A0Ch1_The Big Bluff IC

[Charon23]

A0Ch1 Introduction:
The die is cast, and a perilous journey abroad looms over the young priestess. Eddies and wisps of cloud above in the night sky seem just as tangible as answers to the many swirling questions.

Would the townsfolk of Imdolnen celebrate so if they knew who they were to send on their behalf? Just what were the council's motives and what was Garren hiding? And how would the small fractures in the group stand against the trials ahead?
- reserved for temporary / external index

[Charon23]

Okay, well she's going to want to tell someone. At least she's going to want to write a letter in case someone finds it.

She'll approach Garren and ask for something. She just doesn't want to leave without knowing how long they'll be gone, when she'll see her family again. She'll use lines like "You can't take a child away from a mother and not give her an idea of when she'll see her child again. It's going to eat at her every day! Can you tell me anything?"

That will be before the briefings. She'll also ask about what gear they may need to acquire as she has some gold saved up and could scrounge about other things as well (her starting gold will both represent her actual gold savings as well as the items that she could procure).
Garren considers her pleas with crossed arms and closed eyes. His jaw clenches as he examines the earth below and it looks as though he is preparing for a stern retort. Instead two welling eyes flicker back to Altana before an uncharacteristic and humble response.
"I can't say I'm best pleased for how they're handling this. None of this feels right and I'm hardly convinced that we, that we ehmm. Well nevermind that. But it's..probably best they don't know, 'Ana. For their own sake. Maybe we can convince them to pass along some messages later on though? I'll try to get us back..in one piece." What surely would have been emphasized with a wink on any other day is instead finished with a somber sigh. The young man looks as though he has aged several years in the raking torchlight.

He still dodges Altana's questions about details of their mission.
---
Later on the group meets together to share their thoughts and fears. Much of the gear that each member suggests, or pines after, would be far too expensive. The following points are brought up:


It is best to pack light but Garren and Opal each plan to bring the magic haversacks passed down to them, with space left over for others.
Outfits more appropriate to the eastern lands will be provided. A rugged traveling outfit is recommended and you may wish to pack something a touch nicer to blend in in the cities.
Several of the members plan to stock up on one-shot items such as potions. Garren may attempt to secret away some doses of poison.
Heavier armor is a liability on a ship in the rough seas to the east. Plan on having a lighter backup or some other means of survival if you're tossed in the drink.
Pirates above and below the sea often attack with nets or bolos to disable their prey. Be sure to bring a spare blade or some means of escape.

Otherwise the dangers of your journey are still a mystery and the council has been tight lipped for now. There's a chance you could have the council purchase items on your behalf on the last two days, but the general response is some form of, "hope for the best and prepare for the worst."

[An Amy]

Altana

She purchases what she thinks is necessary. Not really having any experience on what to bring and not wanting to ask others for fear of giving away that she's leaving somewhere far. She equips a pack and makes sure she's got everything ready. Again... really not knowing where they were going but guessing it had to at least be by boat. Altana then scribes a letter. In it, she writes that she doesn't know where she's going or why. Just that they are going. And it's going to be rather secretive. No special attention. And that some who are going, no names mentioned, feel uneasy about it. She is going to serve and help as best as she can knowing that there are plenty of places in the world where there are those who cannot defend themselves. She just wishes that she could feel better about leaving. That those who love her know where she's going and why even if she doesn't. And so she's writing that letter. Secreting it away in an obscure place in her parent's home. In her old room where her youngest sister sleeps. One of the stones set into an outer wall is loose due to the fact that it has no pressure on it from other stones. Just beneath it in the floor is a small hollow. It's where she's put things secretly for a time. She smiles seeing an exotic nut's shell there as well from when she put it there years and years ago. But there's also a coin from a far off land. Something new. Someone else knows this spot.

And so in her letter goes... for now. Until the time when someone thinks to go back for a coin. Or to deposit something else rare and of little other value than novelty.

Then she waits.

[Charon23]

The next few days pass slowly and Altana's dreams are muddled with absurd combinations of memories from the past. While most are some flavor of silly or odd a few turn sublime when her friends and family fail to recognize her. Instead they dismiss her claims and argue, or even worse, dismiss her altogether.

Morning prayer and a strenuous routine set for each day come as a kind distraction. Blue Rock feigns their training sessions with mixed success. Poor sleep and a few extra fortified drinks make for sloppy sparring and more than a few bobbing heads. Discussion of lore from the east fills much of the down time. Trepidations and excitement bubble over the weariness of the group.

A spike in interest for stories of the night huntress leads to a series of invitations to Altana. The commoners' bows are a touch deeper and their greetings are more pronounced for the priestess. Others whisper gossip as she passes. Old acquaintances of both persuasions are eager to catch up with her.

[An Amy]

OOC

Since this is a solo thread, I can OOC right into it! Can you explain the last paragraph a little? You writing is great, but I'm a touch lost as to what all the last paragraph implied.

[Charon23]

OOC

Ahh, sure. I'd planned to explain further before I was pulled away. :smallredface:

Wheabemnaal is well known through much of Illyos. Anything to do with the goddess is the subject of gossip right now. There are several clerics of Wheabemnaal but not so many as to meet an upsurge in demand following the recent comet display. Some common folk just wish to pay their respects or ask for a blessing for (Altana's/Wheabemnaal's) protection. The superstition is that such priests or gods will rise to protect them from the undead or becoming undead themselves. Some claim the comet is a sign of their salvation while others dread a great spread of undead influence over the land. Others express more interest in the lore surrounding the goddess. Some well to do non-believers even host parties in her theme as to be fashionable. While Illian bards may be more adept at crafting a dramatic tale, a genuine priestess of Wheabemnaal is in particular demand to 'impart her wisdom in these troubled times.' So Altana receives seven to twenty invitations each day with their sources ranging from humble acquaintances offering a warm meal in exchange, to those delivered on fine parchment with practiced calligraphy.

Whether Altana takes part in these events it is clear that she 'enjoys' a degree of celebrity right now. The other Blue Rock members begin to tease her after they are each interrupted or dismissed by visitors.

[An Amy]

OOC
I see. It read a little like a fortune cookie ^^ I may be a little rusty on my Wheabemnallism though...

Altana
After the first few visitations to impart some Wheabemnaalistic wisdoms, Altana begins to feel tired of it. Sure the huntress is of interest especially when it comes to starts. Altana feels that stars... while pretty, do not predict the immediate futures. One can learn about the past by looking at them. Discerning courses of safe action from their configurations or activity... difficult at best. The future is too unsettled, unlike the stars that seem locked in their place in the night's sky. Better to predict the next rainfall's volume per jar than to see the future by looking into the past. One will find wisdom by learning from the mistakes of the past. The pitfalls and failings of old are the best tools to prepare for the future.

There's only so many times such things can be said. In truth, she had no idea what the comet meant. For her... her dreams were disturbing. Unpleasant things that she didn't want to connect in any way with the omen. Omens are nice...sounding perhaps, but, honestly, she isn't a superstitious type. It's best to lead people to learn from what the stars can tell them about the past than to think of what they might say about a future that is utterly unknowable. The star shooting across the sky is more of a herald, a reminder that one should not look to the future but to the pattern of a predictable past. Planning ahead based on what has happened before...

Oh even that grew too tiring to repeat again and again. Still... whispers being what they are, she sates as best as she can until she grows irritable at the sight of letters and invitations and interrupting yet hopeful attention gathering stares. If anything that comet is an omen foretelling her annoyance. She'd remember that next time there was a comet. Learn from this when it too is considered the past. The blessings she offers. But she more or less tries to remain out of sight. Wallowing slightly still in her forced silence over the impending mission beyond home's borders. Let Herosh deal with some more of it. He's a priest of the night huntress as well. Blood and ashes...

[Charon23]

Few people press Altana further and a couple become self-conscious and apologize for their interruptions. Surely she must be busy in such important times, 'may the light bless her on this day.' One such group carries intense expressions typical of mystics and take their leave with clear signs of disappointment.

..and the hours pass..

..and notes are stowed and prayers made..

..And the day of Blue Rock's sequester finally arrives.

[Charon23]

The early sky erupts in a kaleidoscope of colors to the east. A new coating of ice left from the night before lingers on the path ahead. It will take some time for the sun to crest the lowest walls, but the air already smells both sweet and acrid. The spring thaw gives way to new rot just as it does new growth.

Rattling of cook stoves and errant dog barks echo in the distance. The nearby city prepares for another day laboring in defiance of the harsh elements. Altana takes a narrow cliff side stairway with walls painted in red and gold light.

A series of monks line the stairs in the facing direction. Each pause their progress forward and balance on the ball of a foot out of deference to passing traffic. The vibrant color of their robes is paled by a thick coating of rock dust and smudges of ash.

A few greet Altana by name or title and a long bow of the head. A warm smile blooms on a face and she recognizes its owner as Maldwick. His crooked nose suggests a history of breaks from his various scuffles as a youth. How strange life is that the unfocused and brutish neighborhood bully now carries on with such peace.

Hevlod ((the Blue Rock cliffwalk-shifter and fighter)) attempts to mimic the monk pose while perched atop a carved stone banister above. If not for the differing garb the shifter could very well pass ((as a monk)). Instead he wears dull leathers with a camouflaged cloak marked in blue and orange grays. His graceful movement is accentuated by a playful dance of a mane of hair mottled with more blacks and grays and a wide streak of bronze.

He greets Altana with a wordless grunt followed by a rare side-hug. Together they pass from the narrow alley through a small cave-side market. Overlapping conversations persist and a few carts create a temporary roadblock but otherwise the pair's progress is unimpeded.

Another two lanes lead back out to a wider cliff-side path and the two join in to the procession of workers. A disguised Garren matches Hevlod's pace and attempts to filch a snack from his pocket but the shifter swats the human's hand away with a perturbed grunt. "Knock that off, you! I already told you that beard won't fool a blind man!" Garren snorts loudly with a stifled grin and mimes a maniacal double-fisted feeding. He strafes to Altana's side and makes as if to ruffle the woman's hair before giving her a gentle shove at the shoulder.

About fifteen minutes later the trio weave through a small hospitality district ((designated for travelers from other towns on Illyos)). Vaniatha's exotic beauty has attracted the attentions of a few young men along with several other folk on a wide stoop. She gestures boldly as she recounts one of her favorite stories and her small audience breaks into a bout of laughter.

When she glimpses the three her smile broadens even further--But a flicker of bitterness darkens her face and her brow creases. Altana cannot recall how many time the others have had to pull the maiden away from new found friends. In her mind she recalls the woman recite, "No dear, just one more" over and over. Sighs and some rushed farewells are exchanged and the aventi falls into step next to Hevlod.

The troupe passes the last bend to the clearing for the council's offices. An attendant tries to prod a snoozing Opal awake gently from her seated position next to the door. The half-giant bats away the human's attempts and nearly trips him while resettling her thick cloak around herself. The befuddled man gestures to the group in a pleading fashion before giving up to unlock the door.

Opal stifles a yawn and tames some tendrils of hair that look to be wandering away of their own volition. She fetches a steaming roll from a pouch and tosses it to Altana with a warm smile. "An extra from Blaird." Gerran begins to cat-call in jest, at the man's history of attentions toward Altana, before gasping in surprised pain. Vaniatha scratches her cheek innocently and directs an innocent looking wink at Altana.

[Charon23]

FYI--I'm a bit under the weather and expect to be in recovery mode over the weekend. I'll be posting bits of the imminent meeting and so forth as I'm able. Feel free to interject at any point in the sequence (at your leisure). Otherwise it will be a fairly long descriptive scene akin to the passages above.

-Charon

[Charon23]

The attendant grumbles under his breath and shuffles into the meeting hall to widen the hoods on continual flames around its perimeter. It is odd to see the room empty and in such shadow. Colored lenses on each sconce project patterns onto the walls and ceilings as the man makes progress in his endeavor. Lingering odors of incense and strong inks escape from within. Cushioned seats line a dais to either side and a large ring shaped table, with bench seating and gaps for traffic, fills the center. Carved and polished marble columns line the far wall with each gap leading to a door or hallway. Faint echoes of distant conversation seep from one of these.

Garren takes a moment to greet each other member at the entrance with an embrace and a firm pat on the shoulders. He takes a little more time with Hevlod and Vaniatha to speak in hushed tones and they each continue inside with a confused expression. His moods are so difficult to read these days but Altana can remember a sentimental facet of the man. What strange times.

Lastly he pulls Altana aside with a nonchalant tone. His words are smooth and comforting but his eyes burrow into hers with an unusual intensity. He pretends to scold her. "Hey, silly--You nearly forgot your bag. Please allow me to help you with it." He proceeds to latch a small tooled leather pouch to her waist and begins to talk about the weather. Before he finishes the last pull of strapping he glances the surroundings and moves in as if to hug her, then whispers as he cups a hand over her mouth. "Forgive me, priestess. Perhaps this is unnecessary but I cannot risk the alternative. Do not scream. Do not heal this with your prayers. Burn this memory into your mind. Will you do this?" He awaits her response, never breaking eye contact. Altana feels a mild irritation on her skin under the pouch as if she scraped it against a patch of brambles.

[An Amy]

Altana

The whole event was somber. The long walk through the town that strangely felt foreign to her. Even her friends seemed distant and false. When she reaches the council chambers, her unsettled emotions reach more confusing states. Each one of her friends like empty shells as well as their expressions and concerns are in completely different states. When Garren pulls her aside, he begins and obvious farce. She goes along with it until... it begins to feel uncomfortable. The bag. There is something in it. Or just something about it.

"Just don't make me regret," she replies while steeling herself against the mild but growing irritation. Then she looks for a similar pouch on any of the others. Or a sign of similar discomfort in her friend's expressions. What were they told? Why is she somehow... special?

What alternatives?

[Charon23]

The other two wear frowns of confusion but show no signs of pain or discomfort. They do have new pouches too but each bears different markings and coloration. Altana's bag registers as rather light with no apparent telegraphed form by way of its contents. Mechanically it is a Belt Pouch weighing a 1/2 lb.
Garren nearly rolls his eyes as he puffs his cheeks before exhaling with an exasperated look, then nods in acquiescence. Once the others have disappeared inside he whispers, "Here, bite down." He offers the side of his gloved hand and proceeds to press the pouch firmly against Altana's hip. He looks away in discomfort.

The pain grows and it feels as though a hundred barbs have found purchase in the sensitive flesh. After a few seconds the area feels both ice cold and magma hot while white pain leaps up the spine and down the limbs. The shock dulls Altana's vision for a spell and a mildly noxious odor dances around her nose. Several seconds pass but eventually the acute pain subsides, replaced with a numbness and raw blistering impression.

Garren backs away while practicing the nonchalant expression that has slipped off of his face. "Come on, we should head in, 'Ana." He speeds ahead into the compound, and echoes of his greetings spread into the courtyard that Altana finds herself alone in.

[Charon23]

When Altana enters the room specific details become cloudy and dreamlike. Her memory skips while trying to hold onto the events.

There was an important person.
..Or maybe it was a few of them who were impressive but there were many people for certain. But then there was the great surprise! Oh, it was fantastic and breathtaking! It must have been so hard for her family to wait in the wings without making a peep! There was a ceremony of leaving, of sorts anyhow. It wasn't as impressive as those she'd seen before but it was special to her nonetheless. Her little sister even embraced her, stepping on her feet to whisper a message. She'd found the note and shared it with her parents after all! Anecdotes and laughs were shared. Tears were shed and promises made.

The relatives were escorted out after too little time. It was important to see their acceptance. Everyone agreed that they would meet again one day soon.

Then the important people spoke some more. They spoke about Blue Rock..
..and their accomplishments. They talked about the group's bravery in dangerous times. Of course there was detailed discussion..
..surrounding a mission. Something about uncovered plans of enemy forces. Or maybe it was to uncover plans? Something about..
..an important artifact. They had to wait for further instruction though. That was especially important. Under no circumstance should any of them write down their purpose. There was talk of feigning interest in such things and they should pretend to be dungeon divers or scholars or..
..really anything that would help defeat the..
..bad stuff?

All of the members had questions and input of some sort. Altana lauded the plans and congratulated the people on their wisdom.

They spent the next day studying. And then there was a tour of the ship they were to take, deep in the cavernous harbors within the mountains. And then..
..they were on the ship and it was unbelievable how big the seas were. There were terrible storms but also days with calm seas. Over those games were played and raunchy jokes were told. There was the one about..
..
..and the stories were amazing. The sailors had wind-burned skin and muscles that their heavy coats could not hide. It was kind of odd how Garren was always in a cordial mood? And Hevlod seemed..
..a lot more talkative? But everyone got along swell. There was so much excitement about the travels ahead.

Fish unknown to Illyos were fished. Mer people outside of the Shul'Ghesh empire were met. They were odd, and kind of ill-mannered. Some nights were spent in port towns across the other lands. It sure was interesting to meet their odd peoples. Drinks were shared and the group learned more about the customs.

And they were in Aelot to resupply for a day, and then later in Yorder. They stayed clear of Yorder though..just entering for necessities and the like. And then..
..Then there was T'vessen, and then Krall, and then Soman, and then finally Quimgon. And that is where they landed after so many months of travel. What a journey! It was so frustrating when they all came down with a terrible illness! They were all bedridden and it took so long to find healing for their maladies. Eventually they were cured but it left them all with patches of missing memory. Curse Loamdibb and his evil powers!

[Charon23]

You remember standing at a port dock with your companions. There was a crowd of foreign people there, and a lot more halflings than you've ever seen in one place. Some of the buildings were small-sized while others had mezzanines and overlapping pathways for human folk. Everyone dressed a little bit lighter and their speech sounded a bit different, just as you were taught. The group tried their best to fit in despite their weakened state following the great episode of illnesses. You were finally ready to begin your quest, and made plans to reconvene after splitting up to gather local information. You decided to take a nap to rest away the residue of the late night before. You laid your head on a soft pillow, and fell into a peaceful sleep.

..Then your vision flickers and your closed eyes are nearly blinded by a warm light. You see the bright red of your eyelids and you seem to be deaf. Your face feels warm but the rest of you feels cold, or disembodied perhaps. The nearest sensation you can attribute this to is coming-to after nodding off at your studies with some 'pins and needles'. This is profoundly different.

You do feel groggy, but you can't truly feel or move anything beside your face and it seems like you are not breathing despite the air passing through your nose and mouth. There is no sound but for a high pitched whine as you've only heard in the most peaceful of chambers. It feels like you're encased in stone or the like. As your eyes crack open you witness a blurry shape in shadow hovering above you and you can make out another person behind them. Just a moment later you feel fingers dig gently around your face and it tugs oddly like a thick putty-like glue is wrenching your skin with each motion. A few spots near your jaw begin to burn painfully.

Suddenly your entire body drops an inch with a thud of wood and you see wisps of vapor-like eddies coming from around your head. Your hearing returns slowly with several loud pops as your ears adjust. There are muddied sounds of overlapping conversations from what seems to be around three to five people nearby. The strong binding feeling is removed but in exchange you feel thick clothing and an outer cloth-like binding around you like a cocoon. The source of pain subsides apart from a dull throb, dwarfed immediately by a resurgence of fresh pain on your hip ((from the belt pouch)). You smell the sea and wood and pitch and algae, and you hear waves breaking around you. These impressions somehow seem more real than the many months you spent on the ship. As you adjust to your new surroundings you feel your body heave up and down with the motion of a water craft.
Take two points of nonlethal damage between the two wounds.

[Charon23]

So hey. The timing to get to the milestone above is later in-real-life than I'd expected. I'll break down XP for your progress so far soon in order to illustrate how I've been awarding experience for social and backstory input. This is a convenient break-point to nudge things forward though (in anticipation of matching up to or near Solomon's XP shortly). Please go ahead and level Altana to Level 2 at your leisure, with no changes to gear. Roll HP in the OOC thread as PH7 did for Solomon (roll twice, keep the best, with an optional third roll that must be kept). Please let me know if you train any previously untrained skills, else I'll leave you to it. More on gold and equipment soon.

[An Amy]

Am I to understand that she was drugged the entire time and that things were pretty much "Wow... 'Ana's really trippin'" Like since she left? Or is it that after a while things were normal, she wasn't drugged, but now she can't remember what happened and things are all fuzzy? I'm assuming what happened in the council chambers regarding her family and her sister were all hallucinations. Then she gets whisked away and can't recall much of what's going on?

Also, she's now on a small boat or something and just got untied?

[Charon23]

Both could be viable assumptions with the information at hand, though any one source of the fog would be quite odd. As she 'wakes up' there are clear gaps in her memory and she is exhausted in a fashion that could be mundane weariness or a drug or poison or spell or who knows--but elements clearly don't add up to make complete sense from the information at hand.

Mundane amnesia seems unlikely. If she sustained a head wound or something maybe something rattled her mind loose but she's never heard of such a case.

Going back to the council meeting: A few items stand out as odd, including the surprise of the family. Hevlod has a slightly uncharacteristic change to be more outgoing (which extends into the trip). The group members are agreeable to the plans despite Altana's inability to recall specifics that they would certainly require to be so pliable--with their last known chance to seek council. She only recalls faces in the room that she'd met previously. That is not odd in itself but there is the lasting impression that others joined in but she can't remember any of them. Or faces skip in and out like her mind is trying them on for size. Is she putting the faces of people she's known in falsely just like the others?

The voyage is decidedly vague. She doesn't recall any follow-up from Garren and her emotions are conflicted between (what you would place them at) and a vague sense of comradery that seems a bit forced. Perhaps they smoothed things over?

A blackout night of ale would still probably include some ancillary details that are missing from the weeks-long voyage. The taste of new food. A turn of phrase or song that is sung unconsciously in a stupor. Like the faces in the council room it seems like any specifics she attempts to conjure are fleeting and slippery.

Presumably there are addictive drugs that can cause memory loss and odd behavior. Were they all drugged? She doesn't remember taking anything voluntarily, even under the compulsions that such addiction could spur.

Magic could fit the bill but nothing of this sort is known to her. There are telepaths and mentalist-leaning mages on Illyos with some power to manipulate minds. She's never heard of something that would account for all of the oddities at once, and for such a long duration.
--
I do apologize for the heavy-handed nature of the reveal--both mechanically and emotionally/psychologically. I assume it may not be inherently rewarding now but I do hope that it can be in hindsight with more context. Please let me know if you do have specific objections though from a meta perspective and I will try to adjust course accordingly.

[An Amy]

No objections. I'm just trying not to misunderstand and run off with something. I have a tendency both as a player and a DM to run off with something a player/DM said and then being corrected and having to back-out a chunk of stuff. You wrote the whole fuzzy-headedness really well. A lot of shakes of the head and grasping of hair and o.O? expressions culminating in "I think I'm drunk." Will write up a reply shortly. I've leveled her to 2. For my extra feat I ended up with Travel Devotion. It's another 1/day, 1/turn ability to get a swift action movement which sounds rather sick. Like... wow. I don't know why I didn't see around it. Everyone always talks about divine metamagic, but that's way too feat intensive for me. I don't like that kind of cheese. But Travel devotion is... rather cheese itself... Looking into additional spells as well. Would you allow sanctified spells from Exalted Deeds or Hallowed Might?

[Charon23]

No objections. I'm just trying not to misunderstand and run off with something. I have a tendency both as a player and a DM to run off with something a player/DM said and then being corrected and having to back-out a chunk of stuff.
Gotcha, and I feel I have the same tendency at times. I feel wretched when I drop the ball by forgetting important details on top of that too. Additionally I add some wiggle room for 'unreliable narrator' elements. The line between those (sources of potential obfuscation) and the nature of the magical fantasy setting can get confusing all around. So, let's continue to keep the communication open and give benefits of doubts and things. Thanks for being awesome on the disclosure front!


You wrote the whole fuzzy-headedness really well. A lot of shakes of the head and grasping of hair and o.O? expressions culminating in "I think I'm drunk." Will write up a reply shortly.
Thank you! :smallsmile:


I've leveled her to 2. For my extra feat I ended up with Travel Devotion. It's another 1/day, 1/turn ability to get a swift action movement which sounds rather sick. Like... wow. I don't know why I didn't see around it. Everyone always talks about divine metamagic, but that's way too feat intensive for me. I don't like that kind of cheese. But Travel devotion is... rather cheese itself...
Okay, that works. In a lower powered game I'd probably up the requirements for those a touch to delay access (with cheese potential and balance in mind) but for this it's fine. PC's will be disproportionately powerful at lower levels on purpose and those (domain feats) even out at later levels.
Also--The web source I pulled up has Travel Devotion at [1/day + 1 per two turn attempts]? Does that gel?


Looking into additional spells as well. Would you allow sanctified spells from Exalted Deeds or Hallowed Might?
Hold off for now and I'll add a note to reread them. I'll admit I've mostly skimmed those or used bits very long ago. It's definitely not an outright 'no', but some of those ruleset-expansion-heavy titles kind of make me glaze over, particularly in sections that seem half-baked. Some of them may skew out of world flavor but I may be thinking of something else.

My inclination by fuzzy memory is that such a classification of spells would work well as unlockable here. I've been using that mechanic a lot (i.e. spells, relic or legendary items, certain bonus abilities, etc.). Eventually those should add up to shape the world's impression of the 'heroic stature' of the PC's, whether in battle or scholarly exploit or whatever else. So, semi-restricted but I'll try to help nudge you to anything that you devote your energies toward, and advise if something is highly unlikely.

[An Amy]

Altana
The events swirl in her head like a dream she is waking from. Colors have a weight to them. A flavor when in dreams. But these are more than just memories of a sleeping, unconscious soul. These are... real. These happened? Or did they? Or is she imagining the cloudy images? No, they happened. No, they couldn't. They were too... unreasonable. Impossible. They are too tangible. Can she remember the embraces? The warmth of various foods and fires? The spray of the sea? The embraces of her family? Can she remember the pride in the small ceremony?

No. They're starting to fade, but something else is becoming far more aware. She's on a boat. She was just previously bound and is now no longer. She coughs and tries to sit up. Tries to call out, but all that escapes her lips are incoherent mumbling. Not yet regaining control of her facilities. Or faculties. Or fallacies...

"Where am I?" she tries to ask. Oh, pray these are friendly people. She could imagine being thrown overboard while tied to a rock.

[Charon23]

I tracked down 'Exalted' and found the other [Sanctified] in 'Champions of Valor'. Some may still be off-flavor for Altana but several would be on the nose and very cool. I'm intrigued but need to hash out a few elements:

Firstly I read these as more pertinent to a 'Favored Soul' approach to priests and holy warriors. That is, I'd be inclined to offer the option to cleric PC's and NPC's-to-a-lesser-extent, but regardless they rely on a more 'pure/direct' connection to a godly source than typical cleric/druid/ranger spells (despite the non-arcane, non-divine fluff). Also, the Favored Soul class would be extraordinarily rare in this setting. Perhaps that could change a bit as Altana explores but the point is it is unlikely that it would start raining super special NPC's that dwarf Altana's ability in this manner.

That leads to a status situation (between the individual and the deity). Since sacrifice components already entail a cost it seems like Augury would make for a good alternative means to point a cleric toward finding favor or staying in favor. If you're 'out of favor' then you cannot cast such spells at all or benefit from potions, etc.. So Augury is not mandatory nor should you need to spam it endlessly to lead to anything--But it could help resolve a lot of the mechanics I'm pulling out of the air. :smallwink:

Similarly to Augury, I see Geas text as possible guidelines to help provide active feedback despite being vague. Kind of like a poor means of classical conditioning (i.e. Pavlov's dog) where the bell doesn't ring at every feeding. Seeking favor is like striking a deal and the gods expect devotion uncommon to most mortals in such trades. Unlike Faerun they are not known to walk the mortal lands, and few if any speak plainly to common heroes. Such a bond is extremely potent and prestigious. As such, 'backing out of the deal' by diverging from the god's will imposes a minor penalty of some sort. No, I don't think it should be as severe as the worst Geas maladies but even pure fluff would help give you an idea if you've gone astray.

Finally I'd set specifics for the mechanics (that others are using differently on the webs):

The sacrifice component is not exacted until the spell terminates but it is offered up like an ante. No mortal means other than perhaps Wish and the like, could circumvent the loss of the sacrifice. Alternatively, knowingly casting a spell and not 'paying the sacrifice' via an immunity would cut off the deity's favor immediately.
The text is poorly worded in the passage for clerics spontaneously casting. They aren't Reserve Feat abilities and casting takes up a normal slot just as typical spontaneous healing does. I still haven't ruled on Reserve feats but am inclined to restrict those anyhow.
Lastly, I see some have interpreted all sacrificial effects as permanent. I don't see that as the intention of the semantics nor would I impose such a penalty. Ability damage heals normally over days or nights of rest and or magic healing, and so forth.

So for the what'th time I feel like I'm handing down a 'nerf hammer' to you? I think this could be nifty though, so if I'm in the ballpark of what you'd find worthwhile then let me know and we can tinker more. If the restrictions are wholly off of what you were thinking then I'd still consider a compromise to allow a more limited selection of such spells.
Gotta run for now so I'll have to hold off on the IC response.

[An Amy]

Book of Hallowed might and Sanctified spells
BoHM has some broken spells in it. There's a 1st level cleric spell that will magically transport your armor to you up to a mile so you can wear it immediately. That's rather unbalanced and silly, imo. Others, however, aren't bad. One is called Hygiene. Basically it makes you fit for fine company, cleans you up, and gives you a +1 bonus against diseases for the rest of the day. It's more fluff than anything. Clerics don't have prestidigitation, so that's a magical way to clean up after a night in a tavern.

Another is called Blissful Sleep. 1st level, makes you immune to nightmare and means you can sleep under almost any conditions.
Quick Boost is a little potent for a 0th level spell. You get a +2 to a Str Dex or Con for 1d4 rounds. It's a shorter duration then the 2nd level spells and a smaller amount.
Quick Sober is, just as you expect, a 0th level spell to end drunkenness. Something Altana might enjoy.

Several others are just broken. It's a lot like Book of Eldritch Might. Some of those arcane spells are just way too powerful. Anti-magic chains is a touch-attack save and grapple or die. Hideously overpowered, that one.

As for Sanctified spells, one of the ones I thought of is Luminous Armor, Divine Inspiration. I've never ruled them as permanent damage. The spells are not that good for that. There are some pretty potent ones that have a whole character level as the sacrifice or even the caster's life, but those are higher level. As for the spontaneous offering, that could be done without but Luminous Armor is a good "I'm caught without my armor." Also, if Altana ever gets a monk's belt, she might start using things like Luminous Armor to supplement her armor.

[Charon23]

A chorus of audible gasps surround you as your dry throat breaks a silence. A disembodied female voice pipes up in a quizzical tone. "Well you're in a box, I'd say!" When you try to sit up the material around you fights the attempt and you hear a few, "thwfffg" sounds as a few tears of weak fabrics break open. The sensation is much like being stuck under layers of blankets that are tucked well under your body but they seem to be giving way with your effort. Surrounding your immediate view are dark boards of some kind and stray bits of dry grass-like packing. Your legs land against the sides further down and the partially-opened structure seems to surround you like a large coffin. You only feel the breeze pass against your face and clothed chest.

Your vision begins to sharpen and you can make out features of the middle-aged man looming over you surrounded by a halo of sunlight. He has a scruffy beard and is balding with deep pocks on his cheeks. His squinted eyes leave the impression of crow's-feet that seem to be waging a war against his other lumpy features. He turns his head vaguely back to the source of the words and replies with a cracked voice of annoyance. "Shush, you!"

Just then a black bird lands right above your head, finding a perch on some splintered wood jutting from just beside you. It flashes its wings and tilts its head close to yours with an intent look before the man shoos it away with an annoyed gesture. "And shush, you too!", generally towards the bird. Defiant squawks pierce your ears as it settles a couple feet away.

A running monologue in the background continues in a whiny mumble. "Well she is in a box. Who puts pretty ladies in boxes..with the mirror's on the wrong way!?..."

The second nearest figure looks to be a male shifter. He tilts a head with a mane of wet peppered hair that is tied back with decorative beads. He appears to be younger than the other man but his rugged skin defies a confident guess of his age. He wears a sleek form-fitting grayish suit that also glistens with water. He braces against the haft of a short trident while gazing at you suspiciously. He clears his throat with a deep grunt and offers matter-of-fact, "Where is it you expect to be, woman?"

[An Amy]

"On a bed," she replies with a desiccated voice, "or bedroll... or tavern floor. Not in a box. Not in a boat. Not with a fox... nor with a goat."

Trying to move her limbs further, she pushes out with arms and legs and feels the wrapping still binding her though weakly. She is weaker still at this point. Stomach immediately telling her she's hungry. Throat desperate for any moisture. She wants to sit up... but has a feeling she's not meant to. Or... rather, if she isn't meant to then she'll be quickly restrained again. Might as well stay down. Wait things out at this point. If she was wanted dead, it would be so already. So... her life means something. Somehow, even if just a little. And she's not in chains... though she is in a box. Maybe she was assumed dead... maybe they thought they'd killed her and will nonchalantly rectify the misunderstanding shortly. At least the female voice sounded sarcastic enough. That's a touch comforting. A personality she could already relate to.

"Am I a prisoner?"

[Charon23]

The peanut gallery continues in the background, incredulously, "Is she hiding a goat in there!? We used to have goats! Ohh, I could make up a nice sauce, mmm'Mmm!..."
Another male voice out of view cuts in with a concerned tone, "She's a loon! Cut'r loose before we get to--" He's cut off by both of the nearest men's loud hisses but not before several cries of agreement are mixed with a few errant claims on your behalf. It sounds mostly of men but there are a few female voices represented. The two nearest men glare toward the voices until they quiet down.

They exchange glances and the elder of the two waves off the shifter's low groan. To you he replies, "Ehrm, Not as such..to either point, but..best we have a chat here if you will grant us this caution?" He mimes for someone out of view to retrieve a drink. "Let us start with your name, if you please."

A new figure approaches the man from the side while actively avoiding eye contact with you. He is a male goblin in a coat riddled with small crude-looking buttons and pouches. He whispers a message into the man's ear, just out of your grasp to decipher.

[An Amy]

Altana

She shakes her head briefly at being called a loon of sorts. The woman was the fox. The shifter was the goat. Though, in hindsight, it is probably best the half-man didn't make the connection. Could be more awkward... And then there's more voices. More than what she can see. Must be a much larger boat than she thought previously. Yep. Okay... so her name. She is no good at lying. Not that she was going to attempt. But should she say anything about Illyos? Or her mission? What is her mission, anyway? Where are her friends? Think of the present. No use worrying about others if she has no idea where or in what condition she truly is. She feels a bit like a package.

"Altana," she answers the older man with the goblinkin ally. Or lackey? Or... friend? Hard to imagine that last one. But these are strange lands. "Priestess of Wheabemnaal. And yourself?"

[Charon23]

The rambling voice is joined by another and the speech becomes dampened by distance. You hear faint overlapping conversations bloom and fade as a squeaky hatch opens and closes, some fifteen feet away. You see a different and larger bird glide far up in the sky, buffeted by sporadic winds.

A human woman appears as the goblin shuffles away. She has deep olive skin and dark hair that pours out with sun-bleached highlights from a scarf of some sort. Sharp almond eyes glance down at you with a bemused crease of the lips. She wears a bright red-orange blouse that ripples in the breeze, along with a vest, loose trousers to the calf, a rapier, and a few sheathed daggers. She hovers between you and the older man for a moment before he gives a lazy wave of permission. The woman presses her free palm against her partially-exposed upper chest and tilts her head toward you with eyes closed, in a sign of peace. Then she bends down over you and produces a water skin and proceeds to help you drink. She hums a rudderless melody.

While she does this the man squints even harder and replies in a more diplomatic tone, "Captain Melpruit, at your, ehh, service as it were. Pleased to make your acquaintance, lady Altana. Ehm, And where does a 'Priest of Wheabemnaal' call home? I admit I do not place the name or the lilt on your tongue?" He mimics your pronunciation of the deity expertly but with a hint of emphasis suggesting a writ to memory.

You hear the goblin again near the shifter and they exchange a hushed yet mildly combative series of phrases. The shifter speaks over the last sentence from the captain in a stern voice with an edge of anxiety. "It is well past time, Pan. One more from the south. Ditch'er or keep her--We best watch our own hides."

The man nods his head and rises back to his feet but keeps his eyes to yours and awaits a response. The dark bird reemerges on the other side, opening and closing its beak silently as it eyes you. To this the man does not protest.

[An Amy]

Altana

Well... there's no use hiding her origins. Unless it might jeopardize her mission. Though, she doesn't even know her mission. If there ever was one. In a way, she feels she could have been sold. For all she knows... which is little to nothing. Her memories have so many holes in them they'd not catch wind or water. And of the memories she can recall, she doesn't seem to trust them. Something was wrong about them. Still, for the present, she was given water, which she lapped up all too eagerly. The liquid warm from the sun but so blessedly moist. Invigorating even. It hurt to swallow. Telling her how long she'd been without such things. She shakes her head as an ache appears. Twisting her expression momentarily in a brief pain as she squints up at the man.

"Good meet yeh, then," she replies to him. "I'm from... well, uh, I'm from... let's say it's somewhere people may not understand. No, that's not right... prejudices? I don't know. I'm supposed to have been doing something but, blood and ashes, I can't remember. I feel I'm twelve cups to the table and a pole too short for dancing."

[Charon23]

The captain tips his chin upward and scratches its scruff with a mild skeptical cast to his face. "Indeed. You're a puzzle you are, and I've not more time to reconcile its pieces." He gives a clear order to the shifter, "Let us part then. To the hold, there is one clear, yes? And two..three guards if'ye can spare a rower." He returns his attention back to you with a not-unkindly tone. "Pardon this inconvenience and we'll give you no harm. Try to escape or cause trouble and you shall find your insides on the out." It is clear that he is accustomed to barking orders as the threatening words present in such a direct yet almost nonchalant fashion. He awaits your response but shifts as if readying to leave. The bird flies to his extended arm and you see a few shadows arrive around your periphery. You can make out a thick clothed bag and lengths of rope and a few men's faces peek over the boards down to you with patient expressions.

From at least ten feet away you hear overlapping shouts and orders, and an even larger chorus of men's voices ring out in a pattern of rowing maneuvers. The bobbing ship deck begins to pitch slightly. Despite your newfound sea legs from.. ..from the journey.. you feel as though you'd risk a fall if standing up in your current state. Your mind swims weakly for a spell. Wood creaks and you begin to hone in better on your localized position. By your estimation you're on one of the far ends of a deck of a considerable ship--perhaps nearing the size of that which you've spent so much time. But you seem to be on a deck lower to the sea, and whether at the bow or stern, a large complement of rowers must be seated at its core.

[An Amy]

Altana

"Wait... please, can you tell me what happened? Or what's going on?" She's not begging, but near it. Really, she does want to know what's happened to her. Why is she in a box? How did she get on this ship? Who are they? Where are her friends? How far are they all from Illyos? She can't even remember the last place they were supposedly. Oh, it was a mess. It still is a mess. And she doesn't really know how much of a mess it is. And then there's this pirate captain, yep pirates, that's what she's going with, and he's threatening to gut her if she causes problems. Well, what's a problem? Trying to escape? Didn't he just say she wasn't a prisoner? "I'm not going to try escaping. I... don't think I could get far if we're off to sea. I'm a priestess... watch the stars for portents. Or at least people seem to think that's what I do. Doesn't really work like that, but... no, I won't cause trouble. Is there a reason I might be a problem I don't know of right now?"

[Charon23]

The captain stamps his foot in mild exasperation and mutters to himself with a hand to his temple, "You'n me the same, lady." He interjects a few shouts to his crew. Then to you he takes on a fast clipped speech laced with sarcastic honey. "You may be as ye state, dear. Where should be my goods has none and for all known you're all but a sprung noose on this neck. Meantime I don't know your like nor does the.. 'silver' you were 'napping' in speak to a common farmer's wife. As may *not* be news to you, we have ships on our bearing and I don't reckon they seek to trade provisions. What bond have you that I should trust your good will in such circumstance?"

[An Amy]

Altana
Silver? A common farmer's wife? She doesn't entirely follow his words, but she feels she should be offended. But... no, calm down. There's no point in getting cross with someone that could have her put over the rails. But... it sounded like he didn't know who she was. Or that she was even in the box or crate or whatever to begin with.

"You didn't know I was in here?" she asks. Brows knit together a she thinks of what that means. "That would put us under the same tree, if that is so. I- I don't have anything to speak to my character except my own words and future actions. If you provide me with my holy symbol, I can call on my goddess's blessings for you. Other than that, I can only prove myself to you by... doing as asked, I suppose."

She doesn't know if she should be frightened or not. He'd already threatened to gut her if she was trouble. Or if she tried to escape. But if she wasn't expected... and wasn't taken on purpose, then why do they have any desire to keep her at all? All those comments of cutting her loose suddenly make sense. As in putting her over the rail. She's an unexpected complication. A complication that could be solved by tossing her to the side. Alive or dead. And there is no guarantee that those that follow or pursue this vessel are going to be any more hospitable.

[Charon23]

Captain Malpruit grumbles but seems to give in to some inner musings. "Ought I have? No, no. Had I guessed you in this..vessel, I would not venture you still bear breath of life also. By all signs you were a sculpture or a corpse. I only intended to sort that issue when I cleared that..sticky silver..stuff from you. Is that..Is that customary of the bed you make..in your land?"

He gestures to the men nearest you and they begin to pry at the remainder of the box-like structure. The vault is not like any coffin you know but is of beautiful dark-stained wood with no ornamentation to speak of. Back home some would mourn the destruction of such fine craft. The thick material gives way following considerable effort, with incredible creaks and pops, all of which return to you in a chorus of deafening echoes. Your newly widened view reveals more breadth to your immediate surroundings and much of the shadows are mitigated. It appears you've been sewn into some kind of coarse fabric..sack?. You see ragged ends around your head and shoulders, and feel signs of cool air through rips near your legs. The dry grassy material rustles gently as your limbs shift about. Your outer layer is an embroidered tunic in a floral and creeper-foliage motif of blues and greens. At least one layer of warm, almost padded, undergarments is placed between you and the tunic and some kind of trousers. The result is an outfit far lighter than customary for Illyos but modest nonetheless. A ghostly memory bubbles forth--Some of the natives from Quimgon favored patterns like these. Your armor is removed but you still wear the seashell amulet. As you are freed of the vestiges of the course layer your mobility is improved significantly. There is the boom of a crane overhead and several thick ropes are tied off from it to chest-high pylons. Tilting your head reveals ship rails and a sky of blue that dominates the scene beyond. You can make out rocky cliff side made nearly the same blue by what must be several miles of distance. A few more sea birds soar high above.

[An Amy]

So, she was dressed up all pretty like, painted like a statue and put in an ornate container? The dried grass acting like packing material then. Is that about right? So... is she fully unwrapped and can sit up? Does she still have the silver stuff on her? Because she's going to look at her hands and what not.

[Charon23]

So, she was dressed up all pretty like, painted like a statue and put in an ornate container? The dried grass acting like packing material then. Is that about right? So... is she fully unwrapped and can sit up? Does she still have the silver stuff on her? Because she's going to look at her hands and what not.
Yup. There isn't much grass immediately under her (thus part of the thudding sensation earlier on). Instead it was focused around either side but now spills away freely in self-contained clumps. She can sit up. She is pointed away from the center of the ship but can look around.

The short answer to that is that it looks like a big boat. :smallwink: Its shape is mostly that of a longship with columns of rowing benches through the center and a large central mast, with a square sail currently hoisted out of the wind. Apart from the large crane and boom she can see some hatch doors to cabins leading deeper into the ship, and she must be on a deck just above such holds by estimation of the similar portals far across the way. There are a few ballistae mounted throughout. The crew is primarily of human men but shifters, goblins, and a few other races make up the rest. About a quarter of the crew are female.

The length of wood under her from the 'box' extends below her feet, however, and there is large bundle of bound cloth with strange geometric patterns of a few cubic feet (newly revealed by the recent excavation and removal of more grass). Sateen ropes loop around this and silvery rings weave through knots to make a netting of sorts that is possibly decorative in addition to its utility.

There is no sign of anything sticky or silvery on her, nor is she painted. That is with the exception of some vine-like tattoos that extend to her forearm past the three-quarter sleeve. Maybe there's a vague..memory of acquiring these..but somehow they seem almost substantial as if they are made of thicker inks.

[An Amy]

Altana

Sitting up and getting a view of the ship, crew and scene, her eyes simply drink in the surroundings. It's a touch surreal and unbelievable. But it's too... there. To real. To crisp and hard and present for her to be still in one of those dreams that will soon turn to waif of smoke in substance.

"No, it's not," she replies to the man and looks down at herself in the... different clothes she's in. She doens't have a word to describe what she's wearing exactly. Or that bundle at her feet. "These aren't my clothes either."

The tattoo... it's... larger? Vegetation was alway something strained back in Illyos - a concept such as "back in Illyos" also a very foreign thing. She loves various flowers and ivys and wanted her tattoo to be reminiscent of the exotic plants paints and spoken about and brought back home for a of coin. But now? It looks... like it has more to it. Like it's more than

[Charon23]

The captain runs a palm down his face and his nose with the reverse side with a loud sniffle. "A puzzle for another time, and that which may be scarce by the look of things. Tell me now plain what use you are if this comes to a fight. If none then you'd best take to the shelter of the hold. I swear a rightful oath that I've no ill motive toward ye' if ye' swear as not to be..ehh, a living-dead witch or the like. The more vile on these waters would prize a comely lass such as yourself."
She is somewhat weary and still has a mild head fog but she feels fit otherwise.

[An Amy]

Altana

"Comely lass?" she repeats with a bit of disdain on her tone. Perhaps a bit much. Maybe. "They'll find my fist or the nearest weapon I can get a hold of so far down their throats they could plow fields. And a living-dead witch? I'm a priestess of Wheabemnaal! I can scatter the undead before me if'n they dinnae fall to ash first. You've a shield in need of carrying? A vile foe in need of righteous justice? I help people who need it. In a battle, in a healer's tent and the like. I'm not sure what this... style of dress I'm wearing is, but I last had on chain with a shield in one hand and a morning star in the other."

She crosses her arms. Incredulous. "I'll prize them a comely..." she grumbles.

[Charon23]

His mouth works for a moment and his brow raises in a fleeting look of surprise before he booms an order to the nearby men. "Well so to a shield and a weapon for the comely lass! And maybe just that ye' can fetch a vile foe for her quashing while yer to it!" The men break out in unrestrained laughter but they beam at you with smiles of admiration and one offers a kind wink and a clap on the shoulder. Another extends an arm to help you to your feet. The captain shuffles away to attend to other business at hand.

The land mass witnessed previously looks to be a smallish island--though it may be peninsular with how thick the haze is in the distance. Jutting rock and even smaller islands speckle the view to either side forming a colonnade avenue of sea. A few smaller ships can be seen far away with bows angled to collision courses with your own. The slow chase makes such a clash seem imminent but it will still take a matter of minutes for them to be in even projectile range.
--
The men accompanying Altana do not seek to restrain her and instead see to some basic supplies. They ask her preference regarding shields and weapons from their limited surplus. Among these are metal and wooden bucklers and light shields, and a crossbow, quarterstaff, scimitar, trident, and an array of smaller blades and reach weapons. Others begin to clear the rubble from the box and one approaches her cautiously asking if the bundle could be stowed out of the way.

[An Amy]

Altana

She takes the hands offered to help her rise. Finally standing, a bit unstable at first, she looks down completely at what she is wearing. Despite being objectively... pretty, she has to fight away the disgust that someone put it on her. It's appearance is marred by the situation she found herself. She tries to put it out of her mind for now. There is a type of slow haste - if that makes any sense to her - with regards to the ships incoming upon their own vessel. An urgency seeing it all incoming. Like watching a storm fast approach.

When offered, she takes up a light shield and... whatever else. A mace or a club. She'd rather not kill. Not now. She does't know these men nor those that follow them. Perhaps they are the outlaws and those in pursuit are local authorities. Maybe she is better off found bound somewhere below deck. No, she has to trust someone. The devil you know...

"What can you tell me of the men that follow the ship?" she asks of someone before taking up the offered weapon.

[Charon23]

You find that you are wearing some thick trousers of a near-black green that fall to just above your ankle with an embroidered flair, and socks of soft wool and dress shoes fitted with a 'silver ring and knot' shell not unlike that of the bundle. The shoes are more decorative than practical and they do not bite well into the deck as the ship lists gently as it takes a wide arc forward.

The men proffer a mishmash of overlapping thoughts to your request, with a few hinting at previous arguments.

"Must be damned pirates! Can't pass these lanes without fending someone off of what's rightfully yours!"
"I say it's Vamildale! You know they meddle where they don't belong! May as well be pirates for the good they do!"
"I..I thought maybe they're friends'a yours? That is, I mean no offense it's just..ehm.."
"Well I say it's the demon spawn from the city!" Then as if delivering a punchline, "Oh wait, you already said 'pirates'!" They and another double over in laughter while the other two share a hearty chuckle and continue their own argument. An order to one of them from the shifter from across the deck brings them back to their senses.
"Could be most anyone but not likely as to be friendly in these parts. Best case they're desperate for aid or council, or the city folk tryin' to show some muscle. Worst case, well..Not likely slavers'd have the gall but.."
On the meta end--I foresee some blocks of paraphrasing happening here 'soon'. I realize that's less interactive and I'm also trying to balance pacing with giving you some information gathering opportunities. So, let me know if you'd like to dive back into the granular (i.e. as the response above, etc.) for anything.

[An Amy]

Altana
Pirates? Oh that did not sound good. Pirates weren't uncommon around Illyos. They didn't tend to be a big issue given the presence of merfolk who didn't like such people on their waters. But they aren't unheard of. Given the number of ships... it is rather frightful if so. This news, however foreboding it is, seems to be taken somewhat in stride by the men. They even take the opportunity to pass a joke about it. This calms Altana's nerves and fears of her own that she may have committed herself to violent action toward those undeserving of such. The devil you know...

"Where... exactly are these parts?" she asks the men as she tries to get used to the shoes she's wearing.

Answer in toe, she'll retrieve the bundle from someone asking about it a second or so earlier. And given enough time before the incoming ships require addressing directly, she'll find a spot and unravel it enough to get a peek as to what is contained within.

[Charon23]

One of them answers, "Sea of Biellifez", then pointing starboard, "That'd be near two or three days to Yorder's westerly ports taken directly." They study your response intently, perhaps curious for signs of recognition.
Altana is unfamiliar with the sea by name but can recall basic maps and lore surrounding Yorder. [EDIT: ..But that's not entirely surprising if true. She would have studied the terminology of lands further east and along the northern stretch of Soman, for instance. It is a veritable 'Tower of Babel' though, as many geographical features have different names for each audience. Many who impart directions to non-locals rely on orientation versus the larger nations to help translate, or draw diagrams to avoid names altogether. "Go past Lake Vhorhul and then.." "You mean Lake Alfan Minor?" etc., etc.]
You must borrow a blade or force the bundle otherwise as no convenient means of undoing the netting from the mass exposes itself. Inside is a collection of objects, each in their own protective padding and packed together with care. A cursory glance within a few of these suggests that it is your gear, in a manner of speaking. Its elements seem to have accumulated more wear than at your departure from Illyos, and there are some scroll cases and other accessories that you do not recall packing. A rigid form through the center reveals itself to be your morningstar and manipulating the bundle reveals a form in the shape of your shield acting as the pile's foundation.

[Charon23]

In the minutes that follow, the ships of unknown origin progress into a pincer formation--Just out of reach but seemingly capable of overcoming your ship at will. Individuals can be seen like tiny metal-flaked dots across each of their decks and their oars move speedily. Defensive preparations continue and evolve into a frantic yet somehow disciplined shuffle, and a cadre of ship's mages assemble in a nearby alcove in heated discussion. Over the other noises you hear phrases that suggest they are formulating a strategy of sorts but none of the group sound particularly confident.

A few lone figures gather on the bow of the nearest ship. Ripples of gossip spread across the deck and to you and the buzz of overlapping conversation makes you feel much like a bee in a hive. No particular care is given to translate for you as a newcomer, and much of the incoming speech is steeped in lingo and unfamiliar metaphor. Just when orders are given to prepare for an imminent attack, the other ship erects a shadowbox-like structure on its bow. The figures step to either side of it and dots of light can be seen dancing in formation within its shade. The nearest ship's watch squints through her scope above and shouts back down to the captain with notes of hesitancy and confusion. Moments later you hear deckhands rushing past conveying orders to track down canvas sheet and paint.

[Charon23]

What was shouts in preparation for a fight becomes ripples of hushed speculation as the dancing lights repeat the same pattern. The talk quickly devolves into silliness and laughs as the battle-hyped crew grows bored. "I bet they're glow bug trainers!" "This has got to be the worst magic trick I've ever laid eyes on!" "Hey, remember when Duglam had a few-too, tried to juggle his flaming daggers in Holnk?" "Aye, may-Cullam-favor-'is-soul."

Eventually a crude sign is hoisted in gigantic letters facing the other ship, with traces of footprints wandering away from each swatch of dark paint. The block letters simply read as, "WHAT?"

Following another pause with the ant-sized shapes huddled together a larger orb of light appears within the box, and it slowly traces shapes of letters in common as it floats within. The watch calls each letter down to a silent audience, save for the continued rhythm of rowing chant. "ATCHE!".."AYE!".."ELL"..."TEEE",....."DE', no--BEEE".."WIEEE",...."OHHH'..'ARRR'..'DEE'..'EEEE', 'ARRR',...'OHHH'..'EFFF',....'VEE'...'AYYY'.. The letter calls continue but at this point the captain and first mate exchange meaningful glares with clenched jaws and a call is made to still the ship. The oars drag against the ship's momentum and a groan and several cries of annoyance are let free. Before the last letter of 'Vamildale' is revealed an even more crude canvas hangs between two deckhands' stretched arms reading, "FINE!"

[An Amy]

Altana

She unwraps her bundle carefully as she feels she's going to have to put it back together. Just enough to produce her shield and morningstar after making sure there are no Illyos symbols on either. For the most part, she's forgotten what's on them. They're ubiquitous to her by this point. Once she's sure, she wraps the rest of it up. There's no time for going through all of it. And her chainmail would take too long to don. Plus, there are too many other things she's not familiar with... No time to sort through them all. Those other ships are closing fast.

The exchange between the pursuers and pursued is baffling to her. She starts to read out the letters in her mind. Halt. By. Orde... Who? She suddenly feels this is because of her. She fears it, rather. If it is so, she has a feeling these men would not hesitate to hand her over and be on their way. At the same time, those that are following may not care to spare anyone? Or maybe they left a glove back at port and these men are being really, really thoughtful.

For the time being she remains quiet.

[Charon23]

Orders are passed down from the captain to stow arms and cooperate until such time as a signal is raised. Passive groans and curses persist but the crew ultimately acquiesces. A deckhand motions to you and delivers a hushed message. "Captain says you're to shut yer trap. Err, that is..Best ye' don't let on anything unbecoming else he can't protect you, that is." He fumbles with his words in embarrassment and a touch of sympathy, and with no apparent tone of malice.
--
Gradually the three ships are assembled near your own and long hooked poles are extended in preparation for safe boarding on open sea. Archers and mages can be seen behind a panorama of shields along the other decks. A mobile bridge is extended and a posse of lightly armored men pass over swiftly. They carry pole-arms but keep their points to the sky, and light melee weapons are strapped to their sides. Each looks markedly different from the next but a color theme of deep blues and purples with glyphs of creme and charcoal unites them. Shortly after a few of the mages pass over followed by two women and a man, each bearing fringed coats and official-looking ribbons and accessories. After a few quick questions and answers they assemble near the captain, who stands cross armed and defiant near the mast. This forces the contingent to file through the central path of the deck.

The trio of officials proceeds to question the captain, and more soldiers cross over in systematic maneuvers to secure the ship and its many hatches. Initially the captain responds to the three in short and restrained phrases, appearing to take on a diplomatic tact. Following a lecturing monologue from one of the women he begins to fume, and bursts into a tirade of obscenities and counterpoints. He gestures wildly at the air and berates them loudly while the three offer their own arguments. Fingers are pointed threateningly in both directions toward each sides' faces and chests. Meanwhile the soldiers begin to search the ship, and hatches are opened and entered. They do not seem to pay you any attention other than a number of quizzical expressions as their members pass to and fro.

[Charon23]

A few minutes pass and six crew members are brought forth from the cabins. This includes the source of the previous rambling voice as embodied by a bright-eyed young gnome woman. She wears a modest dress of jewel tones and a stained apron, and her tight blond curls spill out of a triangular hat, framing a fair-yet-tanned face. The others stumble forth with frowns, prodded firmly by the soldiers. She holds a man's hand and walks gingerly onto the deck as if taking a lazy stroll. Her bubbly voice with hints of melody stream forth. "..I can't say I've been but do tell me, do they serenade the sheep with song as some claim, and what of the flowers on the hills, how I do enjoy...." The man at her side wears a conflicted mask of expressions, both attempting to remain serious while getting sucked into an onslaught of questions at the same time. As she passes you she beams a smile and interjects, "Ohh, lovely to see you up an about, sleeping duck! Stop by later and we shall share a nice pot o' tea." A few of the men on the deck confer with the mages and the woman who offered you water is added to the assembly with a deep scowl, which is accentuated by her deep ruby lips.

You see an unfamiliar deckhand interviewed across the way by one of the mages, and he points in your direction with a plain look of shame. Those nearby glare at him and he shifts uncomfortably as the mage motions for a soldier nearer to you to add you to the growing pool. This one appears all business and he beckons to you with a stern expression. A couple deckhands gather the bundle near you at the soldier's order and they drag it near the new assembly. Similarly other satchels and pouches are gathered but these are placed in a pile a few feet away from yours. Two of the official-looking strangers continue to debate with the captain but one of the women breaks away to face you and the others.

Her face is marked with a heavy scar across a cheek and her uneven features hint at a frame of some beauty having faced a difficult life. She scans the group slowly but it is as though she is staring well past the distance where they stand. Hey eyes flicker to your body but continue on before she clears her throat and shifts focus to a scroll between her hands. Once expanded she intones loudly while reading, only placing emphasis on a few choice words. "By authority granted of its undisputed powers, pursuant to investigations pending and claims made, these souls are to be held for questioning, as decreed by that virtuous state of Vamildale! Per diem may be offered, contingent on a finding of conclusive innocence, at rates posted..etcetera, etcetera!" An errant shout interrupts her, well past her line regarding 'undisputed powers'. "Stuff Vamildale and its undi..!" The voice cuts off abruptly as the captain maintains an eye on his two adjacent adversaries but launches a commanding fist into the air in a gesture of halting. "..Furthermore! This vessel shall be seized to the proximity of docks of '..West Yorder' in, 'North..Olgenwart', as nearest to those Vamil quarters by proxy of 'Aureft Court, five zero two Ash Way, until such time as this order is complete! And so it is!"

[Charon23]

FYI and again on the meta end: The broader events in play have a considerable momentum (i.e. the captain grudgingly allowing the ships to board without a fight and so on). Please enjoy the view from your railroad car and staff will be making rounds shortly with snacks and beverages. --But I'm pausing here as Altana's response(s) to the situation may determine some details and info provided, present and future. Furthermore, this is the last spot I have planned prior to the paraphrased segue to be in Yorder and to meet up with Solomon. Not to kill that reveal but I feel it apt to provide that much insight, particularly given the strong-armed nature of this backdrop.

[An Amy]

I.e. a license to chaotic neutral the DM blocked text! Got it!

[Charon23]

I.e. a license to chaotic neutral the DM blocked text! Got it!
Essentially yes, in that the blocked text is what happens without intercession, but free will is assumed. If you want to interrupt the big-bad-evil-guy's monologue mid-paragraph then so be it. Without the advantage of real-time responses from face-to-face play I'll continue to write a few extra sentences knowing they may be wasted if the PC's intervene. I try to delineate the more static narrative as a meta-cue with the brown text, for what it's worth. :smallsigh:

[An Amy]

Altana

Following the recommendations of the captain, Altana keeps her words to herself and tries not to stand out... anymore than she already feels she is. Huntress, she feels out of place. They are being boarded and then searched. For what? Some people are assembled. Then soon someone points to her and she's gathered as well. She says nothing. What can she do anyway? If they are there for her, they would be gathering her and her alone. So that is not the case. There are others being detained the questions. If it was only her, she might claim to come and ask that the rest of the ship and its crew be left out of it. But... no, there is perhaps more going on. Again, as advised by the captain, she keeps her mouth shut. She knows none of these on the ship. She will hate it if their plight is her fault. She can only hope her presence has nothing to do with what is going on. For everyone's sake.

But if it is... she wants the answers too. Why was she packaged up for shipment? What silver stuff? Why the floral tunic? Where are her friends? What really happened back home in the council chambers?

[Charon23]

The [[shifter]] quartermaster takes over talks with the Vamillian crew, and the captain storms off to the opposite hatch. The shifter breaks his silence and begins to shout orders to his crew to make ready for the new bearing. The stream of exclamations directed at no obvious target seems to confound the Vamil members for several seconds until they catch up with the pace of his questions and rebukes as obfuscated by his thick accent. The group gathered on the deck is split in thirds and directed to board the nearby ships.
--
The soldier offers a hand to you to help you along to the smaller craft. His expression is rigid but with this action a hint of sympathy washes over his face. The bridge flexes under your feet but the thick rope rails to either side and wide heavily-textured planks make for an easy transfer. There is a pause while others cross and you have the opportunity to scan the ship. Its crew looks past you in disinterest but none speak. If anything they look, bored? You see the gnome and the other woman join you but both remain silent now, the former looking about with curiosity and the latter flashing dark fearful eyes.

Moments later the male officer greets you with a clearing of the throat. "Ehmm, yes. Effort will be made to, mm, keep you comfortable as it were. We must take some precautions however." He motions the three of you over to a cluster of raised cabins with a row of small and thick metal doors. A soldier begins to unlock the face of three of these with a large key, then another pulls a lever that results in their opening with a loud, "kath, kath, kathang!", of ratcheting metal on metal. The room within is little more than a closet with a padded bench outfitted with cushions and blankets. A table for one juts out from one wall, and thick metal rings protrude from points along the sides. Another soldier arrives with sets of manacles for each of you in thick padded leather, and blindfolds. Others arrive with lengths of chain. "Ehmm, you will find there is a bell, like so ((pointing to a small knob)) should you have need of food or water. Mmm. Okay then." He wanders away, seemingly oblivious to the glares of the other human woman.

The gnome wrinkles her nose and stairs up to the soldiers with a skeptical look but raises her arms at the ready for the bindings. One by one you are bound and placed in separate compartments. The seat is far more comfortable than it looks but this is offset by the stuffy air and the darkness and the weight of the chains. After some time the limitations of the restraints wears thin also, as you find it all but impossible to stretch out properly. Little noise other than groaning wood penetrates the cabin.
Hours pass and meals are offered ((whether they are rung for or not)). Over-sized bowls are filled with enticing stews with aromatic root vegetables and some kind of meat and grain. The strong spicing leaves tears in your eyes as the appealing aromas waft over to you. Still so weary from your previous ordeal, it is difficult to track time as you fall in and out of sleep.
After..at least a day? Maybe two? ..you reawake and feel the ship slow while banking on sharper turns. The momentum finally stops and your shoulder is pressed hard against the cushions beside you. The doors open again and an avalanche of overlapping sounds drum against you. It sounds like you're at a dock, and one far busier than those of Illyos.

Minutes later the chains are removed and you are helped onto stiff legs. A man's voice, polite but made of gravel, informs you, "You'll get a bag now so's to protect your identity. It'll get warm but I opened up the holes for you so's you can breath better anyway. This way, kind lady." Large hands prod you forward, and the man continues to give you cues to clear steps and turns.

Once you clear the ship it is some fifty yards or so before the coarse wood is replaced by coarse stone under your feet. Your sense of smell is assaulted with an array of signals. Savory foods and spilled spirits mingle with scents of the sea. These are dwarfed by putrid sources, sour and sweet. Earthy and salty. Your tongue tastes acid following a particularly disgusting volley of air. You can make out conversations in strange accents and other languages that ebb and flow as people cross your path. A few seem directed at you with the jeers of strangers. You also make out a few errant groans that seem to match the voices of your female companions near you, along with a few more that you cannot place. After about a half hour the street traffic dies down and you are pivoted to a doorway. A pair of doors open with a dual click and grind and you are directed forward again.

After a few more minutes you hear some indistinct conversation before you are directed, once again, to continue forward. A collection of a few hallways and turns and a set of stairs leads you to a lower story, and there you are sent into a room. A door crashes shut behind you and someone spins you around. The restraints around your arms are removed and a portal is slapped shut. Removing your head cover and blindfold reveals a poorly lit jail cell with a bunk and extremely tall ceilings. Once your eyes adjust you can make out a grate far above, and shadows of people cast odd shapes onto the walls. The light's source seems to be from torches of some kind but these are occluded from your view.
It seems as though several more days pass but nobody heeds your calls. Food is provided but it is far removed from the quality of that from the Vamillian ship. And so here you wait. As you fall in and out of a restless slumber your dreams play with your reality. Your head remains somewhat cloudy and there is little else for you.

[An Amy]

Altana

When she has a moment to herself, Altana just prays. While on the boat she tries to strike up conversation. She's a prisoner. She has no experience in this. Why would she? Who'd ever heard of a priestess being manacled and put in a cell? The transfer off the ship through the city... then to what could only be a pit. Alone. It is horrible. The ship was far better in both food and company. She could hear other conversation. Could ring a bell and get water. See the sympathetic eyes upon her even if no kind words were spoken. In the sell? She receives nothing like that. Only a pitiful assembly of food. No other human contact. Only the light from high above to let her know what the time of day is. Maybe. Are they just torch light? Is there sun coming through? Where are the stars? Oh, she cannot see the stars...

If there ever a moment where she feels abandoned by her patron, this is that moment. Prayer is all she has. Her own words echoing in the space that seems ever and ever... larger. That's a horrifying thought. Her space is small but her baseline for what is small is eroding. She finds that arguing with herself is pleasant. Even if the interaction is only with her own voice. When the food comes she begs for the interaction. Well, not at first. But it didn't take long before she pleads. Just a name. Some idly chit chat. Something she took for granted back on Illyos.

No holy symbol... she cannot relieve herself. What was that thing in the bag against her leg? What's her leg like? Is it even hers anymore? It looks... foreign to a point. She walks in circles around the room to confirm that her leg behaves like the other. And ah hah! It doesn't! It's different somehow. Even reversing the direction, just to make sure the steps lengths were given equal opportunity for representation, something is different about the wounded limb.

Her weeping fills her self-participating conversations now. Her body turning against her. Objectively she feels her mind slipping... Should that not keep her from falling? Or does acknowledging it hasten its effects? As if she's given up and embraces the coming madness.

[Charon23]

The small window-like hatch slides open with a firm 'thunk', far louder than past goes for food and the like. A shadow deepens near it with the sheen of two large eyes then the door opens. Before you stands an enormous male bugbear with ashy hair and a dull padded outfit. His face seems far too frozen to be sober and he slurs a command to you. "Shheertimm! Gowderremb...nnn, gisherr, paperss!" He gestures for you to walk the hallway next to him, and he proceeds to miss his nose in a mildly cross-eyed attempt to pick at it.

The hall is lined with cell doors on either side but no other guards are visible. The bugbear smacks you soundly with the flat of his ham-sized arm as you walk but he seems to apologize, in a manner. "Shhorr', dimmeanaht!"

He prods you forward gently, yet haphazardly, into an office space before closing the large door behind him. There are permanent torches in this well-lit room and the direct light is dazzling. You can make out a female halfling with a dull, almost bluish complexion and dark eyes, wearing a patchy coat of grey. She stares at you quizzically from an adjacent room, through a barred window. A human male stands off tot he side behind her.
Annd..meet me in the IC thread in but a moment..

[Charon23]

It's certainly fair to assume that Altana would have glimpsed or investigated her hip 'wound' and tattoos over the past several days. The lighting conditions apart from that which would have illuminated her forearm on the ship have been rather dismal. The following descriptions are meant to fit whichever time you think she would have or will discover them with enough light to see clearly.

[Edit: Additionally, some of the tattoos give her a vague sensation of power akin to their likeness, like a memory of a memory of times of comfort or defiance. For instance, the lotus-like flower gives an impression of floating lazily in a pool of calm water. The eye-shaped leafs with the pupils makes her eyes vibrate gently. The eye-shaped leafs with no pupils make her feel coy. These are all quite mild compared to the sensations of casting divine abjurations and so forth, but are stronger than mundane whimsy.]

I don't see Altana's languages marked. Does she just have common?

I'll ask you and PH7 to retroactively describe your characters in the OOC thread. Please include a vague reference to at least the tattoos visible on the forearm.

Tattoos extending onto forearm:

1.) [2 qty.] Cream lotus-like flower
2.) [4 qty.] An eye-shaped leaf, with 'pupil' of radiating lines.
3.) [3 qty.] An eye shaped leaf, with no 'pupil'.

Tattoos along upper arm and chest:

4.) A leaf with tight curls at its edges.
5.) A dark mushroom with a burl-like ripple on the cap.
6.) An eye-shaped leaf, split and mirrored down its center.
7.) A pink flower with bright greenish tips.
8.) A deep violet flower.
9.) A wild patch of grass-like leaves.
10.) [2 qty.] Vines with thorns.
11.) A dart-shaped fish with small jagged teeth.
12.) A thick, woody vine.
13.) A plant with long fine thorns.

Hip Marking:

The 'wound' from Garren's strange gift remained painful from the time of Altana's 'awakening' on Captain Malpruit's ship through the following several days. A dark scab formed over it ((once allowed to do so)) and eventually the pain receded down to a mild itch of a typical scab. The scab fell off neatly and revealed a crude violet tattoo of sorts. It is uneven and pieces are missing, as if the artist was working blind. Despite its state there is a strong suggestion of a rune or glyph of some sort.

1.) Illians at sea level within the mountain dock yards and cavernous waterways prize the bladder-like component of this plant for its utility as a flotation device. The flowers are used in other ceremonies and are depicted within nautical motifs.
2.) ???
3.) ???
4.) In Illyos, the cups of scholars and sages use a leaf much like this on decorative patterns for their tea service.
5.) ???
6.) ???
7.) In Illyos, the flower is mashed into a paste and placed onto the gums, both for medicinal and recreational purposes. It is known to slow the user's movement to a sloth-like pace.
8.) ???
9.) ???
10.) ???
11.) ???
12.) ???
13.) ???

[An Amy]

OOC
Not really an IC much at the moment unless taken aside. Spoilers require an extra action... Lazy today.
Altana has a 10 INT, so she only knows Common or Illyos dialect. She's spent most of the time as a priestess interpreting things, helping others and not studying much of anything except the religions she's been exposed to.

[Charon23]

OOC
Not really an IC much at the moment unless taken aside. Spoilers require an extra action... Lazy today.
Altana has a 10 INT, so she only knows Common or Illyos dialect. She's spent most of the time as a priestess interpreting things, helping others and not studying much of anything except the religions she's been exposed to.
OOC: Okay, and thank you. Please also add 4 bonus (cross-class) ranks into Knowledge(local_illyos), for a +2 modifier. I'm running that as a localized check to specific regions, and sort of a watered down version of bardic knowledge. The DC's trend higher (~+5-10) versus the regular knowledge category (i.e. Know'(nature) in this instance). Additionally the information tends to be closer to folklore or ritual and will have much less chance of being definitive. Altana is not suddenly a master herbalist. ..She just happened to roll very high on the three line items that I expounded on. :smallwink:

[Charon23]

Book of Hallowed might and Sanctified spells
BoHM has some broken spells in it. There's a 1st level cleric spell that will magically transport your armor to you up to a mile so you can wear it immediately. That's rather unbalanced and silly, imo. Others, however, aren't bad. One is called Hygiene. Basically it makes you fit for fine company, cleans you up, and gives you a +1 bonus against diseases for the rest of the day. It's more fluff than anything. Clerics don't have prestidigitation, so that's a magical way to clean up after a night in a tavern.

Another is called Blissful Sleep. 1st level, makes you immune to nightmare and means you can sleep under almost any conditions.
Quick Boost is a little potent for a 0th level spell. You get a +2 to a Str Dex or Con for 1d4 rounds. It's a shorter duration then the 2nd level spells and a smaller amount.
Quick Sober is, just as you expect, a 0th level spell to end drunkenness. Something Altana might enjoy.

Several others are just broken. It's a lot like Book of Eldritch Might. Some of those arcane spells are just way too powerful. Anti-magic chains is a touch-attack save and grapple or die. Hideously overpowered, that one.

As for Sanctified spells, one of the ones I thought of is Luminous Armor, Divine Inspiration. I've never ruled them as permanent damage. The spells are not that good for that. There are some pretty potent ones that have a whole character level as the sacrifice or even the caster's life, but those are higher level. As for the spontaneous offering, that could be done without but Luminous Armor is a good "I'm caught without my armor." Also, if Altana ever gets a monk's belt, she might start using things like Luminous Armor to supplement her armor.
Still holding off on the [Sanctified] spells for the moment. I'll allow Hygiene, Quick Sober, and Quick Boost. I can't seem to find the full text for Blissful Sleep, though I like it thematically for Altana. Quick Boost is strong for 0th Level but taking action economy and the campaign power level into account, I'm fine with it as is. I'm mildly tempted for entertainment purposes to up the casting time on Quick Sober. :smallsmile:

[Charon23]

OOC: Nice roll! This is perhaps a bit more than I'd offer even for a '24' in a different context but I think Altana would have a decent exposure to the lore. Lemme know if anything needs clarification. :smallsmile:

Cullam (CN) {Destiny, Chaos, Dream, Fate, Illusion}:
Cullam is favored by rogues illusionists, sorcerers, and some psions. It is said that the god walks through the dreams of deities, nudging their thoughts and redirecting their will toward his own mercurial whim. Many stories include Cullam as an unassuming wanderer who changes the course of history to the delight or fury of gods and kings. He is also the subject of many fables meant to teach lessons against hubris.
---

Slollenveik (LN) {Inquisition, Knowledge, Law, Planning, Protection}:
Slollenveik is often pitted against Cullam in myth. He is usually depicted as a bald sage with a stern expression though he and his heralds take many forms. They teach heroes to gain the upper hand through reason and insight. Judges, statesmen, wizards, monks, paladin, and psions favor Slollenveik.

Funremish, Esmodean (NG) {Celerity, Good, Nobility, Ocean, Passion}:
Funremish was a grand sprite who is said to have fallen deeply in love with the pure-hearted king and explorer, Esmodean. Together they explored the world above and below the sea. The odd pairing humored Cullam when they crossed his path. He granted them the power to change their shape and eventually deified them. They proceeded to infiltrate civilized lands, playing matchmaker and nudging kingdoms toward peace and harmony. They are called upon by those who seek love. Clerics hold services in their beautiful temples while others wander the lands seeking to sew good will.

Wildrim (LN) {Commerce, Law, Nobility, Trade, Wealth}:
The half-elf god is depicted with quill and paper or a small scale. In myth he spurns the chaotic tendencies of humans and elves, granting wealth and celebrity to those who build with care. He is a natural enemy of Cullam and friend to Stollenveik. T'vessen is the capitol of the Church of Wildrim. Clerics officiate contracts and centers of trade along trade routes, and assist Vamildale in other areas. Shops with the mark of Wildrim tend to have high prices but are known for quality and fairness. The Church of Wildrim also handles banking and money transfer services.
---
Loammdib (LE) {Earth, Evil, Law, Mentalism, Rune}:
The patron of evil duergar bends mind and material to his will. He is depicted as a jagged-edged duergar figure sporting a pair of over-sized sickles and a rune encrusted scroll wrapped around his mouth. He is associated heavily with evil psions and other casters. He is said to ward Kahetch with his evil magics.

Palksliklum (CE, Erythnul) {Chaos, Evil, Madness, Trickery, War}:
The lands now known as Quimgon were witness to the most recent outbreak of this vile goddess' followers. Now centuries past the events surrounding the mass slaughter are taught as a stark warning. Palksliklum is depicted as a twisted female figure with two maniacal faces pointed away from each other in profile, barbed wire wrapped loosely around the eyes and fists. Physical depictions are highly taboo, often leading the discoverer to near madness until they can find a healer to relieve them of the perceived curse.

Wasterbroak (NE) {Decay, Fate, Necromancer, Trickery, Evil}:
The god of death is usually depicted as a mummy or lich grasping a broken hourglass. In art he is also represented as a handsome man adorned in precious metals. Some legends place him as consort to Kahetch. He delights in toying with mortals as a cat may play with its food. While Wasterbroak and his followers are much feared, good peoples may display his symbol at times as an act of defiance.

Cullam is reasonably well known on Illyos, particularly among the most recent batches of newcomers and their extended circle of friends. Altana's brother likely picked up some odd sayings from his proximity to the greater world, and Hevlod would have made references to the god despite little interest in religion. Casual prayers are made to the god with only an occasional dip into blasphemy. He is the wild unknown, and even Illians may depart from their core pantheon to utter a prayer to the fickle one when the odds are against them.

Altana has also studied him in passing by way of cleric training and the studies by way of the Order of Zhabun. The Illian leadership does not consider the deity or his followers to be outright evil. They do however cast great suspicion on followers and clerics, particularly when they develop into cults and insinuate themselves into leadership roles. History has taught the lesson over and over that evil will make use of weak-willed minds who are in need of luck or power.

Select orders of priests of Slollenveik from Soman and other portions of the central continent have forged brittle bonds with Illyos over the past few hundred years. The two have rather different outlooks and approaches but find a common purpose in rooting out the less savory cults of Cullam. In some ways this relationship has proved to be more fruitful than the recent negotiations with Vamildale.

Some courtship and wedding traditions focused on myth of Funremish and Esmodean percolate through the lands. In some of these Cullam is cited as a lord of the bacchanalia, where days-long parties ensue before the wedding day. Altana has studied texts written by Illian scholars on the topic. The trending theory is that some of these festivities are planned by agents of Loammdib and Palksliklum, within separate lands, to test new blood for their pliability. The scholars cite a few cases where lands favoring Loammdib to the north fall like dominoes after prominent families are married together. A few records leaning toward the central continent and south include barbaric slaughters and strange feuds between families following a given era of peace.

Like with Slollenveik, Illian priests tend to favor specific vetted priests of Wildrim over the 'authority' of Vamildale. Some of Altana's studies would have included citation from clerics of Wildrim when attempting to draw truth from conflicting reports.

Priests of Wheabemnaal are particularly cautious of the undead god Wasterbroak. The more zealous (or paranoid) priests claim Cullam to be one and the same, and depictions of the two in their finery do often share similarities. This theory is rejected by most in the fold.

Diviners and mystics are likely to curse the god, whether they even believe in him or not. Likewise his followers can at times be unkind to those who seek truth in portents. While none of these stigmas are represented in Illyos it is taught as a lesson to traveling groups to not necessarily take offense at his followers for not understanding the greater truth of things.

In bardic tales of lands outside of Illyos, Cullam often plays a fool or a foil. Many consider Cullam to be more a jester or cultural anomoly than a proper deity. The more lawful-leaning cultures generally look on Cullam's more devout followers with pity. All told, Cullam is also favored by many for his purported positive deeds. For some he is the protector of their dreams. For others he has greater power to break the evil gods by pretending to befriend them. He is a matchmaker and lover of life in all its muck and glory. He spurns excuses and acts as a champion of hard work, often cited as punishing those who would call on him before making a proper effort.

[An Amy]

OOC
What are Illyos wedding traditions? I'm assuming that the glass globe presented the image of Altana and Solomon getting married or partaking in engagement ceremony? I played Altana in not recognizing what the event implied, insinuating that Illyos traditions are different enough she wouldn't have associated it with what she knows.

[Charon23]

OOC
What are Illyos wedding traditions? I'm assuming that the glass globe presented the image of Altana and Solomon getting married or partaking in engagement ceremony? I played Altana in not recognizing what the event implied, insinuating that Illyos traditions are different enough she wouldn't have associated it with what she knows.
OOC:
Excellent question! I'm inclined to agree with your assumptions, so here'goes:

Ceremonies vary from high to low, from above and below wave, and from in and out of the cave side. Regardless flashy pageantry is exceptionally rare even among those considered well-to-do.

Engagement among the common folk in the upper reaches tends to have more tribal elements, emphasizing the union's importance in strengthening the whole. Gifts such as rings may be exchanged but other tokens are just as likely, and few are judged with any sort of malice. A gathering is arranged and the potential coupling is scrutinized by friends and family, often in a pseudo-public setting. The gross majority of couples pass this 'test' with some blushes and awkward jokes as the announcement is used as an excuse to celebrate. In some cases this is used to hash out old feuds between opposing individuals, and in the best eventuality these are settled or 'buried' in a rite of support for the couple. On rare cases such feuds boil over and eventually 'sink' the union before the wedding ensues. Often this unfortunate outcome is met with some pity but also with a sense of relief. Strong unions in Illyos are important, and much ceremony is given to heal schisms. When these efforts fail it is seen by many as still 'for the better' that they are not allowed to fester under the surface--Whether true or not.

Wedding ceremonies are typically celebrated in batches on important astronomical dates. The wedded couples are adorned with simple wreaths that bind them hand-in-hand, and well-wishers add plain bits of dried herbs or berries or small flowers to the wreaths along with prayers as the newlyweds introduce themselves anew to the town.

Even with the benefit of endure elements, fanciful 'wedding dresses' would be considered rather gauche and presumptuous.

Clerics and those in certain orders within Illyos face an additional layer of scrutiny before the engagement is announced. While most postings allow for members to marry there are a few exceptions. The Order of Zhabun has historically vacillated on its rulings on the topic. Priests of Wheabemnaal are not necessarily restricted from marrying though many choose not to, in favor of a more singular approach to their craft.

[An Amy]

OOC
You mentioned that it had been a year since she met with the council. Would she know the year by number? Also, the IC post no one answered her. I'm going for the "omg it's been a year!" stunned sort of sobering effect.

[Charon23]

OOC
You mentioned that it had been a year since she met with the council. Would she know the year by number? Also, the IC post no one answered her. I'm going for the "omg it's been a year!" stunned sort of sobering effect.

Ahh,sorry--I'd intended for an attendant to offer the year, so please assume that one does quietly. Yes she would, and Altana would have been taught that other lands use the same KD#### year convention with matching values, whether she is convinced of this truth or not.

[An Amy]

OOC
Entertaining the thought of making her lapsing memory a thing... Stop me if I'm stepping on a DM plot toe.

[Charon23]

OOC
Entertaining the thought of making her lapsing memory a thing... Stop me if I'm stepping on a DM plot toe.
Are you thinking of it as a thing going forward, in that current sequences may fade or distort in the future? Either way I believe I can work with whichever flavor you're leaning toward, some variants needing only minor adjustments.. I've already planted some potential false-narrator seeds simply by how clouded the backstory run was. Either way I see there being a decent flexibility between the two of us.

[An Amy]

Are you thinking of it as a thing going forward, in that current sequences may fade or distort in the future? Either way I believe I can work with whichever flavor you're leaning toward, some variants needing only minor adjustments.. I've already planted some potential false-narrator seeds simply by how clouded the backstory run was. Either way I see there being a decent flexibility between the two of us.

Ever read the Wheel of Time? Matrim Cauffon. If you haven't read the ENTIRE series, and you might want to at some point, DO NOT GO TO THE WIKIA. It is unapologetically spoiler-ridden.

It would define Darth Vader as:

Formerly Anakin Skywalker, the father of Luke and Leia, is a Dark Lord of the Sith and apprentice to Emperor Palpatine...

[Charon23]

Ever read the Wheel of Time? Matrim Cauffon. If you haven't read the ENTIRE series, and you might want to at some point, DO NOT GO TO THE WIKIA. It is unapologetically spoiler-ridden.

It would define Darth Vader as:

Formerly Anakin Skywalker, the father of Luke and Leia, is a Dark Lord of the Sith and apprentice to Emperor Palpatine...

OOC: Yep I read the series though I'd need some Wiki's as refreshers for a number of the intertwining plot threads and so forth. It is far from the sole inspiration for this campaign but I'll admit a fondness for many of the series' mechanisms. I'm stealing bits of the 'ta'veren' archetype for PC's for instance, though the effects will present themselves differently.

I can see a few paths to supplant Altana's memories with others if that's what you're driving toward. If not lemme know what you have in mind.

[An Amy]

OOC: Yep I read the series though I'd need some Wiki's as refreshers for a number of the intertwining plot threads and so forth. It is far from the sole inspiration for this campaign but I'll admit a fondness for many of the series' mechanisms. I'm stealing bits of the 'ta'veren' archetype for PC's for instance, though the effects will present themselves differently.

I can see a few paths to supplant Altana's memories with others if that's what you're driving toward. If not lemme know what you have in mind.

Was something close to that. Perhaps the gaps fill with visions or just something DM-useful and nifty. You can really do what you want with it. I just thought it might be a neat path to add some extra layer of dynamic to the character. If you're familair with the series then, Altana is inspired by Birgitte Silverbow (or however you spelled her name). With exception to her being an archer and not a continually-reincarnating hero of legend. Just some parts of the personality, rough tongue, love of drinking and actually being tactically minded while devoted to a cause. This whole memory loss thing doesn't have to be an avenue to inject reincarnated memories of great generals or anything like that. But they are not natural memory loss. And yes, it would probably imply something major happened to her at some point after or during the council meeting that would open this thing up.

[Charon23]

Was something close to that. Perhaps the gaps fill with visions or just something DM-useful and nifty. You can really do what you want with it. I just thought it might be a neat path to add some extra layer of dynamic to the character. If you're familair with the series then, Altana is inspired by Birgitte Silverbow (or however you spelled her name). With exception to her being an archer and not a continually-reincarnating hero of legend. Just some parts of the personality, rough tongue, love of drinking and actually being tactically minded while devoted to a cause. This whole memory loss thing doesn't have to be an avenue to inject reincarnated memories of great generals or anything like that. But they are not natural memory loss. And yes, it would probably imply something major happened to her at some point after or during the council meeting that would open this thing up.
Gotcha. I dig the idea, and the abstract character parallels. I recall the WoT hero being described as quite tall and blonde, too, so I may have already drawn some subconscious parallels (though I expect details to diverge greatly, too). I'll think a bit more on how to play out background and specifics but I see no reason not to move forward with it. It may of course end up being a matter of overlapping symptoms from simultaneous diseases, so to speak, so do expect the possibility of some conflicting signals from the world.

[Charon23]

The leather-bound roll opens with a tinge of metal and oil. An exotic-looking rapier rests in a matching scabbard along its center. This looks similar to that which the olive-skinned woman carried at her side on Malpruit's ship, but you cannot be certain of the connection. Two matching daggers with small hooks at their quillons are left somewhat loosely within apart from a simple knot of twining attaching their holsters to the pack. A primary compartment of the roll holds a flute of unknown origin. Brass bindings shimmer at irregular intervals along its length, and the smooth turned wood is polished to reveal the exotic looking grain. The overall form of the cylinder takes a slight curve. In Illyos, even with its small size, this artifact would certainly be considered priceless. A series of tiny runes are carved along a portion of its 'underside'. A secondary compartment holds parchments and papers and ink and pen materials, but none of these indicate writing.

The small backpack holds a handful of leather-bound books. Each has fresh oil and a jacket suitable to withstand at least a brief dunk in liquid. The style and coloration of these differs while a similar looking brass coin-sized blank is set along each spine, each with a similar-looking engraving in an unknown language. A waterproof tube with small-sized inks and pens in their own slots is also included.

'Your bundle' includes the following items:


Morning Star, with signs of mild wear and a few repairs.
Shortbow, resting near the morning star. This may as well be new, but is unremarkable otherwise.
Quarrel with twenty arrows. Three of these have colorful fletching. Five are gray with a dull shaft, and further inspection reveals blunt points instead of metal heads.
Chainmail, but not that which you recall from Illyos. This set is made with ring stock with small fluted channels, and a small canvas-backed metal tag is affixed toward the lower back with a maker's mark. ((masterwork chainmail))
A wooden holy symbol of Wheabemnaal, again differing from your recollection. This one is worn from use, and raised wooden fibers, a faint oily sheen, and deep staining, collectively suggest a series of trials.
Two daggers, as recalled from Illyos, with minimal wear.
Tanglefoot bag.
Small steel mirror, well polished but some rusty pitting has formed along its edges.
Signal whistle, obviously crushed then repaired with different-colored solder at the joints.
Sleeping roll, apparently new.
(2) Coils of silk rope ((50 ft., each))
Water skin with tooled runes and some kind of inscription, and a waterfall motif.
The leather belt pouch given by Garren.
The heavy steel shield, though it is hardly recognizable. Signs of repair and replacement to its shell and strapping show throughout, and a fresh coat of deep-blue lacquer covers much of its face. A blue crystal is affixed to its rear just above the arm slot with a web of silvery metals.
(2) Potions, marked with the Illian stamp for Cure Light Wounds
A coin purse with several small gems and a smattering of coin. The combined value is probably just over 100 gp save for a more thorough inspection.

The knotted rope is stiff enough to hold much of its own shape as the bag's items are removed. Unless you forcibly press the nest of ropes down it springs back to hold a similar orb-like form, and the fabric somehow clings to this. You are still wearing the seashell amulet. ..And I feel like I've forgotten something from an errant note but I don't think it was critical. :smallredface:

[Charon23]

OOC: Go ahead and update prepared spells and consider them castable. It may be a stretch but let's assume she was not allowed to cast in jail but that she was still allowed to put them in queue via prayer, so to speak.

[An Amy]

OOC: Go ahead and update prepared spells and consider them castable. It may be a stretch but let's assume she was not allowed to cast in jail but that she was still allowed to put them in queue via prayer, so to speak.

She has to have a holy symbol to pray for spells. But I can do so anyway. What is her holy symbol?

[Charon23]

She has to have a holy symbol to pray for spells. But I can do so anyway. What is her holy symbol?

That's fine moving forward. I'd grown accustomed to the requirement being only that it is needed for the DF components and to turn undead, etc. For 'today' I'm okay with fudging it though. Take it as a random bonus that she can take as a blessing from the deity, or whatever else she chooses.

Wheabemnaal's holy symbol is a morningstar, head set ablaze and tail of a comet. Some depictions include her lesser known constellation to the side or behind the primary image. The symbol as used by traveling clerics is carved out from the face in a subtractive method with only staining and weathering acting as coloring agents.

[[Edit: I think before I'd listed the favored weapon and possibly the holy symbol as a scimitar (also with comet's tail). I was away from notes when I had a few minutes to tackle the image so I rolled a dice in my head and went with the one. While I settled on the morningstar for the symbol, either would be well suited as a favored weapon. Though some clerics would focus on one or the other, many would retain at least one of each, using whichever is most effective for a given purge/hunt/encounter. The huntress is the practical sort after all.]]

I'm also posting an interpretation for Solomon...

http://kahetch.twistedalchemy.com/image/art/wheabemnaal_hs01.png
Quick and dirty representation of the holy symbol. (http://kahetch.twistedalchemy.com/image/art/wheabemnaal_hs01.png)

[An Amy]

I totally have been mispelling Altana's deity for a while now. There's no D. just Wheabemnaal...

I work backwards and start correcting things I guess.

[Charon23]

I totally have been mispelling Altana's deity for a while now. There's no D. just Wheabemnaal...

I work backwards and start correcting things I guess.

Well I was waiting for a more critical moment for the huntress to smite Altana, but... No, no worries. I've done far worse, and likely assumed it was an earnest typo or her being muddled. :smallsigh:

[An Amy]

Well I was waiting for a more critical moment for the huntress to smite Altana, but... No, no worries. I've done far worse, and likely assumed it was an earnest typo or her being muddled. :smallsigh:

Nope, just me. Okay, can you spell that finneticly?

[Charon23]

I imagine it more often as the former, with it spoken quickly outside of solemn or teaching moments. Some would attribute the last syllable with its own honorific emphasis as to be its own word, like a family name among that grouping of the pantheon. And the 'H' in the 'WHEE' is more proper whereas most would not consider it disrespectful to drop it.


WHEE-ab-em-nuhl {as within WHEEL-slab-employ-null}
WEE-ǝb-em . NƏL

[An Amy]

OOC

What would Illyos opinions of warlocks be? Or Wheabemnaal's opinions?

[Charon23]

It's a mixed bag.

Wheabemnaal champions some degree of using evil's power against itself. There is a basic assumption that they should not be trusted outright but this is hardly emphasized over the more general paranoia of the church or Zhabun. Clerics infiltrate the corrupted ranks after, and sometimes before, a land is to be felled by evil necromancers. Witches and warlocks can be an unknown quantity as it is inherently difficult to place their allegiance. Wheab'-aligned warlocks have been known to exist, and a few have ascended to near-mythic status in their synergistic exploits with priests. Others have tried to play both sides, or have been exposed to be outright evil.

Illyos in a greater sense does not have a significant stance one way or the other. If power corrupts then history presents too many anecdotes of other mages and mundane peoples being swayed by darker powers. Few would have the arcane knowledge to associate them directly with demonic lineage. Most of the common folk would assume that the topic relates to the witches of Pivilos, which are both mysterious and hyper-political in nature, with some displaying warlock-specific abilities.

[An Amy]

OOC

Also, how is Altana doing with the ale? Saves yet?

[Charon23]

OOC

Also, how is Altana doing with the ale? Saves yet?
No effect, saves made successfully. [EDIT: You can essentially choose to fail the save(s) however, much like when targeted with spells.]

[Charon23]

Morning Star: Cleaned, oiled, and sharpened, consistent with regular upkeep. Two of the spikes look to be newer. There is little evidence of hard strikes against metal though there is faint denting along the haft, consistent with parrying.
Quarrel: Oiled with no signs of staining, though slightly burnished and scuffed on the bottom and front and back. The torso strap is darkened a touch where a hand would grip it when worn.
Chainmail: No discernible wear other than some smoothing of the edges of the rings.
Wooden Holy Symbol: ((Worn from use, and raised wooden fibers, a faint oily sheen, and deep staining, collectively suggest a series of trials.))
Two Daggers: ((As recalled from Illyos, with minimal wear.))
Small Steel Mirror: ((Well polished but some rusty pitting has formed along its edges.))
The leather belt pouch given by Garren: This has a dark stain on its back matching where the painful stabbing came from. The inside is empty.
Heavy Steel Shield: ((It is hardly recognizable. Signs of repair and replacement to its shell and strapping show throughout, and a fresh coat of deep-blue lacquer covers much of its face. A blue crystal is affixed to its rear just above the arm slot with a web of silvery metals.)) The edges have some shallow notching, with the bottom and sides having more uniform scuffing in addition to this. The face has shallow ripples consistent with repairs from hard blows, likely from bludgeoning or slashing woods and metals.

[An Amy]

OOC
Having looked into some things, I see now how relatively useless Healing Devotion is. It seemed neat. 10 HP per turning attempt. HOWEVER, I see a better feat, one that I just qualified for. I still have not used Healing devotion at all and would like to ask of the following: Can I swap Healing devotion for Touch of Healing? Touch of Healing is a reserve feat. I can heal someone up to 1/2 their HP for free as long as I have a 2nd level healing spell available, which means ANY second level spell. They get at least 6 HP per touch (3 HP x highest spell level). It doesn't harm anything; can only be used to heal. Not a spell, so I can't empower or reach it.

OR if you deem to make Healing Devotion scale it could be more useful. It scales somewhat with levels... but it's woefully outpaced by the first level wand of Lesser Vigor for only 750 gp. I think 750 gp is worth not taking a feat. Even the spell itself can out-perform. SO... can I swap it out or can we do something to make it hold up to levels?

[Charon23]

Of the two I'd rather tweak the Healing Devotion progression. As written I don't generally care for Reserve feats though I may make some exceptions there. Healing Devotion as published is still potentially more helpful than the raw HP with action management taken into account. All that said, how does this look for a modified Healing Devotion?

http://kahetch.twistedalchemy.com/altana/stat/healingdevotion01.png

[An Amy]

OOC

It seems... well the pacing is odd. The duration jumps backwards as, what I'm suspecting, is a way to balance out the increase in the FH. How about this perhaps? It's more potent early on and ends up a touch more potent later but the formula is simpler. FH increases every 3 levels instead of 5, and duration is always 10+CL. If you did it at the +1 every 5 levels, then you end up with a max 150 instead of 210. The progression is linear in both instances with jumps at FH increases, naturally. The goal you seemed to want to achieve was that the healed HP were more linear, not the progression of the duration, etc.



C.L
Fast H.
Dur.
Total


1
1
11
11


2
1
12
12


3
2
13
26


4
2
14
28


5
2
15
30


6
3
16
48


7
3
17
51


8
3
18
54


9
4
19
76


10
4
20
80


11
4
21
84


12
5
22
110


13
5
23
115


14
5
24
120


15
6
25
150


16
6
26
156


17
6
27
162


18
7
28
196


19
7
29
203


20
7
30
210

[Charon23]

Well, with much of my reasoning being moot from the last iteration--I'm okay with your base formula. Let's go with the '+1 at every 5 levels' though. I suspect that will still offer a valuable cushion, particularly if/when you take on a dual tank and buffer role.

[An Amy]

OOC
It works out to be the following. You get the bumps at 5, 10, 15 and 20 but the progression is already far better than the default, which caps at 50 HP at level 20. This modification is still a nice cushion.




Level
Fast H.
Dur.
Total



1
1
11
11


2
1
12
12


3
1
13
13


4
1
14
14


5
2
15
30


6
2
16
32


7
2
17
34


8
2
18
36


9
2
19
38


10
3
20
60


11
3
21
63


12
3
22
66


13
3
23
69


14
3
24
72


15
4
25
100


16
4
26
104


17
4
27
108


18
4
28
112


19
4
29
116


20
5
30
150




One final question: the feat mentions you can transfer the ability. I've tried looking up how other people ruled what this meant:


You rule that only the Fast Healing quality is transfered, and a person begins to immediately heal.
The whole feat's ability is transferred and a person can activate it if they wish or it actuvates automatically as designated


The trick with the 2nd option is that we don't have a limit as to when the ability has to be used. Anyone that ruled it that way put an "end of the day" sort of limit on it similar to the 1/day use of the feat.

[Charon23]

2 is fine with the end-of-day expiration, with the receiver not inheriting the ability to transfer the feat a second time.

[An Amy]

OOC
Cool, I'll make sure to keep that marked down.

Also, what are those boots?

[Charon23]

OOC
Cool, I'll make sure to keep that marked down.

Also, what are those boots?
Kay. And they're magical boots. With brass buckles. :smallbiggrin:

[An Amy]

OOC
More going for the whole "you put them on and feel somehow stridier and springier." or "they are oddly quiet..." or "you feel like they suddenly can't come off. And they're really heavy."
If it's not obvious, that's alright.

[Charon23]

OOC: Upon further examination of the tattoos on her arm, Altana feels the following sensations.

Lotus (1 of 2): Floating lazily in a calm pool, feeling gentle eddies nudge your limbs.
Leaf of eyes (2 of 4): Faint rainbows of color swim in your vision, a wakening of a hidden sense.
Leaves of closed eyes or no pupils (2 of 3): A memory of a successful bluff. Closed off to others.
Mirrored eyes: Flickers of focus overlapping with empathic emotion, aligned to each of your nearby companions, respectively. Eyes and head feel floaty, out of body.

This lists considers two thirds of the new tattoos to be studied in a manner that may or may not affect such an extraordinary response. Roughly half of these produce no noticeable sensation, even if they appear the same as others.

[An Amy]

OOC
Are these sensations triggered by touching them?

[Charon23]

OOC
Are these sensations triggered by touching them?
OOC: There is no apparent correlation with simple touch. The apparent tie to these sensations is solitary mental/visual focus on each. Again, success is roughly 50%, and retrying by the same means with one that had no sensation produces no change. That all said, was your intention that she be prodding at them when the sensations occur?

{{OOC: I've saved a copy of this thread's progress through this post. 05/16/2017}}

[An Amy]

OOC
So, Altana has been hosteled in a room. Could we say food poisoning perhaps from the more the elaborate meal she had at the fancy-pants inn, especially after a week or more of having poor food and then who knows how long before even that as a statue, presumably eating nothing? May not be due to the food from the inn just the eventual expulsion of accumulated toxins.

So she never made it to the guild then? That leaves my reading requirement down to nearly nothing.

[Charon23]

OOC
So, Altana has been hosteled in a room. Could we say food poisoning perhaps from the more the elaborate meal she had at the fancy-pants inn, especially after a week or more of having poor food and then who knows how long before even that as a statue, presumably eating nothing? May not be due to the food from the inn just the eventual expulsion of accumulated toxins.

So she never made it to the guild then? That leaves my reading requirement down to nearly nothing.

Ehh, I'm inclined to leave it vague as I'd just described her as blacking out to the others, rather than getting outright sick in the wagon.

Correct, she did not make it to the inn. What I was getting at though is that what Muldmere / Elder Olramdol / Lieutenant Fowler / Captain Malpruit all contributed to the dinner (or will have once I update the captain's description of the travel itinerary), is intended to be relayed to Altana openly. I'm giving a day in game for everyone to make final arrangements and am aiming to have Altana 'up to speed' over that day.

You awake from a dreamless sleep to a gentle swath of filtered light from a nearby window. Specks of dust dance in the air above you lazily. Creaks and groans of floor boards suggest that this small room is part of an apartment or other larger structure. Indistinct and hushed conversation between a man's and woman's voices sound from beyond a simple wooden door.

The room itself is rather quaint with glazed plaster in light brown. The narrow dresser, wooden chair, and walls are all adorned by various crafts with a vague rural theme of plants and animals. The one corner not hosting a door or bed is overfilled by a neat pile of your armor and weapon, along with a familiar bundle made smaller by their absence.

A supernatural sensation of peace and calm tempers ((but does not eliminate)) sensations of fear or anger. A bell far in the distance rings out twice then hangs as a single note in the air for a good portion of a minute.
--
The daze of sleep fades and you recall your vision blurring abruptly during a wagon ride among strangers. The memory is more 'solid' than those of the previous adventures abroad. Yet it is difficult to hold all components of the wagon ride in your mind all at once. Perhaps it was all too mundane and repetitive, or perhaps the gaps are something more. Your belly begins to groan in hunger.

[An Amy]

Altana

I find my way to sit up and examine the state of my being, looking at my various tattoos that were new, the one in my leg that started all this and the rest of me. Am I in new clothing? Same clothing? Do I still smell of the bath and fragrances from that over-priced pampering stay at the inn? Then I grip my stomach, wince slightly at the sudden hunger pains and call out.

"Hello? Anyone around?"

Where's my stuff...?

[Charon23]

Upon examination your clothing appears to be the same as that which you donned at the inn. Scents of sweat and wool and what must be food fail to completely mask the oils from the same place.

As you call out the nearby conversation halts and a few thuds against the door indicate a tentative knocking. You hear a muffled greeting then the door opens a hand's width. A woman's voice repeats from the shadow beyond, "Are you decent, miss? You've a visitor if so?" The question is made rhetorical by the woman's interjection to someone adjacent then a much smaller figure props their eye in near the woman's thigh.

The halfling man has pointed features and sun-lightened hair loosely braided to create a mane around his head and neck. He bears a holy symbol of Enivarra's cloak and walking stick in aged wood. Well tanned skin makes his light green eyes more expressive and in shapes of concern, while thin lips make for a difficult read. He pries himself half through the door and surveys the room then relents and pulls back and asks kindly, "Yes, we are here. Ehmm, Seems you took faint on a wagon ride rather close to the center of healing. It's just been the one night, slept real sound by the look? Any...way to think ye may've had your armors too snug or some such?"

[An Amy]

OOC: totally switching back to third person... dunno why that first person showed up though. Roll for the brief heal check: [roll0]. And for the


Altana

"Probably something I ate," she attempts to exhume from memory. "Along with being upset from..."

She takes just a brief moment to examine her own body. Just based on sensations she currently has, any memory of pain or other experiences she had right before not remembering anything and becoming faint.

"...Things."

[Charon23]

The voice pauses for an extended period then asks, "Indeed..ehh..Would you be so kind as to allow myself and a few others in for a visit then? We've some questions to which your answers may ease our minds before you're on your way?"

[An Amy]

Altana

"I'll have some of my own questions, but sure, come on in. Just..." She looks around quickly to see if there are places for them to sit or room for them to stand. The bed may be the only place to sit and she isn't sure if she can stand. Being the supposed... injured, or whatever, she assumes she'd be perfectly fine remaining seated. It was a sudden case of fright that someone was going to think to sit next to her on the bed. And inexplicably worrisome that she had that sudden fright. As if that is anything she's ever been apprehensive about. She scoffs to herself. "Nothing, yes, come on in."

[Charon23]

The halfling extends a whistle out to the hallways then shuffles in to the room with a mild look of embarrassment. Behind him enters a human woman with soft eyes and a red nose dressed in leathers and crude linens. She extends a bow, perhaps as an afterthought, then scans the room as if appraising each object and its respective properties. Behind her enters a half-elf man bearing a quarterstaff darkened in a spiral across its length. He wears his chestnut hair short and neat, and wears simple-looking cloths befitting a peasant or artisan. He offers a polite smile and nod, then settles into a relaxed standing pose with the benefit of the stick.

The trio exchange glances then the halfling pipes up again. "Ehhmm, well hullo to you. I am Netreff Fayander of House Ghenemyn. Hmm, and these are ehm..my companions, Cyldia and Hy'eibar. If..if you please I will cast a spell now to ensure no lies may pass between us?" He wrings his hands then clutches his holy symbol while casting a spell.

[An Amy]

Altana

"How... uh, thoughtful of you," she responds to the request unsure for a second of what word to use. "Sure, go right ahead. I've never met any of you before either."

She does watch the spell and how it is cast to make sure it truly is the one she's thinking of. Zone of truth. It is a spell of a caliber she's never had the opportunity to cast. She's only recently felt the ability to request and be able to cast spells such as that or the ones like bull's strength and so on. There's a sudden level of excitement gathering in her as she thought about doing just that. But then she realizes where she is and looks about at the others with more discerning eyes as well.


OOC Sense motive [roll0]

[Charon23]

She missed the Spellcraft DC by a hair. Though she would be familiar with Zone of Truth enough to guess, she would have missed a bit of the verbal or somatic components to be sure of the match.

Sense Motive reveals no particular intention to deceive, or any other hunch based on the actions of the strangers.
Netreff relaxes slightly following the casting. His voice becomes wrapped in a shroud of intonation as does yours once you begin to speak. "I feel obligated to mention that these questions are speculative. I do not intend to lay blame on those found to inherit connection to them. .. We were made aware of your appearance aboard a ship recently and to some peculiar behavior. I am unable to confirm its effectiveness but I cast some protective magics on you to rid you of any disease or force of evil to the best of my ability, as Enivarra wills it." He clears his throat and draws a small scroll from a pouch and begins to ask one by one as to whether you are familiar with any of the names. None are remotely familiar. The woman tilts her head with a subtle pout while the other man takes over once the halfling finishes his list.

Where the halfling shows traits of reluctance, the half-elf is all business and waits a moment after a few names as if expecting a memory to emerge. His longer list finishes and he nods in approval despite his greater intensity.

The woman nods too and adds, "Their inquiry quells much of my own curiosity. I would ask still--Could you impart a fond memory however small from three week's time before this day?"

[An Amy]

Altana

She scoffs a bit. "Nothing in the last three weeks has been pleasant enough to say I'm fond of it. I could say I was fond of... Vyncent's reaction to tagging his cuff was entertaining. Can't say it's truly a fond memory, but it's not the worst of the lot, that's a postin'. Now, questions for you then. Who are you? Why the interest me? I know I've been somewhat of an oddity to everyone I've met, and, not to sound Joe about it, I'm getting a bit tired of everyone either treating me like I'm hiding something or could somehow be the key to long lost mysteries."

[Charon23]

Initially the woman responds with an intense look of anticipation. Once you reference Vyncent her expression subsides and she rolls her eyes faintly.
..
"Your protests .. They hardly compare to the dangers at hand. Ordan [[the capitol city state of Soman]] is on the precipice of civil war if it is not mired already. I recently had the 'privilege' of surveying Kyrove [[unkown]]--nearly fallen to a corrupted druid being the least dire explanation. Reports of aberrations of the natural world would trickle in a mere year ago and now they flow free." She stammers in clear frustration. "Who are we? We are they that would stand guard against these threats, and we are failing most complete."

The halfling projects a calming hand toward the woman and to you. "There, there. It is..ehmm..It is better to be frustrated than to give way to these evils, yes? I will answer what I can though there is much that I must protect on behalf of those good peoples that support us. We know we play the part of the prey far more than the hunter in this arrangement. Trust is difficult when they can corrupt the dreams and the minds. They use that which we care for against us til we too are driven mad or left to waste. .. I would avoid frightening you if these were not the truths before us. I myself am shaken to my bones if not for the grace of Enivarra and the kindness of so many. So I urge you to be diligent. Find joy and do that which may better the world regardless of the final outcome.

Nevertheless we are desperate. If you can help us then we will be forever grateful. Ehmm...whether it seems so at times or not."

The half-elf butts in and says, "I am to splinter from these two so that I may join Muldmere's expedition south. {{to Altana;}} You may call on me when you have the need. Now I am anxious to part ways that I do not forego other news of the lands."

[An Amy]

Atlana

"But why question me?" she asks still with no clear picture about what is going on. More questions, rather. "Unless you were concerned with my sudden illness may some how be related?"

And then asking, "Help you how? I'm a bit confused. Wheabemnaal charges us with fighting things in the shadows where they'd seek to hide so that evil will know no place of refuge. I'll help how I can... not sure how thinking happy thoughts are going to help with that."

[Charon23]

The halfling mulls over your first few questions then responds, "Indeed. Disease is a common enough thing, especially around Yorder here. A new passenger shows symptoms a few day's in and this is where they land in search of healing. But..Suppose for a moment whether it is you or another. Not all illness presents as a fever and a need for a bed. There are those more vile that weaken the soul. That weaken one's resolve. Those that hibernate for far longer than they ought to and bring with them conditions of plague. Some..rare cases, do not respond to all but the strongest of magics. It would not take a witting carrier of these to take an unassuming village to its knees. .. We cannot quarantine everyone, no. And mayhaps your origin may be explained by other means. Still it does spark our interest to imagine you may be a case of this latter sort. A..forerunner..to darker times, no offense intended. .. We have received word of like conditions that preceded the fall of several cities in Soman, just this past month. So we grasp at any clue that reaches us, and prepare for the time we may halt that passenger that would do the same here or abroad."
Altana's training in Illyos would support the history that the halfling is presenting. Over the times where Illyos was all but barricaded but was witness to other lands fighting off subjugation--Towns would mysteriously fall to sickness and or have bouts of odd symptoms before being reclaimed by tyrants and the like. The training particular to Wheabemnaal covers the specifics related to undead and their carriers of certain diseases, which also shares similar precedent.

Sense Motive still does not trigger any suggestion of deception, or hidden meaning.
"Hmm.. Wheabemnaal. A name I have not heard in some years. How is it that you know of her..and her teachings?" The woman's intense interest returns as she awaits the answer.

[An Amy]

Altana

"I am one of her priestesses," Altana answers proudly, "charged with many things including the task you seek. That is keeping out diseases and their carriers, unwitting or not. I was raised in Illyos. It's where I'm from and where I was before... my misfortunes abroad."

[Charon23]

All three clamor excitedly to ask follow up questions. The half-elf pipes up first with a baffled expression, asking, "How can this be? Is Illyos not barren?" The human regards you with a solemn gesture of hand to chest and a tilt of the head. "The undead scourge threatens to return and break us whole. Would you join us in our quest?" The halfling wiggles his eyebrows in thought then settles on a look of one passing along an enticing secret, and asks, "Then have you ever been witness to a vampire, priestess?"

[An Amy]

OOC: Would she have experience with a vampire? She's not really high enough level to have dealt with one unless it was a really under powered. An unoptimized goblin vampire level 1 aristocrat who was all alone?

[Charon23]

OOC: Would she have experience with a vampire? She's not really high enough level to have dealt with one unless it was a really under powered. An unoptimized goblin vampire level 1 aristocrat who was all alone?
OOC: She would not have first hand knowledge, but she would know some minor lore via training and proximity to Pivilos (i.e. undead, associated with bats, blood sucking, strong.)

[Charon23]

Netreff adds, "We were alerted upon arrival on this isle that some of the Vamil forces have a vampire most vile from Pivilos in transit to their great prison to the south. If you would indulge me..err..us rather, we would benefit to know if you can sway them as the tales suggest?"

[An Amy]

Altana

The priestess shakes her head in response. "I do only know of vampires but have not had the duty to rid the world of such as their kind. I'd jump at the opportunity if I felt I was capable or no one else able or willing. I'm not sure how much sway I have with anyone, especially Vandal given how they'd just had me locked up without even needing to give me a reason for it. I could try and talk, but... I have some others here that I owe favors to for helping me and the guild, of course, for seeing to my release. I left Illyos to help the world, and I do intend to do that. Pivilos... I guess I should have expected a vampire there and that they'd travel. Hard to imagine everyone not staying where they're born on account that us Illianers tend to do just that. Aye, as I said, I do intend to help somehow, but before I can do that to great effect I have too many questions to answer."

[Charon23]

The halfling visibly deflates and conjures a sigh but shakes this off and smiles to you. "Duty to self and others wrests us from more and more. Certainly you may call on Hy'eibar if you have the need. May the answers you find favor you and your path, priestess. .. If..there is nothing else for the now then we shall leave you be."

[An Amy]

Altana

She felt the weight of the half-ling's disappointment as if someone had dropped a ten-pounder on her foot. The deflated look... she hated turning people away that needed help or were seeking it. But the problems she faced to her felt like a wall between her and what she was there to do. Without knowing what happened to her or why, she wasn't sure she could bring her mind to focus on others. It felt selfish, sure, but what could she do if she was not capable of helping? What good would it do to try and fail and end up hurting others further? There seemed a shortage of those able. Despite all that she couldn't keep her brows from narrowing in a bit of indignation.

"[Something? like...]I have a duty to help," she countered though not harshly. "I have a duty to others, all others, you included, but until I get some things sorted out, I'm of no used to you or anyone. Perhaps a burden or a thorn. I'm not but a few days released from being imprisoned in a foreign land and only a week or more waking up from a catatonic stasis after apparently spending a year outside of Illyos but only knowing it as maybe a month. Leave your letters and I'll get to you when I'm able. You don't want me until then, I assure it. Don't look so defeated... I never worked alone before and I don't intend to do so now either. I'll bring this up with others and maybe someone else can help compensate for my current inadequacies. I'm sure I can find other enemies of vampires."

She hoped... she'd never thought that there might be those in the world that loved them beyond Pivilos.

"People hate vampires in general, right?"

[Charon23]

He simply nods in understanding then replies, "I should hope so! They are vile things that treat others as sheep. May the light burn them whole! .. We shall be on our way then. It is a fine day to discover an ally along any path. May your load be lightened as you have lightened mine." Netreff steps back and the other two take the cue to say their goodbye's. Cyldia bows her head with hand to chest and says, "Mend and grow. Remember too that the darkness will not sit idle. It stirs yet!." She steps aside and Hy'eibar glances at the others with a mild look of annoyance. He imparts to you with a determined look, "Good fortune to you, Altana. I shall be seeing you soon." He bows solemnly and exits, followed by the other two.

[Charon23]

Some time later the woman from earlier knocks on the door, asking if Altana is in need of anything. She relays that her party is but a short walk from this healing center and provides directions.
The timing is close enough that I'll extend the option for Altana to interrupt the roof-top encounter if she would be inclined to seek out Baldric and Vyncent. If not though, what/where is she off to?

[An Amy]

Altana

She parts cordially from the three as they make their leave, saying nothing more that would interrupt their egress. Alone once more she goes over the room and her belongings, accounting for them once more as she had earlier and making note of anything different... though some of the items are still too new to her or changed to the point where they still look new. Once the woman comes in, the priestess says that she feels well and would only like some water and a fruit or two if available. She's rather hungry but doesn't want to sit down to a full meal at the moment.

"Do you know where Solomon or Wyonella is?" she asks of the woman. Armed with the knowledge of the answer, or lack of knowledge, she heads out to locate one of those two. Vyncent perhaps, but she looks first for the not-quite-a-mage and Hipster.

[Charon23]

The woman attempts to conjure a thought but it apparently slips away as she replies, "No, dear. I do not know of them. It was, ehm..A mister Baldric and a mister Vyncent, and a elf man, that I'm told stayed there last night. Perhaps they would know of..their whereabouts?" She makes an excuse to wander away then returns a few minutes later with the fruit and water as requested.

The items show no signs of change from their last sighting.