20 feet tall and half-again as wide, regards Auklan's statements with curiosity, if one could see such an expression on a face of fire and stone. "Honor, bravery, strength. These are good things. These downlanders of yellow and green, they do not have these things. Are those your downlanders?" The creature begins to contort and twists itself into the shape of an elf, with the distinctive topknot of one of the Emerald Enclave. "They took the silver from Rockhide. They made a terrible beast who dug it out from Rockhide's belly and took it for themselves. Without the silver, this is your future." The magma giant points back to the destroyed village, the Rockhide clan's home.

"Come with me, we can destroy them together!" the giant says, its voice now excited. Behind the giant, in the ruin of the mountain, appears a small stone archway. It flashes brilliantly, pulsing with light. Stepping in front of him to block his view, the giant presses on, "Charge into battle with me, brave warrior. Let us hunt the elves and bring death upon them!" The archway pulses again, then starts to dim, fading from view.

Auklan hears a voice in the back of his head, a dim memory from his youth, "The Living Gate is a test. It shows you what you need to see, and offers you a choice. You can lose yourself in the Gate if you are not careful. The way out will appear but once."

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Living Gate]

The smell of money and ink was as pleasing to her nose as freshly baked bread. The rustle of papers brought Damaia's attention back to the matter at hand - the latest exports of iron to the villages up the coast. The ledger book was neat and tidy, with clean margins and flowing script. Damaia had been taught well by her father, and she knew how to make him happy. "Following in his footsteps, just like he always wanted." a woman's voice came from over her shoulder. A tiefling, her horns curling tightly like a ram's, like Damaia's, she wore a silk blouse and a long skirt that made a swishing sound as she walked behind Damaia. Damaia herself was in a fine gown, though a little restrictive across the legs, forcing her to take small steps instead of long strides.

"He'd be so happy to see what you've done with the business. Making treaties and extending credit. Putting away that silly sword and picking up the pen. They say the pen is mightier, after all." The woman was older than Damaia, of an age with the previous generation, and she gazes at her with kind, elderly eyes. "To make allies out of the horrible creatures who killed him, all in the name of peace and profits. Yes, he would have liked that."

Throk - [Living Gate]

"Come to order!" a voice rang out just to Throk's right. A half-orc in fine leathers grinned in Throk's direction as the crowd settled down. "Council Member Throk, our proposal from last meeting is still on the table. Might I remind everyone that we already increased collection fees by 5% since last quarter. Profit margins are high, and we are more efficient than ever." The crowd gave a mild cheer as the man continued on. "Those of us on the Council recognize your position and your experience, and we will follow your lead. However, commitments such as these seem too dire for even the most skilled cutpurse."

The murmuring drew Throk's gaze to the large guild hall, where dozens of people, of all ages, shapes, sizes and colors (though mostly dirty and disheveled) sat, listening. To Throk's left were three others, clad in as fine a set of clothing as the man to his right. Throk's own clothes appeared to be tailored to him perfectly, in a dazzling array of leather slashed with silks where appropriate. "So," the man continued, "What is your recommendation?"

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]

Just as he mentally makes his choice, the other tables appear to fade into the background. The pieces on the game board resolve themselves more fully, and he finds himself seated, without ever making the conscious effort to do so.

The air in the room crackles with vibrance, each smell and taste and sight completely saturated. Even the table is too worn, too rough, too smooth, too . . . whatever.

"So the would-be feywarden prefers games of strategy, it seems." A voice catches Hallowhiem's attention as a beautiful woman slides into the chair opposite him. "Very interesting - you clearly see yourself as a master tactician and strategist. I wonder, do you play aggressively out of the gate or do you hold back, waiting for a weakness before you pounce?" The woman is beautiful, painfully so. She is familiar to Hallowhiem. Though he has difficulty placing her face, the effect of her presence is clearly one he recognizes. He is in the company of one of the Archfey.

Specifically, she is his patron, The Lady of the White Well.

[Meltheim]

Roman - [Living Gate]

Swirling in a black void, Roman found himself in a strange, alien environment. There was no sky or floor or anything around him, except for the strange crystalline creatures. They were working, at what he could not tell, and every once in a while one would turn to look at him before continuing on at their labor. Roman suspected they were curious or confused, or possibly suspicious of him, though it was difficult to tell with their nondescript faces. There were dozens of them, each around 6' tall, formed of hundreds of minute, faceted gems. Their very bodies seemed to be suspended in the void, not actually touching but not floating independently either. Roman could feel it, the energy he was just now starting to understand - psychic power. Somehow, these creatures were able to will themselves to stay composed in a specific shape - some even appeared to be able to dissolve into a jumble of crystals and then reform several paces away. A puzzle that could put itself together, in a sense.

Do you understand? The voice sounded in his head, with a slight ringing/buzzing sound. I ask you again, do you understand how to complete the task? There was no one creature in particular engaging with him, and nothing he could see had lips that were moving (or lips at all, for what its worth).

Feyling, you claim to See, you appear to be able to Touch. Do you Understand? A whirling mass of crystals appeared before Roman. The beautiful, alien creature regarded him for a moment, tilting its head to the side and looking Roman up and down. Now that one was close to him, Roman could see that the crystals were jagged in some places, cracked in others. They were more like shards of a larger piece, broken off and reformed into something else. We rebuild the Lattice. You claim to know how, that you have Seen and Touched and Understand. Show us how.

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Living Gate]

Damaia put her quill into the ink well and stretched her fingers. They ached with the effort of a lengthy writing task. She took a slow deep breath, and began to straighten the papers laid out before her before she allowed her mother's words to sink in. As soon as they did, she was shocked out of the calm routine task and questions began to pour out of her lips uncontrollably. "What did you say? Father is dead? When? The creatures who killed him? Who was that?" Damaia wasn't a woman prone to panic, but she felt her breath beginning to catch in her chest. She tried to turn in her chair, but the tight skirt frustrated her movements. Instead she stood up, the heavy wooden chair tumbled to the ground behind her.

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Living Gate]



Damaia put her quill into the ink well and stretched her fingers. They ached with the effort of a lengthy writing task. She took a slow deep breath, and began to straighten the papers laid out before her before she allowed her mother's words to sink in. As soon as they did, she was shocked out of the calm routine task and questions began to pour out of her lips uncontrollably. "What did you say? Father is dead? When? The creatures who killed him? Who was that?" Damaia wasn't a woman prone to panic, but she felt her breath beginning to catch in her chest. She tried to turn in her chair, but the tight skirt frustrated her movements. Instead she stood up, the heavy wooden chair tumbled to the ground behind her.

"Oh sweetie, you remember. Those elves, they wanted our iron stores. Your father fought them off." She makes a tut-tut sound with her mouth as the chair falls and looks at Damaia with concern. "Really dear, it's been years but I can't believe you've forgotten again. Don't you remember, it's what made you give up your silly playing at being an adventurer and come home to take care of us?" The women's heels clicked as they walked down the stone hallway, clean blue light spilling out from sconces in the wall as they headed toward an exit.

Once outside Damaia saw what she recognized as the city she grew up in, though most of the houses had more modern look to them, squared off, severe and spartan. Similar to that of the more militaristic elves of the Emerald Enclave. "I miss him too, but things are much better now. We all have our parts to play, cogs in a wheel and all that. No more silly running around with your friends getting into all sorts of trouble."

In the distance, a doorway flashes brilliantly, catching Damaia's attention. Stepping in front of Damaia, blocking her view, her mother speaks up. "Now dear, shall we go meet with the ladies auxiliary for tea? We must support the men-folk in their fight against those nasty foreigners."

[Shular]

Throk

Throk looks around, blinking in confusion. "Who are you people, and what am I doing here? Where are my friends? What in the hells is going on?!?"

He reaches for his chain, growing both angrier and more afraid when he realizes it's not there.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]

"M'lady." he says with a dip of his head, "the answer to your question depends on many factors, I'm afraid. Whom is my challenger, what is my position, what is at stake? In the past, defense has been my preferred approach. I am a Paladin of Corellon, Oathed to protect and serve your people. But while I've sat and waited and done as I should, those that would stand against justice gather together and grow in power. If I had been more proactive, perhaps I never would have had need to call on your services in the first place. if right hand glows softly with a gentle green radiance, while his left hand crackles with bursts of sharp white light, fractal as they explode between his finger tips. Most people always assume that his arcane skill comes from his worship of a God of Magic, or an extension of his Bardic training. But the truth, the truth is, he was a Warlock.

"So M'Lady, what is your pleasure? Shall you take White, or the Black?"

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Living Gate]

Damaia shakes her head. "No. No, I don't really remember. This all seems off to me. I may have my part to play, but this doesn't feel like it." Damaia steps around her mother, moving to the window to try to catch a glimpse of what might have been going on in that doorway.

"If there's a war going on, then my place is on the front lines. I can do this book-work, but there are many people who could. My skills are wasted sitting her going through ledgers. I can act as a diplomat to talk with our enemies, try to negotiate a peace, and if they won't have peace I can fight. I am better with a blade than most of father's soldiers."

A chill runs down Damaia's spine. "Wait, foreigners? Are you talking about Prince Teren's colony? I spent time there. I have friends there! We can't be fighting them, can we? Who is this enemy?"

[Dakaran]

Auklan hefts his maul, contemplating the beast's proposal. Considering. His blood boils with a desire to fight, and yet... with that voice in his head his mind drifts yet again back to that elf, Morian, who so bravely competed with him and his kin. Must I condemn them all for the actions of some? Auklan thought to himself. The weight of Auklan's maul seemed to increase, drawing his attention back to it. He eyes dark to the end of his devastating weapon. Dried blood still stuck to it in many places. Much of that blood came from foul and vile creatures. Yet some of it did not. Auklan was not always in control of himself when the bloodlust took him. He knows that he can loose himself in battle. That voice in the back of his head comes again, "The Living Gate is a test. It shows you what you need to see, and offers you a choice. You can lose yourself in the Gate if you are not careful. The way out will appear but once." "I must not loose myself," Auklan says aloud, shaking his head. "Not to bloodlust. If there is a great beast that digs at Rockhide's belly, that I will fight. That I will kill. But I will not run headlong into a battle in which I know not who is friend and who is foe. Not again."

Sorry for the delay, Meltheim. It took me a while to decide how to proceed. From an RP perspective, I really considered sending Auklan into battle with the magma beast. I'm really enjoying this challenge! It's making me think a lot more than I usually do for D&D. :smallbiggrin:

[Dimers]

Roman - [Living Gate]


Swirling in a black void, Roman found himself in a strange, alien environment. There was no sky or floor or anything around him ...

This is ... not unfamiliar, mused Roman silently. Though I don't remember it.


Do you understand? The voice sounded in his head, with a slight ringing/buzzing sound. I ask you again, do you understand how to complete the task?

Though his neck twitches at the first instance of the so-called sound in his mind, Roman doesn't otherwise react physically -- instead of shaking his head No, he simply stays silent and still, awaiting more communication.


We rebuild the Lattice. You claim to know how, that you have Seen and Touched and Understand. Show us how.

"I ... do not Understand. I intuit, if that's of any use to you," the student of wizardry replies both aloud and mentally. "Right now I intuit that my appearing here rather than in some battle against Wrong creatures is no mistake, and that I need not hurry on past. Show me the Task? I do wish to See and Touch and Understand."

[Meltheim]

Throk - [Living Gate]



Throk looks around, blinking in confusion. "Who are you people, and what am I doing here? Where are my friends? What in the hells is going on?!?"

He reaches for his chain, growing both angrier and more afraid when he realizes it's not there.

"Friends? We're your friends, calm down now." The man to Throk's right continues on, "C'mon now, no need to get riled up."

The man to Throk's left leans over and whispers something to the other, about "the drink" and "flashbacks from the war?" and they both tut-tut a bit. "Rogers," says the one on the left, "Could we just move on. He clearly is addled again." He chuckles a bit and whispers to his companion "Prisoner of his own mind that one, no wonder all his friends are dead. Can't believe they let him on the council in his state."

Rogers, apparently, acknowledges the request, "Yes yes, Councilman Goruvolder, we'll move on." He signals to some men in the back who begin walking toward Throk, each holding a pair of leather cuffs in their hands. "Councilman Throk, we'll check in with you later, yes?" Rogers asks. Just as the two guards get near, ready to restrain Throk, he sees an archway in the distance flash a bright purple.

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]



"M'lady." he says with a dip of his head, "the answer to your question depends on many factors, I'm afraid. Whom is my challenger, what is my position, what is at stake? In the past, defense has been my preferred approach. I am a Paladin of Corellon, Oathed to protect and serve your people. But while I've sat and waited and done as I should, those that would stand against justice gather together and grow in power. If I had been more proactive, perhaps I never would have had need to call on your services in the first place. if right hand glows softly with a gentle green radiance, while his left hand crackles with bursts of sharp white light, fractal as they explode between his finger tips. Most people always assume that his arcane skill comes from his worship of a God of Magic, or an extension of his Bardic training. But the truth, the truth is, he was a Warlock.

"So M'Lady, what is your pleasure? Shall you take White, or the Black?"

"White or Black?" she laughs, the sound something like a thousand glasses breaking or a babbling waterfall. "I am afraid you seem to have forgotten which game we play." she gestures toward the board with a flourish, and Hallowhiem sees that the table is now in the shape of the continent, and the pieces are not set like a chess board, but rather represent the various kingdoms and their armies. To the side are several pieces laying down. Hallowhiem recognizes a few of them - a Shifter barbarian, a Dwarven noble, an Eladrin knight - though there are countless others, elves and humans alike, that appear indistinct and unremarkable.

"I was curious about your play style because you seemed to have no problem sacrificing these pieces here in order to move those pieces near their objective." She points to a cluster of five pieces near a representation of the Rockhide mountains. "In fact, yes, it is my turn now. Hmmm." she says the last thoughtfully, before reaching out to snatch a Goliath-shaped piece off of the mountain and cast it aside. "Your move."

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Living Gate]



Damaia shakes her head. "No. No, I don't really remember. This all seems off to me. I may have my part to play, but this doesn't feel like it." Damaia steps around her mother, moving to the window to try to catch a glimpse of what might have been going on in that doorway.

"If there's a war going on, then my place is on the front lines. I can do this book-work, but there are many people who could. My skills are wasted sitting her going through ledgers. I can act as a diplomat to talk with our enemies, try to negotiate a peace, and if they won't have peace I can fight. I am better with a blade than most of father's soldiers."

A chill runs down Damaia's spine. "Wait, foreigners? Are you talking about Prince Teren's colony? I spent time there. I have friends there! We can't be fighting them, can we? Who is this enemy?"

Damaia's mother sighs and pats her arm gently, "Oh dear, not this again. You're so forgetful today." A young tiefling boy runs over to the pair and hands a note to Damaia's mother, before bowing and dashing off. "Oh, it seems that there's to be another ball tonight. Lord Falarun is returning from his conquest in the east. Looks like we might have driven those foreigners out after all!" She smiles brightly and clasps Damaia's hands. "We must get you a new gown for tonight. Lord Falarun is single, you know, and you're not getting any younger. Wasted all those years off running about who knows where when you should have been giving me grandchildren!"

The archway flashes again, and Damaia feels something in the back of her mind - she knows if she doesn't go through the archway soon, she will be left to remain in this new reality forever.

[Meltheim]

Auklan - [Living Gate]

Auklan hefts his maul, contemplating the beast's proposal. Considering. His blood boils with a desire to fight, and yet... with that voice in his head his mind drifts yet again back to that elf, Morian, who so bravely competed with him and his kin. Must I condemn them all for the actions of some? Auklan thought to himself. The weight of Auklan's maul seemed to increase, drawing his attention back to it. He eyes dark to the end of his devastating weapon. Dried blood still stuck to it in many places. Much of that blood came from foul and vile creatures. Yet some of it did not. Auklan was not always in control of himself when the bloodlust took him. He knows that he can loose himself in battle. That voice in the back of his head comes again, "The Living Gate is a test. It shows you what you need to see, and offers you a choice. You can lose yourself in the Gate if you are not careful. The way out will appear but once." "I must not loose myself," Auklan says aloud, shaking his head. "Not to bloodlust. If there is a great beast that digs at Rockhide's belly, that I will fight. That I will kill. But I will not run headlong into a battle in which I know not who is friend and who is foe. Not again."


The light of the archway flickers as Auklan talks with the Magma giant. "If you will not fight alongside me, then I have no use for you!" The creature hefts its own maul of obsidian, roughly the size of Auklan himself, then raises it overhead, preparing for a two handed smash. Through the gap in his legs, Auklan sees the light of the archway fading.

[Meltheim]

Roman - [Living Gate]


This is ... not unfamiliar, mused Roman silently. Though I don't remember it.

Though his neck twitches at the first instance of the so-called sound in his mind, Roman doesn't otherwise react physically -- instead of shaking his head No, he simply stays silent and still, awaiting more communication.

"I ... do not Understand. I intuit, if that's of any use to you," the student of wizardry replies both aloud and mentally. "Right now I intuit that my appearing here rather than in some battle against Wrong creatures is no mistake, and that I need not hurry on past. Show me the Task? I do wish to See and Touch and Understand."

There is a whirring, grinding sound as two of the crystalline creatures crash into each other in their haste to work. The resulting pile of crystals slowly separates, reforming into two individuals. Each now is a composite of their original crystals and the other, their colors and gemstones mixed. The structure the creatures were nearest to resembles the fey crossing that Roman and his companions used to first cross into the Feywild when racing to the Conagree.

The Task is the Lattice. We rebuild to keep the Wrong out. Your kind let the Wrong in. You can help us rebuild it.

There is another crash like sound, and Roman's attention is drawn to a pair of pillars, somewhat resembling the summoning portal used in Paddleston. Then another sound, and a distinct archlike structure similar to the Living Gate portal that he and his companions went through moments (hours? days?) ago. Finally, there appears to be a fourth structure, circular and large. In fact, Roman can just glimpse a rippling around the edges, similar to that of an ocean tide gently going in and out. The circular structure is suddenly destroyed as several of the shard creatures disassemble the outer edges, causing it to collapse.

The Lattice does not work. Too many doors. You have Seen many doors. You have Touched many doors. You Intuit doors? You help keep them closed.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]

Reaching out to catch the discarded piece, Hallowhiem firmly planted the token back on the board. "I have sacrificed no one. Lost many I have, but I have never willing let any under my protection fall. No. I once made a bargain with you for power, to gain the strength that I needed to save those important to me."

Looking at the pieces still on the floor, his heart falls. They had all fallen, and there was nothing he could do to protect them. His hands falls to his hip, one landing on an enchanted mug, the other resting on the frosty axe that once belonged to Ja'qar. Drawing it, he slams it down on the board between his allies and The Lady of the White Well, his inherited armor gleaming in the light. "I have played your game long enough Lady. But I will play no more!"

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Living Gate]

Damaia smiles as the lingering confusion left her. She knew what needed to happen. This was not a future she would let come to pass. Someday her place might be at the mines again, but not like this. Never like this. She shook her hands free from her mother's, turning back to the writing desk. "Oh, you know me mother. Never reliable enough to do what you want." She said as she searched through the writing supplies in the desk drawer. Finally she put her hands on the tool she was looking for. She bent over and took the pen knife to the seams along each leg. She glanced up at the shocked look on her mother's face. "But always reliable to do what needs doing." As soon as she had sliced up the second seam she tried to dart past her mother and make a run for the gate.

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]



Reaching out to catch the discarded piece, Hallowhiem firmly planted the token back on the board. "I have sacrificed no one. Lost many I have, but I have never willing let any under my protection fall. No. I once made a bargain with you for power, to gain the strength that I needed to save those important to me."

Looking at the pieces still on the floor, his heart falls. They had all fallen, and there was nothing he could do to protect them. His hands falls to his hip, one landing on an enchanted mug, the other resting on the frosty axe that once belonged to Ja'qar. Drawing it, he slams it down on the board between his allies and The Lady of the White Well, his inherited armor gleaming in the light. "I have played your game long enough Lady. But I will play no more!"

Hallowhiem's armor flares brightly and appears to grow more solid, more robust. Dozens of additional plates and rivets burst forth, in an almost organic way, strengthening it. A light aura washes over it, reminding its wearer that the armor rewards those who take on more than they can chew.

"That's the spirit, I would not have my name attached to just any simpering diplomat who would turn tail just to save his own hide. Remember, I am the product of betrayal - Sehanine, my mother and coincidentally the one your Eladrin friend worships so, was tricked into betraying Corellon, the one you worship so. It seems you have found fit to wedge yourself firmly in my family's affairs, which is why I have taken such a shine to you." The game table changes once again, showing five simple pieces on a star-shaped board, with each section terminating in an arch near the center. A mist curls tendrils around the edges of the board, each creeping closer to the pieces. When Hallowhiem looks at the mist, he is filled with a feeling of emptiness. Damaia's piece is nearest the center, close to the arch. Hallowhiem's piece is wedged firmly in the middle of his section, while the others are all in the second position, two moves away from leaving.

"You do not sacrifice your friends, but will you draw the attention of the Void to ensure their own safety?"

[Meltheim]

Damaia - [Living Gate]



Damaia smiles as the lingering confusion left her. She knew what needed to happen. This was not a future she would let come to pass. Someday her place might be at the mines again, but not like this. Never like this. She shook her hands free from her mother's, turning back to the writing desk. "Oh, you know me mother. Never reliable enough to do what you want." She said as she searched through the writing supplies in the desk drawer. Finally she put her hands on the tool she was looking for. She bent over and took the pen knife to the seams along each leg. She glanced up at the shocked look on her mother's face. "But always reliable to do what needs doing." As soon as she had sliced up the second seam she tried to dart past her mother and make a run for the gate.

Damaia's mother sputters uselessly as Damaia races past her, years of athleticism returning in mere seconds. Obstacles of all kinds seem to miraculously appear in front of her - a small child with a ball, an apple cart, even a porter and several barrels of ale - but they are simple illusion, now that Damaia understands the game. Vaulting, dodging and twisting around, she reaches the archway just as the light begins to fade.

And just as quickly, Damaia finds herself back in the cavern, surrounded by a dozen of the little rock creatures. They seem surprised at her sudden appearance, and cheer her arrival. It appears she is the first of her party to return. The room appears brighter than before, and Damaia finds that her hands are wreathed in flame. Then she sees it extend up her arms, then across her torso and eventually her entire body is covered. The creatures step back, wary of her new appearance. Just then, the flame winks out, though Damaia still feels the warmth radiating from her skin.

Damaia has survived the Trials of the Living Gate. She has earned The Gift of Flame.

Gift of Flame
Level 7 Alternative Reward

Property
Your fire attacks ignore 5 points of fire resistance.

Attack Power (Fire, Teleportation)
Daily (Immediate Reaction)

Trigger: A creature within 10 squares of you takes fire damage.
Effect: You teleport 10 squares to a square adjacent to the triggering creature. Each enemy adjacent to you before and after the teleportation takes 3 fire damage.


Heroes of the Elemental Chaos, page 157

[Shular]

Throk


Throk - [Living Gate]

"Rogers, apparently, acknowledges the request, "[COLOR="#008000"]Yes yes, Councilman Goruvolder, we'll move on." He signals to some men in the back who begin walking toward Throk, each holding a pair of leather cuffs in their hands. "Councilman Throk, we'll check in with you later, yes?" Rogers asks. Just as the two guards get near, ready to restrain Throk, he sees an archway in the distance flash a bright purple.

Disregarding the strange people speaking to him, Throk thinks the archway must be his way out of this strange place. He rushes across the distance in an effort to run through the archway, pushing his way past the guards, if necessary.

Moves to go through the archway. Athletics, if necessary, to get past the guards: [roll0].
Alternatively, if he can charge the archway, his Badge of Berserker would negate OA's, so the guards might not get a grab attempt.

[Meltheim]

Throk - [Living Gate]



Disregarding the strange people speaking to him, Throk thinks the archway must be his way out of this strange place. He rushes across the distance in an effort to run through the archway, pushing his way past the guards, if necessary.

Moves to go through the archway. Athletics, if necessary, to get past the guards: [roll0].
Alternatively, if he can charge the archway, his Badge of Berserker would negate OA's, so the guards might not get a grab attempt.

Just as Throk starts to move, the crowd steps back, apparently afraid of the man and what he might do. Within seconds he has crossed the length of the room and is through the archway.

Landing on the other side, next to Damaia, Throk finds himself surrounded by more of the little rock creatures. They instantly step back when he comes through. Throk feels a warmth radiating off of Damaia, and she similarly feels an urge to take a step back. The other three party members are still within the Gate.

Throk has passed the Trials of the Living Gate, and has been awarded a Fearsome Reputation

Fearsome Reputation
Level 7 Alternative Reward

Property
You gain a +1 item bonus to Intimidate checks.

Power (Fear)
Daily (Free Action)

Trigger: You score a critical hit against an enemy with a weapon attack.
Effect: That enemy and each enemy adjacent to it take a -2 penalty to attack rolls until the end of your next turn.

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [In the cavern]

Damaia steps away from Throk as he arrives, making sure not to get any closer to the little stone creatures in the process. These new flames were unusual to her. While she felt confident in her skill with magic fire, caution was warranted with something new. She looks at Throk, trying to give him a friendly and confident smile, but even still it is edged with nervousness.

"Well I guess that's it then," she says to Throk. "Let me see if I can learn more from these little guys." She turns to the rock creatures and speaks to them in their tongue. <Primordial>"Have we passed through the Living Gate? Where is Lo Kag? What about our other friends have they passed this way yet?"</Primordial>

[Meltheim]

Damaia and Throk - [Rockhide Mountain - Sky Pool]

One of the rock creatures, possibly a leader of sorts, as it is taller and more robust looking than even the one who had previously spoken to Damaia, steps forward and addresses her. "<Primordial> You are the first to arrive. Lo-Kag has not come through. He has been in the Living Gate for nearly a full day now. It is possible that he did not seek the Exit.</Primordial>"

[Dakaran]

Auklan - [Living Gate]


The light of the archway flickers as Auklan talks with the Magma giant. "If you will not fight alongside me, then I have no use for you!" The creature hefts its own maul of obsidian, roughly the size of Auklan himself, then raises it overhead, preparing for a two handed smash. Through the gap in his legs, Auklan sees the light of the archway fading.

Auklan - [Living Gate]
As the magma giant moves to attack Auklan his instincts react without a thought and he shifts his feet and hefts his maul in preparation for a fight. As his mind catch up to his muscles though he opens his mouth to speak to the giant. No! I won't fight you either! You are a part of the mountain, maybe even Rockhide himself. I will protect my home and my people. I am not your foe, though I cannot make you see that. With that, Auklan holds his maul close and charges forward with incredible speed, but instead of moving to attack he instead rushes towards a fading light in the shape of an open archway.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]

Standing, Hallowhiem towers over the table is his enhanced armor. Drawing his borrowed blade out of the table, the arcane paladin stares down at the lovely Arch Fey before him. "I will hold the line." he announces in a strong voice his grandfather often used before starting a ceremony. Looking at the fallen pieces on the floor, his eyes focus on the Eladrin Knight. "But as you've reminded me, I have never been alone." Closing his eyes, he focuses his thoughts to a friend of his, named after a knight that fell shortly after he had arrived on this continent.

Jirus, his Fey Companion. With a simple summoning, Hallowhiem could call his companion to his side, and together, they could handle any threat. A concentration of will, and the call was complete.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Living Gate]

Roman watches the work, the gem creatures' movement. He listens distractedly to the speaker's flat statements, much of his attention racing around in his own mind.

... Let the Wrong in? Of course, the Wrong is 'outside'. This world of crystal and void is not also 'outside', though. It's not inside or outside. This is a place of defining sides ... creating doors. And destroying them, apparently. A Place of Doors.

"I might be able to help keep individual doors closed, yes, but if the problem is too many doors, what is needed is to make doors into Not-Doors -- through transmutation or destruction. Or we can redefine what is on each side of doors, individually or as a class. Redefinition is somewhat beyond my current educational level but a central skill of intuition is faking it til you make it. And transmutation I know much better."

As he speaks, Roman summons magic power to craft visual representations of ritual texts for locking, ending and altering portals. Then comes a more vague illusion showing what little Roman's logical mind can supply with certainty in a proposed ritual for having a door alter what is on either side of it.

The illusion drawings don't look as Roman intended, though they strike him as intuitively related.

[Meltheim]

Auklan - [Living Gate]


As the magma giant moves to attack Auklan his instincts react without a thought and he shifts his feet and hefts his maul in preparation for a fight. As his mind catch up to his muscles though he opens his mouth to speak to the giant. No! I won't fight you either! You are a part of the mountain, maybe even Rockhide himself. I will protect my home and my people. I am not your foe, though I cannot make you see that. With that, Auklan holds his maul close and charges forward with incredible speed, but instead of moving to attack he instead rushes towards a fading light in the shape of an open archway.

The magma giant swings furiously as Auklan darts through, narrowly missing the surprisingly quick Goliath. Just as the giant readies for a second swing, the mountain erupts in flame and smoke. Lava pours down the side of the mountain, destroying what is left of the village. Auklan manages to dive toward the open archway and finds himself skidding face first into the pool of water in the Sky Pool room. The rock creatures instantly swarm him to help him up.

Auklan has passed the trials of the Living Gate and has earned the Nimble Hunter Pounce

Nimble Hunter Pounce
Level 7 Alternative Reward

Utility Power Encounter (Move Action)
Effect: You jump a number of squares up to your speed. After the next melee attack you make this round, you can shift up to half your speed.

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem - [Living Gate]




Standing, Hallowhiem towers over the table is his enhanced armor. Drawing his borrowed blade out of the table, the arcane paladin stares down at the lovely Arch Fey before him. "I will hold the line." he announces in a strong voice his grandfather often used before starting a ceremony. Looking at the fallen pieces on the floor, his eyes focus on the Eladrin Knight. "But as you've reminded me, I have never been alone." Closing his eyes, he focuses his thoughts to a friend of his, named after a knight that fell shortly after he had arrived on this continent.

Jirus, his Fey Companion. With a simple summoning, Hallowhiem could call his companion to his side, and together, they could handle any threat. A concentration of will, and the call was complete.

One by one, the pieces on the game board move toward the end position. Damaia, then Throk, then Auklan each wink out and their spaces go dull. The mist that had begun curling around their spaces instead redistributes, focusing on the remaining two instead. Roman remains unmoved in his position, and it almost appears as if his section of the game board is actually rearranging itself. The Lady of the White Well looks on, amused, before turning back to Hallowhiem. "Looks like you are about to be alone after all, you friends are deserting you." The windows of the tavern begin to darken as black, smoky tendrils slither in from under the door. They probe the air, moving slowly, almost as if they are scenting something.

Just as the words slip from her lips, Jirus pops into view. The Lady furrows her brow for a moment, then glances back at the board. A second piece appears in Hallowhiem's space, the board doing what it can to accommodate the sudden change. "Well then, that seems to be cheating. I approve - you must always seize the advantage." The tavern lights dim somewhat as the tone changes. In the corner, a goliath comes into view. He is slumped over the bar, unmoving. The door to the tavern flashes brightly, taking on the appearance of the archway Hallowhiem originally entered through. The smoky tendrils appear to move away from the archway, instead pooling around the outer edges of the room.

"Now, I was told that I get to keep one of you. Which one will it be?" The Lady says the last while bobbing her head in a sing-song way, pointing back and forth between Hallowhiem, Jirus and the unnamed Goliath. "There isn't much time now . . . who to choose, who to choose?"

[Meltheim]

Roman - [Living Gate]




Roman watches the work, the gem creatures' movement. He listens distractedly to the speaker's flat statements, much of his attention racing around in his own mind.

... Let the Wrong in? Of course, the Wrong is 'outside'. This world of crystal and void is not also 'outside', though. It's not inside or outside. This is a place of defining sides ... creating doors. And destroying them, apparently. A Place of Doors.

"I might be able to help keep individual doors closed, yes, but if the problem is too many doors, what is needed is to make doors into Not-Doors -- through transmutation or destruction. Or we can redefine what is on each side of doors, individually or as a class. Redefinition is somewhat beyond my current educational level but a central skill of intuition is faking it til you make it. And transmutation I know much better."

As he speaks, Roman summons magic power to craft visual representations of ritual texts for locking, ending and altering portals. Then comes a more vague illusion showing what little Roman's logical mind can supply with certainty in a proposed ritual for having a door alter what is on either side of it.

The illusion drawings don't look as Roman intended, though they strike him as intuitively related.

The illusory figures solidify into crystalline structures, somehow fitting together despite all of Roman's senses telling him that they should not. The first structure forms a large pillar which glows brightly in the area. Each of the crystalline creatures immediately stops to turn and look at the new structure. Somehow, it seems more present than the other construction that had been done previously. Immediately the creatures begin working on a second, doing their best to imitate the original.

This . . . this . . . somehow the voice in Roman's head appears to be shocked or stunned. This is not the Lattice but this is Right. You are a Maker. You must stay and teach us more.

With the twin pillars complete, a soft purple light begins to glow between them. Roman senses that the space between the pillars is a portal between worlds. A vague picture comes into view, revealing a tavern of sorts. A large goliath is slumped over at a bar, while a knight and an owlbear stand playing a game with a beautiful woman. Just then, a third pillar appears next to the second, and another image slides into view - that of a dark cave. Through that portal appears a dozen small rock creatures and three warriors, one with horns and the other standing tremendously tall.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Living Gate]

Watching the smoky tendrils seep into the tavern, Hallowhiem glances about, seeing the newcomer by the bar, his course sets itself in his mind. "Jirus, get the civilian out. I'll hold the line until you're both through." Squaring himself before the Lady of the White Well, shield and axe ready. "If there is someone you wish to lay a claim on, then here I stand. But lest you forget, I serve another before you, and with greater power. My highest lord, Corellon, before whom you are but a gnat."

Over his enlarged breastplate, a symbol appears, a starburst with extended vertical rays. The symbol of his faith, the subject of his devotion, the iconic he had dedicated his live to upholding the principals of, his divine patron. "My life is fleeting and short. But if I live, and give, my life to the service of others, than my short trek on this world will be for something. I grew up hearing tales of my grandfather's people defeating your ilk. I am not afeared of you Lady. Perhaps one day, a tale will be told of my adventures. Perhaps not. But in either scenario, I will not allow you to hurt anyone else under my guard."

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Living Gate]

Watching the smoky tendrils seep into the tavern, Hallowhiem glances about, seeing the newcomer by the bar, his course sets itself in his mind. "Jirus, get the civilian out. I'll hold the line until you're both through." Squaring himself before the Lady of the White Well, shield and axe ready. "If there is someone you wish to lay a claim on, then here I stand. But lest you forget, I serve another before you, and with greater power. My highest lord, Corellon, before whom you are but a gnat."

Over his enlarged breastplate, a symbol appears, a starburst with extended vertical rays. The symbol of his faith, the subject of his devotion, the iconic he had dedicated his live to upholding the principals of, his divine patron. "My life is fleeting and short. But if I live, and give, my life to the service of others, than my short trek on this world will be for something. I grew up hearing tales of my grandfather's people defeating your ilk. I am not afeared of you Lady. Perhaps one day, a tale will be told of my adventures. Perhaps not. But in either scenario, I will not allow you to hurt anyone else under my guard."

Suddenly, a bright, thin vertical line appears in the middle of the tavern, before somehow twisting and expanding until it is a large rectangular shape. Through it, Hallowhiem can see a place that is completely empty. Gemlike creatures appear in the distance, and a robed person appears to be looking back through at him. Jirus half lifts, half mauls the goliath, dragging him through the portal into the other void. The smoky tendrils fill the room further.

"This?" the Lady of the White Well begins, pointing to the unnatural fog filling the room, "This is not mine - it is something from another Realm entirely. That is not mine. You are mine already, but I'll happily take one of those instead." she says the last pointing through the portal at one of the crystal beings moving about. "And how dare you bring dear old Dad into this situation." she says, referring to the prominent starburst adorning Hallowhiem's armor. She pulls a long, glowing sword from nowhere, hefting it in her hands. "This was to be yours, but it's only meant for someone who isn't going to run off and die the first chance they get." She slides the sword back into nowhere, before standing up to move away from the game table. There appears to be a gap now between Hallowhiem and Roman's sections, and Jirus has moved off the board completely.

The fog now covers most of the tavern, though it has pulled away from the glowing archway at the front and has started heading toward the new doorway into the void. "I suggest you figure out what you're doing soon, because I'll not have my gifts be wasted on the indecisive." The Lady smiles and fades from view, leaving Hallowhiem alone in the room, with two possible exits.

[Dakaran]

Auklan - [Living Gate]


The magma giant swings furiously as Auklan darts through, narrowly missing the surprisingly quick Goliath. Just as the giant readies for a second swing, the mountain erupts in flame and smoke. Lava pours down the side of the mountain, destroying what is left of the village. Auklan manages to dive toward the open archway and finds himself skidding face first into the pool of water in the Sky Pool room. The rock creatures instantly swarm him to help him up.

Auklan has passed the trials of the Living Gate and has earned the Nimble Hunter Pounce

Nimble Hunter Pounce
Level 7 Alternative Reward

Utility Power Encounter (Move Action)
Effect: You jump a number of squares up to your speed. After the next melee attack you make this round, you can shift up to half your speed.

Auklan shakes his head, his eyes trying to adjust to the light of the room. He lets himself be aided to his feet by the rock creatures and expresses his gratitude with a weak smile. What... he begins to think to himself then his memory comes crashing back ...I returned. I didn't find Lo-Kag, but I do not feel as though I returned in failure either. Auklan has mixed emotions as he thinks upon how narrowly he managed to return and that if Lo-Kag has not returned, then he very likely succumbed to the archway and will not. His sense of depression however is seemingly balanced by a renewed sense of purpose and strength. Auklan is surprised to find himself feeling... more confident, stronger, more capable. He feels as though he could bound around the room with little exertion. It's at that moment he finally looks around the room and realizes that Damia and Throk are also in the room, though something seems different about them. "Damia, Throk! You went through the archway! And you survived! Ha! This thing is most wonderful!" Auklan shouts in his broken common as he claps his hands together with a resounding clap. "This mean you are most worthy! That Rockhide feel you worthy! I could not believe that you hurt Rockhide!" Auklan then mutters something about a magma beast accompanied by a string of unfamiliar words, though regardless of the language barrier it's obvious Auklan just uttered something extremely foul. Auklan looks around the room again, realizing the others aren't here. "Did others enter the archway? Have you seen them?"

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - Living Gate

Alone in the murky room, Hallowhiem stares at the now empty space. "I made a mistake dealing with you Lady, but one I'll either see corrected, or die trying. But in the mean time, I too had best take my leave of this place." Seeing the portal that his companion had dragged the Goliath to, the arcane paladin hastily makes his way through.

The space was even more unfamiliar, covered in bizarre crystalline creatures, but one figure stood out among them. "Roman my friend, is that you?" I fear we are trapped in some manner of Fey maze, and we should find an exit quickly. Something external is coming, and I suspect we had best not be here when it arrives."

[Meltheim]

Hallowhiem, Jirus and Roman - [Living Gate]

Just as the Paladin steps through the portal, he hears a cacophany of glass breaking and sees the weird shardlike creatures carting off a pillar, breaking down the framework of the portal into the tavern and carting it off to the other side of the 'room' next to another similar pillar.

Jirus hoots loudly and draws Hallowhiem's attention. His shape appears to have compressed somewhat, and he seems faceted like a gem himself. Seconds pass and his form twists again, becoming flatter, blockier. Within the minute he is simply a Jirus-sized cube of brown, and a flat brown rectangle, then simply nothing. The goliath lays facedown, clad in black robes and sandals, unmoving.

There are two remaining portals in the room. One a brilliant purple, flanked by alabaster pillars similar to the Living Gate, glows brightly. The other is its opposite - pure black nothingness, appearing to draw in all light.

A voice sounds in Roman and Hallowhiem's head The last door must be closed.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia turns as she hears someone else enter the cavern. A brief glimmer of concern crosses her face as she sees that it is not Roman or Hal, but it is quickly replaced by a smile as the robust goliath greets them. "I saw Hal and Roman go into the portal, but I was the first to make it through. The rock creatures here have confirmed that no one else, not even Lo-Kag have come through before me. From what I saw in my visions, it seemed that I had to hurry to make it through. I don't know though, things were very bad there... It seemed like a vision of the future, but one I can't imagine allowing to pass, so maybe the need to hurry was imagined as well. Hopefully they haven't gotten trapped in there." She hugs herself with her arms, hoping the spirits will see the others through.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Living Gate]

"The last Door must be closed," Roman echoes aloud. "Hal, my friend, we need to leave now; I don't think we can help Lo-Kag in the time available. But I must also stay here. I am torn."

As he speaks, the eladrin's shape is changing. Like Jirus, he becomes a cubic box. At the word torn, the box splits with a drumroll of muffled snaps, like the breaking of branches after an ice storm. Two Romans push the box's sides open from within. They look at each other with unreadable glances, then one takes Hallowhiem by the arm and hurries toward the bright, violet pillars, repeating, "We need to leave now." The other can be seen turning to the crystal creatures and saying, "I think the hero and I will be safe one we have passed through. Close it behind us. I'll stay, to help as much as I can ..."

The Roman who now stands before the gate with a hand on Hallowhiem, looking a bit lurid in the purple glow, says to him, "I can explain when we're through, Sir Hallowhiem. You'll have no trouble finding Jirus again, if I understand what's going on." Then he walks between the pillars.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Sky Pool]

The mountain rumbles, this time significantly longer than the last. Dust falls from the ceiling and the small galeb duhr scramble around, sealing fissures left and right. A stalactite crashes down on the far wall and everyone is knocked around, having to fight to keep balance.

The Living Gate glows brightly, then fades. Hallowhiem stands there, the figure of a Goliath slumped over his shoulder. Another figure stands behind Hallowhiem, looking similar to Roman but outlined in a purple glow. In fact, the image of Roman is just slightly transparent, and appears more as an illusory bit of magic than anyone else.

Keokuk and two of the guards come running into the room. "We've got to move, now. Looks like Rockhide is waking up!" He motions for the group to follow him out of the cave.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Sky Pool]

The figure which seems like Roman reacts with surprising speed to the Goliath chief's shout, moving as directed toward the exit. He calls over his shoulder to his compatriots as he runs. "The portal is closed! Nothing to stay here for, now!"

The wizard seems to be unconsciously moving to avoid the scrambling galeb duhr as he crosses the cave.

[Dakaran]

Auklan Thundercharger, Goliath Barbarian

Auklan stares at Hallowheim with what appear to be a goliath flung over his shoulder and tries to catch a glimpse at his face when Keokuk burst into the cavern and ordered everyone out. Auklan pauses a moment more trying to see, but as rock chunks begin to bounce off of his shoulders his attention is pulled back towards the immediate need to moving to safety.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Sky Pool]

Keokuk steps forward and takes the unconscious goliath off of Hallowhiem's shoulders. "Come on now, move!" he shouts, and heads for the exit. The elemental rock servants do their best to patch what fissures they can, but a gout of flame all but melts one of them in the corner. What remains of the Living Gate crumbles to dust, destroyed entirely except for the keystone at the top of the arch. That falls to the ground, bouncing once before somehow gaining enough height and arc to end up in Roman's ethereal hands.

The way to the exit is clear and the party is able to escape without much difficulty. As soon as they get through the door, however, the galeb duhr begin throwing themselves into a pile, stacking in a formation of sorts. Damaia hears one of them shout something about getting to safety and returning to the molten earth, though it is difficult to tell with the chaos around her.

Outside it is bright day, with the sun hanging overhead. Clan members race back and forth gathering supplies, ushering children around and generally doing what they can to prepare for whatever comes next.

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Rockhide Range]

Damaia glances at Roman and Hallowheim's reappearances with a questioning look on her face. She is concerned for them, but there is little time to address it now. They seem to be at least able to move, which was what was most important for now. She's about to offer her assistance to Hal in carrying the goliath out, when Keokuk steps forward and takes the large figure from him. "Let's go!" she says as she starts to move. <Primordial>"Thank you, and be safe!"</Primordial> she calls out over her shoulder in the strange language of the rock creatures, though she does not wait for a response she's already on her way up the passage.

Jogging out of the cave, she is momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight. She puts a hand up to shade her eyes, and blinking a few times the village slowly comes into focus. "What can we do to help?" she asks Keokuk.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Two of the guards carry the unconscious Goliath off to safety, while Keokuk barks orders to his people. The chief is in the distance doing the same, while people run around gathering supplies. A small group of extremely muscled (even for Goliath standards) individuals have pickaxes and are carving a channel of sorts in the side of the mountain. Keokuk shouts to the group, "The mountain is going to erupt if we don't work quickly enough - we need an outlet for the lava, we need to evacuate the area and get people and supplies to safety, and we'll need to tend to the wounded and weary in case something happens!"

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

The eladrin with whom Hallowhiem and Throk had some familiarity would have leapt to give emotional succor to those who might soon need it, as a gesture of Sehanine's love. But this ephemeral twin only glances with a flat look of disappointment in the direction of the tent city.

Instead -- without putting down the rather heavy-looking keystone -- he studies the shape of the mountain and then quietly goes to work aiding the goliath miners. As they break up and loosen stone, he furrows his brow and mentally whisks away debris, pulls the smaller rocks toward his position, even teleports boulders out. An irregular stream of solid stone tickles Rockhide's skin on its way downslope, threatening an avalanche as disastrous as the pyroclastic flow the channelers are attempting to redirect.

A short time after beginning the work, Roman raises his voice in a chant familiar to sports lovers a continent away, speaking in Andurii for the first time in weeks: "Hustle! Get to it! Miners! Let's do it! Hustle, get to it! ..."

[Shular]

Throk

Uncertain where he could be most useful, Throk sees "Roman" assisting with the digging, and so he turns to help with the evacuation, helping those who are straggling, "encouraging" them to move faster with shouts and snarls. At the same time he lifts and carries what he can.

[Dakaran]

Auklan Thundercharger - Goliath Barbarian

Auklan stands in shock for a moment, memories of his encounter on the other side of the archway racing through his mind. No! he thinks to himself, I will not let my people come to harm! Not in this reality, Rockhide. With that, Auklan tosses his maul straight up into the air, beats his chest with both fists and lets loose a mighty roar as he catches the weapon. Tiny red tendrils of blood flash across the goliath's eyes like bolts of lightning. Auklan streaks with incredible speed towards where the others are working to dig a trench, raises his maul high, then brings it down with an incredible crash, sending rock and debris spraying in all direction. He continues to pound and smash at a frightening pace.

I've having Auklan whip himself into a rage and use a charge attack along with a minor encounter ability that is appropriately called Stonebreaker: Until the end of your next turn, you gain a +5 bonus to Strength checks to break objects, and you deal double damage against objects.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

As many of the others went to help with the creation of the lava passage, Damaia decided to go with Throk toward the village. The evacuation efforts weren't as far along as they needed to be. While Damaia could certainly swing a hammer at some rocks, she thought her skills might be better employed helping to get people moving. She knew how to manage people and make the sort of quick decisions that were needed at a time like this. So Damaia waded into the crowded maelstrom that was the tent city and immediately began organizing their efforts.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Standing besides the ethereal Roman that left through the portal with him, Hallowhiem channels pulses of arcane energy through his fingertips, pushing boulders away with eldritch energy as Dakaran makes them. Between blasts to clear a path, Hallowhiem glances at the ghostly figure beside him. He may not the expert of arcane matters that Roman wa-is, he knew more than the average man.

A flavoring of Echoing Dirge. Also, switching resistances to fire from psychic. Arcana to see what happened to Roman [roll0].

[Meltheim]

All - Rockhide Range - Tent City

The earth rumbles several times in a row, as boulders and smaller rocks begin to tumble from further up the mountain. Quick thinking and words of encouragement keep people out of harms way, and Damaia quickly finds that yelling is a good motivator regardless of the languages people speak.

The work at creating a riverbed, of sorts, for the eventual lava flow is successful. Within a minute or so, a significant amount of rock is removed to channel disaster away from the village, and some of those working are able to stop to take a breath. A dozen small fissures, like those the party saw inside, appear on the outer edges of the mountain. Seconds later they burst forth, spewing lava across the ground. A majority of it is funneled into the carved path and flows (relatively) harmlessly over the edge of the cliff into the lands below. Some other trickles ooze out in other places, though it moves slowly enough that people are able to clear the area and avoid injury and damage.

Though nobody in the group really has experience with volcanic activity, it is clear that this is not a typical eruption. Rather, it appears more like the mountain is actually bleeding, as the elemental beings inside insisted. The immediate threat appears to have subsided, though the lava flow continues unabated for the time being.

While the party tries to figure out what exactly is going on, how long it will continue and how best they can help, Hallowhiem is distracted by Roman's new appearance. The brief time he spent with Roman in the Living Gate leads him to believe that the actual Roman is somehow still inside the other "reality" and that this Roman is something else. Something related, for sure, but not entirely the friend he has known these past several months. When detecting magical energies, creatures of the feywild glow a soft blue light, as their origin is magical. In his current manifestation, Roman appears almost more solid than before, as if he was entirely elemental arcane energy.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Keokuk and the chief walk over to the group, their body language indicating that they are purposefully putting on a mask of strength and confidence. Lo-Kag remains unconscious, though he has been taken to a healer's tent for the time being.

"Thank you, on behalf of our clan, for your efforts here. Without your help, we surely would have faced devastation similar to what the other clans have experienced in this past year." Keokuk's tone is measured, as if he is speaking with a level of formality, from his official station within the clan.

Chief Vimak steps forward, extending his hand to grip the arms of each of the party members in turn. "We owe you a debt that cannot ever be repaid. What can we do to try and even the score?" His speech is halting and slow, but he does his best to speak in a familiar language to the group.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Almost unexpectedly, Roman's arm seems normally solid in the chief's great grasp. As Vimak speaks of the clan's debt, Roman turns a steady gaze toward Hallowhiem, looking to him for the group's answer. The knight gets a flickering sensation of a thought/feeling/image, an Andurii phrase not used frequently in this new land: If we do not hang together, we will surely all hang separately.

The "we" feels much larger than the few individuals standing here on a mountain.

But the flicker vanishes again, with no sign but intuition to suggest it was external.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

The mental push from Roman's current incarnation guides him back to his diplomatic roots. "As you know, there is a danger, a sickness, spreading in this land. Join our alliance, and when the time comes, together, we will defeat this rising plague." Speaking slowly, he extends his open palm, as the most universal symbol of friendship that he knows.

[Meltheim]

All - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

With a puzzled expression, Vimak turns to Keokuk. Keokuk nods, suggesting "There is a radical elven faction that is doing harm to some of the other communities. Lo-Kag told me of this before he went into the caves. This is what you speak of, correct?" The chief nods thoughtfully. "We can help downlanders in this fight. Auklan - you can go with the downlanders to see the nature of this threat, and to let us know how Rockhide Clan can help."

[Dakaran]

Auklan looks from his chief, to the group of brave souls beside him, to his people moving about, and finally up to the peak of Rockhide. "I do this thing!" Auklan says with a grunt and a heft of his massive maul.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Roman's face brightens, and the strange aura around him seems ... cleaner ... as he lets out an inaudible sigh of relief at Auklan's response.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

Hallowhiem places his hands in a manner he's observed the other Goliaths' take when in a respectful pose. "I thank you wise Keokuk. Your aid will be invaluable when the time comes." He turns to his companions, changed as they are. His mission is half done, and yet, things seem to be darker than before. But there was hope. Roman seemed to have reached some new level, and while he would miss is friend, this projection was still here. Now it was time to go back down that long mountain, and into the mines.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia almost has to force a smile. She is of course glad that the goliaths have agreed to help, but too much of what has occurred here has troubled her. While their help is certainly welcome and needed, she wonders whether it will be enough to push back the threats they face. "Thank you for your help. I'm sure it will be needed. Hopefully when this is all over I can find my way back here for another of your competitions."

Once all details have been taken care of, and everyone's goodbye's have been said, Damaia turns to the group. "I have to admit, I wasn't looking forward to this next part, but it needs to be done. I guess it's time for us to go visit my people. I'll warn you, my father can be a difficult man to negotiate with. I know he wasn't too happy with my decision to stay with your people, but I have no idea how he'll react to my return. But it I guess we'll just have to figure out how to deal with his attitude, whatever it is."

As they walk, Damaia makes her way up next to Roman. She speaks to him in hushed tones, "I don't know how to breach this, but are you okay? It doesn't matter to me what exactly you look like, as long as you aren't in any sort of distress, but I guess I just don't know what to make of your changes. If you need help or anything, I'll do whatever I can."

[Dimers]

Roman - [Rockhide Range - Tent City]

During the short discussion, Roman's face and stance give the impression that he's not much present ... mostly blank, though suddenly fixated for moments here and there. The blessings and thanks he gives while preparing to leave start out awkwardly, as if he needs a moment to remember who each person is and how that means he should act. After the first few, it's clear that he is more in the here-and-now, giving his full focus to interacting, smiling and frowning with genuine feeling.

But as the wizard packs away the keystone and his belongings for travel, the focus fades again, and his face and outline begin to blur.

When Damaia engages him on the trail, at the end of a jaunty but mindless marching whistle-song, Roman comes to a stop. "Changes. Yes. I must seem very different now," he notes, glancing down as if unfamiliar with his body. His appearance starts becoming more solid, less fuzzy and ephemeral. "I ... I don't know how to broach this either, because I don't have words to explain what I think happened to me. There aren't stories like this in the myths of my people. I know I am ... hm. I know I'm somewhere else, there's another me somewhere else, doing something very important. But I'm here too! Mostly."

He looks up from his introspection, glances at Hal and Throk, addresses Damaia. "I think it might take a while to get used to being partly here. Or perhaps the separation ... well, that's speculation for another day; I simply don't know enough to guess yet. In short, I'm fine. I think. And if not, well, I have the sensation that a century of navel-gazing would tell me less than a month of field testing. I don't know this body, this form, so well yet, but I'm excited to find out more." And with another round of weighty glances, Roman starts whistling a new tune and takes his next step on the path.

[Meltheim]

All - [Valley of Souls - Northern Route]

After saying their goodbyes and refilling stock of rations and water, the group departs. Auklan is able to show them a goat path which is a much easier way to descend, and after a few hours the group is back down in the valley floor.

The efforts at creating a channel for the lava proved successful, and the party sees the smoldering remains of several dozen trees on their way down. Overall the damage does not appear too severe, and already some of the fires have burned themselves out.

After reorienting themselves in the valley, Auklan and Damaia are able to indicate the general direction to the Tiefling capital in the Northern Wastes. The journey is long and over difficult terrain, and could take several weeks by foot. At this time of year, the northern areas of the continent are possibly waist-high in snow in some areas. The party will have to find a way to deal with the harsh weather that awaits them as they move further north.

I'll have a map updated tonight and replace this text with the map once it's ready.

[Dimers]

Roman -- [Valley of Souls]

As the five heroic adventurers (and one heroic owlbear) discuss their next move, with Roman making arguments for travel via the elven forests, the magician pauses in confusion. "Ironrock. Damaia, tell me the Iron Citadel has nothing to do with Ironrock? What is or was the Iron Citadel?" Though his somewhat ethereal face is hard to read, Roman seems suddenly quite worried.

Been re-reading our earlier adventures while looking up the name for Clawfeet. I found this (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=14881112&postcount=880).

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia shakes her head. "No. Nothing really to do with each other. Ironrock is my family's estate and connected mining operation. The closest link is my father who makes the occasional trip to the Iron Citadel. The Iron Citadel is the seat of government for my people. Its a heavily fortified structure containing the primary residence for the royalty. It also has living and working space for the members of the Senate while they are in session. Many of the senators spend most of the year there. My father has a seat on the senate, but he doesn't spend nearly the time there that most senators do." Damaia seems oblivious to the concern Roman shows. She's never been much for reading people's emotions, and between her recent sour attitude and Roman's strangeness, she doesn't pick up on it.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Valley of Souls - Northern Route]

Hallowhiem recalls what Roman is implying. Down in the dark, that memory will never leave him. The Eladrin's mental powers used that memory to turn some nasty thugs once. A powerful, dark memory.

"Before you joined us in my exile, we fought, a creature in the gnomish mines. It made several claims, one of which was that the Iron Citedal had fallen. Can you think of anyway to contact them, remotely, to see if this is the case? If so, we need to be careful."

[dariathalon]

Damaia

"Fallen? I haven't heard of any trouble there. I've been with your people for awhile now, so anything is possible. But I really have a hard time believing it. Like I said its very well defended. If you really want to check in, I know that many psionicists have the ability to send messages at range through rituals. I'm sure your arcanists can do similar things."

[Dimers]

Roman - [Valley of Souls]

Roman nods grimly at Hallowhiem's words. "Exactly that. And its claim was already borne out that the Emerald Grove too had fallen."


"If you really want to check in, I know that many psionicists have the ability to send messages at range through rituals. I'm sure your arcanists can do similar things."

"I can to a degree myself -- I could get a message from here to the Andurii colony without much trouble. Or, I think I can. It will be interesting to test whether the multiplied and divided me can perform as I believe. But I would need to know someone ... my Sending can only reach a person I have met." The wizard's disappointment is clear. :smallfrown:

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Valley of Souls - Northern Route]

Raising his shield to block a gust of cold wind, Hallowhiem chew on this thoughts. <He wouldn't have had time to meet many Tieflings turning his brief stint in the colony. And who knows who, if anyone, from the colony could be at the Iron Citedal. Much less if they have also been infected by this outside force. There has to be something..... MMRAWWW!!! Why can't anything go right!?>

Turning his face from the wind, he turns to his allies. "Then we will simply have to walk into the Iron Citedal. Damaia, I trust you to guide us through your lands. And should this infection have spread to your people, you have my sword."

Minor: Switch resistance from Lightning to Cold.

[Meltheim]

All - [Base of the Rockhide Range]

"Walk eh?" a small voice with a decidedly elven lilt perks up from a nearby rock. One of the Conagree steps out from the rock, his body passing through as if it were a simple curtain. "That will take you some time, even with those long legs." The gnome chuckles at his joke for a moment.

Glancing at the group, he squints his gemlike eyes, appraising each of the party members before noticing Hallowhiem and Throk. "I think I recognize a pair of you - delvers, right?" He taps his shoulder then points to the paladin and warrior. "Don't find Kruthiks anywhere but Traps, you two must have been part of that group who came through here months ago. We're quite grateful for the help, and for the allies." He says the last gesturing to a pin on his shirt, bearing the emblems of the Terenuri, Conagree, and Amethyst Tower.

"Are you all responsible for the rumbling upstairs?" He asks, pointing up to the top of the mountain.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Base of the Rockhide Range]

Roman's face shows pride at the gnome's reference to the recovery of the Argentum Infinitum, but a pained pride. There is no pure joy with Jaqar's death so fresh in his mind.


"Are you all responsible for the rumbling upstairs?" He asks, pointing up to the top of the mountain.

"Well. No, but." Roman appears to take in a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, though there's no sound with the motion. "Rockhide woke up; Rockhide was bleeding. The galeb duhr told us-- No, on second thought, I'm not sure I understand it myself; I'll let Damaia explain."

As the hearty tiefling speaks, Roman toys with magical illusions, trying to adapt a version of the gnome's badge to include a fourth emblem representing the goliath clan.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia places a hand on Hal's shoulder. "Thank you. I don't know what is going on at home, but I knew I could count on you to help my people if things are as dire as this prediction seems to indicate."

She steps forward after Roman mentions her. "Yes, I spoke with some galeb duhr. They seemed convinced that Rockhide, the ancient spirit of the mountain, was injured and dying. His blood was the lava pouring out. It seems connected to the incursions from elsewhere that we've been seeing cropping up throughout Oauhm. From what I've heard from my friends, they encountered one in your people's lands. We've seen another in Paddleston. Too much strangeness and danger, and that," she gestures up at the mountain, "is just one of the more obvious symptoms."

[Shular]

Throk

Throk remains silent during the discussion. Diplomacy was never his strong suit and, truth be told, he is beginning to feel ambivalent about the colony. After all, if they're going to banish him, why should he stay loyal to them. Nonetheless he nods at the option of travelling to the Iron Citadel. He actually manages a grin at the gnome's reference to their prior underground exploits.

[Meltheim]

All - [Base of Rockhide Range]

"I see, I see. Yes, the weird wavy creatures. We're calling them fel taints. Yes, things seem to be breaking on through here and there." The gnome stares off into the distance for a moment before coming to his senses. His gemlike eyes glitter briefly as he flashes a grin at the party. "So sorry, where are my manners. My name is Fixisalumneirein but you can call me Fix. And yes, that's bad even for a gnome. My mother had to pay homage to the family and so she joined a bunch of names together . . . you know what, nevermind."

He looks at the group, counting them in his head and making some quick calculations. "Anyway, I'm actually taking the convocation out for a run right now - preparing for things to come. You can join me if you like. That is, unless you have some business in the Conagree?" He says the last gesturing back toward the base of the mountain, which seems somewhat familiar to Hallowhiem, Roman and Throk.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Base of Rockhide Range]

Roman stops fiddling with his illusion and silently measures his companions' reaction to the suggestion Fix made. "Fix ... if your Clawfeet might enjoy a trip toward the Amethyst Tower, or even all the way to Ironrock, we would be grateful for the speed as well as your company. We don't know the terrain well and I think we'll all feel better with a larger group to ward off opportunistic predators. You sound eager to show your people are committed to the Alliance ... I wouldn't deny that this is a fine time for friendly support."

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Base of Rockhide Range]


Hallowhiem looks at Fix, and remembers the fel taints they encountered down below. The entire mission had been a failure on so many levels. That it ended with any of them walking out was still baffling. Lost in thought, he snaps back at the mention of business. "Not with the Conagree, not today. But if we may ride to the Amethyst Isle, we would gladly accept your aide."

[Meltheim]

All - Base of Rockhide Range

"Terrain?" Fix looks confused at the group, then says, "Oh, you took Clawfoots last time. Yeah they're all at the front - apparently you Terenuri wheez-ahrds can breed them or something. Anyway, no, I meant this."

He pulls a small figurine from his belt pouch. Carved intricately, it appears to be a bird. "You might want to make some room. These guys are big."

Holding the figuring up to his mouth, he produces a low whistling sound that slowly gets louder as it changes pitch. The wind appears to carry the notes off into the sky. "A convocation, by the way, is how you refer to a group of ..." the last is drowned out as the wind blows in with a mighty force. The *whoosh* of wings is heard as a massive eagle, easily 15 foot from wingtip to wingtip, lands on the ground in front of the gnome. " . . . eagles. It is the name of a group of eagles. Hello there, your Majesty." Fix says, bowing deeply. Before Fix stands a magnificent creature, brown and black mottled feathers with hints of blue, and what appears to be a crown of feathers atop his head.

The eagle bows in return, then screeches something, sparing a moment to glance back at the group. "Yes, I think we'll need one for each of them. No need to strain your brothers by having us double up. We can't all be sprightly, right?" The eagle tilts his head skyward and makes loud screeching noises. One by one, five more eagles land, each more massive than the first, though each distinct in its own way.

"Everyone, this is his Majesty, Ukhozi the Skylord. He's not really a king, in a normal sense I guess. It's just the nickname I gave him because of those tufts there above his ears." The group sees the plumage to which Fix refers, and the eagle appears to roll his eyes. "He's taken it as recognition of his power, though, and is the one who comes when I call." Ukhozi comes forward and lowers his head, allowing Fix to mount. Fix grips him just behind the wings, with his knees coming up where the wings meet the body. "Go on, find your eagle and bow respectfully. He, or she, will then let you mount. We'll do the patrol and then I'll see what I can do about getting you some help with transportation."

The five remaining eagles each stand, looking to Ukhozi for guidance. He nods his head, screeching in short bursts. Then the eagles look to the group and wait for the party members to come forward. Fix gives each eagle's name, allowing the party to make proper introductions.

First is a sleek bird with blue-grey coloring and a white chest, known as Wind-dancer. She is slightly larger than Ukhozi and has a fierce temperament.

Next is Andor, the largest of the group. He has a massive yellow beak and bold plumage, and seems a perfect fit for one of Auklan's size.

Cuatemoc steps forward next, a blue-beaked bird with bright yellow and white chest and long brown feathers, almost resembling hair, falling off its crest. He is easily the longest of the group, and the second largest.

The last two appears to be mirror images of each other. One is a snowy white female, while the other is jet black male. The twins, they are known, as Ygritte (white) and Wahweveh (black), respectively.

The birds each await their riders.

So either I can assign them or you can pick between you. Here are the real-life counterparts.

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/89/African_Crowned_Eagle_1.JPG
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/56/Harpia_harpyja_-Sao_Paulo_Zoo%2C_Brasil_-adult-8a.jpg
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/22/Riesenseeadler_Walsrode_2014_01.jpg
http://dinoanimals.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Philippine-eagle.jpg
http://centerofthewest.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/albino-rth-landing.jpg
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d4/Black_eagle.jpg

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Base of Rockhide Range]

Looking between the majestic eagles, the quarter-eladrin find himself drawn to the blue-grey avian named Wind-Dancer. "Patrols?" he asked as he bows before the great bird. His bow is trained, but stiff, his armor constricting him. "Is there another threat our Alliance faces?"

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia looks down the row of eagles, and her eye is quickly drawn to the majesty of Cuatemoc's appearance. She steps forward to him and bows deeply. "Hello Cuatemoc. I must compliment you on your plumage, it is stunning. I would be honored to ride with you, if you allow it." She straightens her posture, and grins at the bird while biting her lower lip.

[Meltheim]

All - [Valley near Rockhide Range]

Wind-Dancer bows her head and allows Hallowhiem to mount, shivering slightly at the touch of his cold plate armor on her feathers. Cuatemoc tilts his head to the side and looks into Damaia's eyes. A flicker of flame flashes in his own eyes and he appears to smile, before bowing his head and allowing her to hop on. Auklan barely has time to examine the birds before Andor walks over pecks at him. The massive eagle bows down to allow the Goliath a chance to get on, though it appears impatient.

The twin eagles remain next to each other, each staring at Throk and Roman. "Oh c'mon, let's get moving." Fix shouts, and the Ygritte shoots him a glare before walking over next to Roman. Wahweveh stares down Throk, demanding the formalities. Ukhozi squawks at him in a chiding fashion, and after a minute the coal-black eagle and the half-orc are ready to ride.

"Hold on tight - the feathers just here," Fix gestures to the group while shouting, "provide the best grip while limiting the impairment to your eagle. They won't fight, so if anything comes at us we'll do our best to descend somewhere safely. Ok, everyone ready?" After getting the go-ahead from the group, Fix leans down to Ukhozi and gives him a pat on the head. "Let's go!"

Ukhozi spreads his massive mottled-brown wings and gives them a flap, sending gusts of wind throughout the area. Two or three mighty thrusts and suddenly he is in the air, spiraling upward to get the proper altitude. One by one, the other eagles follow. Andor goes next, earning a glare from Wind-Dancer. His wings propel him upward instantly, his massive wingspan nearly 20 feet from tip to tip. Wind-Dancer shoots up like a rocket, graceful and quick, and nearly as large as Andor. The two of them race to the top, clearly competing.

Cuatemoc looks back at the twins and appears to sigh, before ascending. His movements might look lazy, but to the trained eye they appear to have the deliberate grace of a predator. The twins follow afterward, their movements synchronized, their forms appearing as a yin-yang as they ascend in their perfect spiral upward.

Once the group reaches the proper height, Ukhozi leads the way - though eagles do not generally fly together and certainly not in formation, the group takes on a rough vanguard and soars quickly through the sky. Fix tries to shout over his shoulder to the group, explaining the reason for a patrol and filling them in on the goings-on in the area since Hallowhiem, Throk and Roman were last in the area.

"The Firbolg have been stirred up, some have even found a way to cross through from the Feywild into the Natural realm. It's not much of an issue, but they rival the Goliaths in size and strength, and our mountain friends are not as available to help as they used to be. Some of the Terenuri have started showing up in random places too - mostly merchants but sometimes soldiers. Not sure if they are scouting or trying to make friends, but either way they are not used to the terrain or the creatures, and sometimes they get into trouble (or cause trouble, more likely). Mostly though, we're just making sure that the Primal Spirits know we are here and that we are friends, for we may need their help if all of these ill portents prove true. Between the portals in our mountain and the things you described, it seems as if something old and evil is trying to come here. Whether it is returning or just finding its way here for the first time . . . we don't know. But we know it's not as safe as it used to be."

The group flies over forests and streams, even circling around the Rockhide Range where a huge smoke column can be seen from the top of the mountain. Fix raises a spyglass to his eye and shouts to Auklan that it looks like his people are OK. They continue their patrol for another 20 minutes or so, covering a good 10 miles. A few times Ukhozi screeches and Fix investigates with his spyglass, but for the most part the trip is smooth and quiet, and possibly even relaxing.

[Dimers]

Roman - [On a massive white eagle]

Roman's solidity seems bouyed by contact, at least with his temporary mount. Still, he keeps his grip tight and focuses mostly on riding rather than the amazing vista below.


"Mostly though, we're just making sure that the Primal Spirits know we are here and that we are friends, for we may need their help if all of these ill portents prove true."

Shouting over the noise of air rushing past their heads, Roman cautions, "The Terenuri are allies but may not be friends. As a whole, they're -- we're oblivious to the primal Way. Still, allies, no question there, dedicated to repelling invaders to our shared world, and bold in striking."

[Shular]

Throk

Throk stares out, with something akin to terror in his eyes, as he rides on the soaring Wahwevah's back. He barely follows the shouted conversation between the others. This is not natural. Killer plants, fishmen, talking mountains, and now flying....nothing about this new continent is natural.

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia shouts to be heard over the rushing winds. "For the most part the settlers are good people. Sometimes they are misguided, and ignorant of the way that things should be in Oauhm, but the same can be said for most of us at times. They are right about one thing though. Our peoples are too fractured. There is a threat coming, and we must stand together to fight it back."

[Meltheim]

All - [Eagles Flying High]

"That is good to know! We had suspected as much, but it is always good to hear it from another whoaaaaaa." Fix's comment turns into a cry of alarm as Ukhozi pulls up short mid-air. Fix leans down to whisper something in the eagle's ear, but the bird seems to pay no attention to him. A few sharp screeches back to the others and he begins a spiraling descent.

In the few miles they've covered heading north, the terrain has already become wild and unfamiliar to the group, even to Auklan and Damaia. As the group lands, Ukhozi tosses his head wildly and screeches, obviously upset by something his sharp eyes saw on the horizon. The other eagles react similarly, and Fix does his best to determine what is the matter. Using his spyglass he looks across the horizon, seeing nothing but swampland and mossy trees. "I don't see anything - no idea what has him spooked. They won't fight, but usually they just turn around. Landing . . ." he holds his spyglass up and scans the skies. "Landing usually means there's something in the air that they don't want to . . . " he drops the spyglass as his mouth hangs agape.

Turning to the group, he shouts, "Wyrmbog!" A huge black shape darts down from the sky and plunges into the mire. The water and earth ripple around them before everything goes still. "I didn't realize we'd strayed off course. Quick, everyone. Mount up! We've got to go!" Fix does his best to shout a whisper, encouraging the group to get moving and on their way. He runs back to Ukhozi to get on when the ground next to him explodes in a muddy froth and a pair of black jaws snap around him, dragging him under into the swampland. Ukhozi instantly takes to the air, signaling the other eagles who follow immediately.

The party is alone, at the edge of a huge mire, apparently known as the Wyrmbog.

You've heard fairy stories of the Wyrmbog - a miles long stretch of swampland that is home to various creatures, large insects, and even tribes of lizardfolk and bullywug. It is something of the feywild, so something must be very wrong for it to have manifested in the Natural world.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Wyrmbog]

In shock and surprise, Hallowhiem draws his blade and readies his shield, turning so his back was to the group, ready to strike at anything that came his way.

[Dakaran]

Auklan curses loudly in his native tongue as he tightens his grip around the handle of his trusty maul. With a soft buzz and crack sound, the spiky head of the massive warhammer suddenly flare with bright yellow, almost-white lights as little flashes of lightning seem to flare from the weapon. "I hear many such stories of this place. If only few things true, we in much, much trouble."

Edit: I forgot to mention that my weapon has a at-will free action to make all of its damage lightning damage. That's what Auklan is doing.

[Dimers]

Roman -- [Wyrmbog]

Stunned for a precious moment by the complete suddenness of the violence, Roman then shudders and throws himself into action without a word. His now otherworldly body doesn't seem to be responding quite right, though; it looks like he's trying to swim, fly and dig like a badger simultaneously, as he approaches the spot where Fixisalumneirein was grabbed.

Not sure what kind of check is appropriate for finding big monsters and little gnomes under murky water while not precisely a physical creature :smalltongue: I'm thinking Perception or maybe an appropriate monster-knowledge check for locating, Athletics for getting me there.

Athletics: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]
If that Perception check should be Nature instead, subtract 3 ... if Dungeoneering, subtract 5.

Or you could also say "A head bobs to the surface in front of the panicked eladrin, bitten off at the neck with horrible force." Somethin' like that.

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Wyrmbog]

Damaia's reaction to the gnome's disappearance is much the same as Roman's, though with considerably less pointless flailing of limbs. She rushes through the swampy terrain toward the place the gnome was last seen. "FIX!" she shrieks out, hoping the gnome would somehow be able to respond. She uses one hand to draw her rapier, while the other moves aside some of the plantlife in search of the little gnome.


I guess I'll roll a [Nature or Perception]1d20+2[/roll]. Damaia isn't much good at either and her number is the same. If you need anything else, let me know.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk quickly unwinds his chain and stands motionless but ready to move, peering around for any sign of the monstrosity (dragon?) that snatched the gnome.

Perception: [roll0]

[Meltheim]

All - [Wyrmbog]

The surface of the swampland is still, save for a few bubbles. After a few seconds of heartpounding waiting, an arm bobs to the surface. In the hand is a strap, which leads to the gnome's shoulder bag.

[Dimers]

Roman - [Wyrmbog]

Looking horrified and disgusted, Roman inches closer to the severed limb. He squares his shoulders and grabs both the arm and the bag, then wades back to surface ground. "When we ..." He gulps and continues, "Get to somewhere safer, we should ... cut off the nails, or take a piece of bone. Some powerful resurrection magics can use such a small part of the body. And I have no ritual to keep the whole arm from ... decaying." He is the very picture of dismay.

"Friends, we should not be here, but I have no idea how to get away. If this is the same feral, magical bog I've heard of in lore, there are predators all around, and our choice is only to risk trouble moving or risk trouble staying in place. Does anyone have a guess about the lay of the land?"

Roman listens with half an ear as the others discuss, meanwhile setting up a brief ritual. He draws a compass rose in sparkling, colored sand on the patch of ground at his feet, murmurs words pleasing to Sehanine, and asks the air, "Which of these directions should we go?"

Hand Of Fate ritual (free 1/day) tells us the best risk-to-reward ratio among the 16 directions offered within the next hour of travel time. This is meaningless OOC if we don't even know where in the bog we stand, but it's certainly the right thing to do IC. Note that the ritual is limited to three questions, not three directions.

[Meltheim]

All - [Wyrmbog]

The gnome's lifeless hand twitches as Roman finishes the ritual. The fingers curl and point northward for a moment, then fall still. The motion inadvertently flicks the bag, causing its contents to spill out. The first is a long cylindrical case, the second is the very whistle that was used to call down the eagles.

edit: The whistle is a ritual focus used to cast the ritual Eagles Flight

Eagles' Flight is a 10th-level ritual.[Primal Power:157]

Up to eight giant eagle spirits appear to carry you and your allies. Each eagle can carry one Medium creature. The eagles have a fly speed and an overland flight speed determined by your Nature check.



Nature Check Result
Speed
Overland Flight


24 or lower
8
10


25–29
10
15


30–39
11
20


40 or higher
15
30


Creatures take a −4 penalty to attack rolls and defenses while carried by the eagles.

The eagles can't attack or affect other creatures in any way. The eagles' defenses are equal to yours, and if an eagle is hit by an attack, it descends to a solid surface to drop off the creature it carries, then flies away. Eagles who have flown away during combat can be called back as a standard action outside combat.

[dariathalon]

Damaia- [Wyrmbog]

Damaia climbs up onto one of the small patches of land surrounding the base of a tree. She takes a moment to wipe away the algae, mud, and other swamp muck. Some small part of her knows that trying to stay clean here will be pointless, but it doesn't stop her from trying.

"I've heard very little of this place. A few stories when I was a girl, but my tutors didn't spend much effort teaching about this sort of thing. We need to be on the lookout for big bugs and lizardmen and the like. Who really knows what could be here though, the feywild seems to have crossed over to our own world here. And when that happens weirdness usually ensues. Nothing so weird as Paddleston hopefully, but quite possibly just as dangerous. While I've heard some stories about this place, I can't say I have any idea how to get out of here safely. I've never been much of a naturalist. I guess we just pick a direction and start walking and keep on the lookout as we go," Damaia says with a shrug.

[Shular]

Throk

Throk shrugs and gestures towards the severed limb. "He...it?...pointed that way. It's as good a way as any."

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Wyrmbog]

Hallowhiem sheathing his blade, he picks up the dropped contents, and stows the whistle. Waving the long cylinder at some trees, "So, the moss in on that side of the tree, which means that way is North. So, if we head the way he was pointing, we should be heading in the right direction to reach our destination quickly, as the crow, er, eagle, flies, er, flew." Looking around, he shrugs at the party before taping the cylinder on his breastplate, "Paladin, remember? Corellon, God of Magic, Skill, and Wilderness. I may not always be the best, but I know the basics." Looking at Jirus, he turns the cylinder over and over in his hands. "But if we are in the Feywild, perhaps a native would be our best guide? Jirus, care to lead the way?" Looking down at the cylinder he's been gesturing with, he ponders at what it actually is, and attempts to open it.

[Meltheim]

All - [Wyrmbog]

With a satisfying *POP* the end of the case comes open, and Hallowhiem pulls out a tightly wrapped vellum scroll. Upon first examination, it appears blank. However, within a few seconds, faint lines appear to trace across the page. Slowly the shapes come into view, then colors and shading until finally, the Paladin is left holding a map.

Hallowhiem is able to easily recognize the terrain in front of him on the map, and it seems that the and the party are standing at the dead center. To the north appears some waterways, a few islands and lots of forested swampland. The words "Wyrmbog" are written on the area directly in front of him, while "Crystalhide" lies to the northwest and "Dragonmaw" to the northeast.


Map of Unseen Lands
Level 7 Rare
Unseen images glimmer within this mundane-looking sheet of vellum, which erupts with detail as it creates complex maps at your command.
Wondrous Item

Property
You gain a +2 item bonus to Nature checks and Perception checks to navigate through areas mapped by this item’s power.

Utility Power Daily (Standard Action)
Effect: You command the map to redraw itself, depicting the surface area in a 10-mile radius around you. The map doesn’t go into precise detail, but it is accurate. It shows only aboveground terrain, not underground areas. The map displays the following features.

General terrain, such as mountains, rivers, and lakes
Structures 5,000 square feet or larger in area
Structures important for travel, such as bridges and portals
Lairs of creatures that are significant threats
Names or general descriptions of any of the above features, if such information is well known within the area represented by the map.

The sketch remains on the map until this power is used again.

http://i.imgur.com/BZAkjeW.png

[Dimers]

Roman - [Wyrmbog]

Roman wraps the arm in bandages and settles it carefully into his carrysack. He traces a route on the wondrous map as he discusses his preference. "I had hoped we could avoid the most treacherous of the terrain and the more established predators by skirting the border between marsh and woods. But Sehanine's advice points right to the sucking center of the swamp. Well, we can't get through all this in an hour, and the ritual doesn't look so far ahead; let's follow the ritual's lead for now, then cut off here and head more east on the higher land if we've found nothing. That will take us most of the way through on good, eh, well, less awful terrain, and we can continue east or north from there. Dragonmaw we'll probably want to avoid if possible. The only humanoids that live in this land are bullywugs and lizardfolk, neither of which are likely to welcome outsiders."

The term 'lizardfolk' comes out fine in Elven, but Roman has to translate 'bullywug' as "stinkyfrogpeople" to make sure Auklan can understand past the language barrier.

I'm guessing our current terrain is the worst, darker is more solid underfoot than lighter, and going 3 hexes north will take at least an hour at our landbound rate. Based on that and the ritual's advice, I think 3 north, then 3 northeast, then 2 north, then 3 northeast to get out if we haven't found anything worth sticking around for. It cuts close to Dragonmaw but stays farther from the dragon marked in the middle.

We'll find out within about 2 hexes of travel if my assumption on coloring is wrong!

[Meltheim]

All - [Wyrmbog]

As the group moves northward, their boots instantly begin to sink into the muck. The footing is tenuous and in the deepest places, water comes up over the boots, soaking feet and stockings instantly. For Auklan, his added height means that he is only calf-deep. The rest of the group, unfortunately, is wading in at the knees.

A few steps into the terrain and the atmosphere appears to change. The air tingles with vibrancy and as colors, smells, and even the sounds of random wildlife - insects, birds, frogs and the like - appear more intense and real than previously.

Based on their position relative to the mountains, it would seem that the scale of the map is about 2 miles per hex. Based on the terrain, it would seem that the travel will be slow and deliberate to avoid getting lost or getting injured.

Skill Challenge (Special Feywild Swamp Edition)

Goal: Get out of the Wyrmbog by traveling to one of the northern edges of the map (A8, B8, C9, D9, etc.). The skill challenge will not end until this goal is reached.

http://i.imgur.com/4IDBlpq.png

DC: 15

Method: Using the hex numbers, you will each take turns making a skill check and declaring which hex you wish to move to. If you meet or exceed the DC, then you move in the direction you wish. If you fail, I will roll a D6 and you will move one hex in a direction based on the die roll.

1 = North
2 = Northeast
3 = Southeast
4 = South
5 = Southwest
6 = Northwest

As an example, say that you are on G4 and wish to move to G5. You fail the DC, and I roll a D6. The result is 3, so instead of moving to G5 you move to H3. I will update after each turn to indicate where the party's current position is on the map.

Note: If you land on one of the 'special' hexes (B6, G7, I10, L6) then something special will happen.

Skill Rules: As with other skill challenges, you can use an Action Point to reroll a failed check, and you cannot use the same skill you used on your previous turn or that the person before you used. Example: Roman uses Arcana on Turn 1. Hallowhiem follows him and must use something other than Arcana. On Roman's next turn, Roman must use something other than Arcana.

[Meltheim]

Skill Challenge - Turn 1

Party Position: G2

http://i.imgur.com/4IDBlpq.png
Current Player: Roman

Players Remaining (can go in any order)

Auklan
Damaia
Hallowhiem
Throk

[Dimers]

Roman - [trekking through the Wyrmbog]

Not one to waste magic power, Roman had quietly used his other two ritual questions for guidance beyond the initial direction. He knows the twelve classic Signs of Sehanine and the forms that reflect them in the mortal world. The hand of fate had told him at which Sign to stop and reconsider his path, then the direction to go from there.

That'd be a Religion check to correctly interpret information specific to Sehanine. [roll0]

EDIT: Er, going from G1 to G2.

He finds three trunks growing from a single root, twined around each other. Calling a halt briefly, he sees that if the heroes continued straight ahead, they would have walked out into an open area used as some giant flying beast's hunting grounds. The group skirts the area under cover and continues north ... safely, for the moment.

[Meltheim]

Skill Challenge - Turn 2

Party Position: G2

http://i.imgur.com/4IDBlpq.png
Current Player: Party

Players Remaining (can go in any order)

Auklan
Damaia
Hallowhiem
Throk


The rest of you can go now - pick a skill, pick a direction and roll!

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Wyrmbog]

As they hike through the muck of the swampland, Damaia wracks her brain trying to remember the few stories she heard of this place as a child. It isn't easy, it was so long ago, and it all seemed so inconsequential at the time. She never imagined she would end up here and have to make use of the knowledge, but still Damaia had a head for facts. There had to be something useful that she could dredge up. Then she saw it. A symbol carved into one of the trees. She remembered the image from one of the books her tutor had shown her while telling her about the place. It was used by locals in the area to mark safe trails (well, relatively safe trails) through the swamp. "Come on, there's a symbol here on this tree that I think shows we should be okay heading this way," Damaia says, pointing to the crude marking.


Alright. I'll try to move us to H2 with a History check. [roll0]

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Wyrmbog]

Trudging along in the swamp, covered in muck, stinking water filling his metal boots. Miserable, to say the least. Sword, slapping against his thigh. Shield, slapping against his thigh. Tankard, slapping against his... Taking it into his hand, Hallowhiem takes a long draw from the enchanted mug. Somehow, that Dwaven cup always had just what he needed in it.

Spirits lifted by the, spirits, Hallowhiem starts to sing as he marches. An old song they used to sing together comes pouring out of him. "I've roamed through all the nations
In delight of all creations,
And enjoyed a wee sensation
Where the company, did prove kind.
And when partin' was no pleasure,
I've drunk another measure
To the good friends that we treasure
For they always are in our mind."

Lets keep the party moving [roll0] to get us to I3.

[Shular]

Throk

Knowledge and inspiration are all well and good, but Throk know that strength of body will still be necessary. He pushes the way forward, struggling against the muck, and helping anyone who gets stuck.

Athletics to help with the physical demands of travelling through a swamp: [roll0]
Target hex I4 (or towards the ruins, if we're not already in I3).

[Dakaran]

As Auklan and his companions trudge through the swamplands, a low rumble shakes his body. Pausing for a moment, he looks down at his complaining stomach. Auklan finds himself chuckling at the ridiculousness of wading into a land fraught with peril and death, only to find himself now thinking about food. With food on the mind, his eyes dart around at the flora that surrounds him. He spots a type of hefty, rooty vines that he actually recognizes and his eyes follow its entwining mass northward. Ho! I know this thing! Do not touch, it may look docile, but has much danger. It can strangle many great beasts. It taste very good, but not worth trouble. If we try to follow along it, we should have safe path, at least safe as can find in this place.

Nature check to move to I5: [roll0]

[Meltheim]

Skill Challenge - Turn 6

Party Position: I5

http://i.imgur.com/4IDBlpq.png
Current Player: Party

Players Remaining (after Roman, you can go in any order)

Roman
Damaia
Hallowhiem
Throk
Auklan



So far nobody has missed a check! Great job team - sorry for the silence on my end.

[Dimers]

Trudging through muck sometimes hip-deep, tense with anxiety over the possibility of an ambush, never taking a straight path due to obstructions and dangers, the party of adventurers spirals toward exhaustion from their ordeal. But at every step, Roman Elanai is there to offer an untiring hand, haul an extra load, and inspire his friends to combat their own growing fatigue by refusing to give in to his. His presence is steadying.

Trying to move to J5. My Endurance roll: [/roll]d20+17[/roll]

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Wyrmbog]

Moving through the bog, Hallowhiem watches as Jirus moves. Careful footsteps, and avoiding particular areas as he goes, the native to the Feywild guides the party safely forward.

Move to J6, [roll0]

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Wyrmbog]

After what felt like an eternity of hiking through the difficult terrain, things took a turn for the worse. The way forward was blocked by a large lake of muddy water. The muddy floor of the lake bed was too thin and watery to stand on, and the group found themselves trying to swim forward more than walk. Damaia hadn't ever really had much opportunity to practice swimming, especially not in conditions like these, but she thought she'd be able to fall back on her natural athleticism to push forward. She was wrong. Not long into the swim, she found herself floundering, and was forced to swim towards the nearest shore. The others having little choice but to follow or become separated.

Using Athletics to swim forward into J7. [roll0]

[Meltheim]

Skill Challenge - Turn 9

Party Position: J5

http://i.imgur.com/4IDBlpq.png
Current Player: Party

Players Remaining


Throk
Auklan



Despite the group's general success in navigating the mire, stepping off of the islands and attempting to swim does not turn out as well as intended. The trees appear to shift position when not being directly observed, and Damaia's landmarks and references work against her. The group's progress is not only halted, but reversed, as they head south instead of north.

Moved South 1 hex instead of the intended North

[Dakaran]

Auklan steps out of the water and back onto dry(ish) land. Turning about, fatigue beginning to set in, he tries to get his bearings. While looking about, Auklan can see the fatigue in his compatriots as well. Curse this land!, Auklan thinks to himself. I will not let a downland, hell of muck defeat me! He closes his eyes, gathering himself, pulling into himself and shutting out the world for just a moment. His eyes pop back open and Auklan tightens his grip on his maul. To no one in particular, he says "Okay! We do this thing until it done doing!" With that, he spits into the water he just stepped out of and stomps off in the direction he believes to be north.

Using endurance. Power through this muck pile back to J6! [roll0]

[Shular]

Throk

Throk peers through the shadows, the low-light vision inherited from his orc heritage making this an easier task, he looks for an easier path, particularly any mounds rising above the water.

Perception check: [roll0]
If successful, move to K6.

[Dimers]

I guess I'm up next since the last two go-rounds have had Roman first ... no harm in making the next roll now, I can delete the post if necessary.

Roman - [Wyrmbog - skirting Dragonmaw]

As the travelers hit a wall of absolute exhaustion, they're forced to stop to find a safe place to rest for the dank, dark and dangerous night ahead. Though Hallowhiem is more experienced in woodlore (especially that of the fey lands), too much work remains for him alone, so the indefatiguable Roman finds himself searching for food and drinkable water and trying to interpret what would make good land for camping.

I'll take Nature for 400, Alex. Can't justify Arcana, much as I'd like to, and Shular just used Perception. [roll0]

Derp, forgot to mention direction -- I was intending to go north to K7.

With gods-given luck, he is able to find an acerbic but reviving plant root for everyone to chew, and the party makes comfortable progress northward before coming to a safe place to sit and wait.

[Meltheim]

Skill Challenge - Turn 11 (Round 3)

Party Position: K7

http://i.imgur.com/4IDBlpq.png
Current Player: Party

Players Remaining


Damaia
Hallowhiem
Throk
Auklan



The group appears to have a good understanding of the twistings and turnings of this dreadful swamp. Using their instincts more than their eyes, they are able to move forward at a decent pace. It is heading toward nightfall now, giving some indication to how many hours they have been trudging along.

Fantastic progress - kinda bummed there haven't been more misses!

[Dakaran]

As the sky starts to darken, Auklan begins to worry that the group may find themselves still stuck in this hellhole when night descends, which is a prospect of grave concern. Spotting an enormous old tree with a bounty of solid looking branches, Auklan decides that he will attempt to climb the tree and see if he can find his companions the quickest route to safety.

Rolling athletics to climb the tree! [roll0] If successful, let's go to L7. I think I'd rather try to keep us in the forest vs the swamp. Go team!
Edit: Ha! Of course I'd get a natural 20 when using my best skill...

[dariathalon]

Damaia - [Wyrmbog]

During the short rest while the group waited for Auklan to climb the tree, fatigue began to set in to the group. The day had been a long and hard march through difficult conditions, and by the time Auklan returned, people were in no mood to continue their hike. Damaia herself had settled down on a fallen log with her aching legs spread out before her. Auklan pointed out the trail he'd seen ahead, and the group very slowly began hauling themselves to their feet to follow it. While Damaia didn't feel much like moving either, she knew how necessary it was to keep their pace up until they were out of the swamp.

She hauled herself up and grabbed the bag she'd set down by her feet. "Come on everyone. We can't stop now. We've made it this far and I don't know about you, but the idea of spending a night tossing and turning in this mosquito infested swamp doesn't sound like much fun to me. To top that off, who wants to wake up tomorrow morning and still have more slogging through the mud ahead of us. Much better to just pull up our bootstraps now and get back to it. Yes, it's going to suck, but if we keep pushing forward and support each other along the way, I have no doubt we can make it out of here soon."


Let's try some [roll0] to give a little inspiration to keep at the difficult task.

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Wyrmbog]

Hearing Damaia's inspiring words, Hallowhiem digs into his bag of tricks. Sometimes, being a good diplomat means telling people what they want to hear, and sometimes, that means stretching the truth a bit. "She's right, we can do this. In fact, I think I know where we are. Why yes, I know this tree. My grandfather used to tell my a story when I was a boy, about how he used to travel through the wyrmbog, and he always used this tree as a guide to get out. Could see it from far away, and it's always near the edge. Yes, we go this way, and we should be home free."

[roll0] to get us out.

[Meltheim]

All - [Forest]

With a *crunch* Hallowhiem steps out of the humid bog and onto firmer ground. The sound of frogs and crickets and other swamp critters fades into the background as their new surroundings appear to settle into view. Almost as if pulling a curtain back, the group now finds themselves amongst tall evergreens and bristlecones instead of mossy willows and ferns. The ground is covered in snow and their breath huffs out in little clouds before their eyes. Turning back, there is no sign of swampland any longer.

The stars overhead are familiar, though by their position and the phase of the moon it would appear that the group spent far longer than a single day in the wyrmbog. Stomachs growl and exhaustion sets in as the weeks catch up all at once.

You survived!

[Dimers]

Roman - [Forest]

Roman breathes in deeply through his generously sized nose, sighing with satisfaction at the scent of spruce, moss and snow. "Your memory served you excellently, Sir Hallowhiem--" Then he doubles over with a gasp, his body seeming to waver. "Hunger! Gods, I'd think I feel sympathy for a ghoul with my hunger this consuming. Good thing there aren't any here -- I wouldn't care to test that out." He digs frantically into his travel pack with tired arms for any crumb of trail rations.

If I voiced a line like that in my old 3.5 group, "Good thing there aren't any here," it'd be met with a resounding chorus of "Don't give the DM ideas!"

[dariathalon]

Damaia

Damaia practically collapses against a large rock. "Spirits be with us, we're out! I don't know what I need more, a night's rest or a meal. What do you say we set up camp here? I don't know how much farther I can make it anyway. About the only thing that I think could make me crawl a few more feet would be a nice bath waiting for me. A nice fire spirit to warm the water... A little water spirit to bubble and churn the water..." A wistful expression crosses Damaia's face as she imagines it. "Scrub away the swamp muck and relax my aching muscles. I'd like nothing more." Her stomach rumbles audibly. "Okay, maybe I'd like a nice warm meal more, especially if it was fed to me by a handsome young man while I was bathing. Unfortunately, I suppose a warm bedroll and some trail rations will have to suffice."

[Tegu8788]

Hallowhiem and Jirus - [Forrest]

Hallowhiem slowly lowers himself against a tree until he is resting on the ground. He attempts to shift if weight, but his plate armor simply wasn't meant for any sort of comfort. The armor shimmers for a moment, rippling, and reforming, becoming scales that shift around his frame better. "Magic, it can fix many of our troubles, it seems. Which reminds me, another old friend's gift may aid us today." Unclasping the old tankard from his belt, he takes a long draw from it. "Liquid bread my friends, drink your fill and pass it around." Wiping the lip with his cape, he passes the enchanted dwarven tankard until the party has had their fill.