Escaping Carceri IC

[Tyrann]

You were captured, stripped of your gear, interrogated. The questions and accusations they threw at you made no sense at all. Regardless of the answers you gave, they beat you up. Repeatedly. Badly. But none of that could break you.

The drag towards the pit took you through the worst row down here, your feet heavy with shackles that linked to your wrists and prevented you from doing anything magical. On both sides of the aisle your fellow inmates loomed over you, three high in stacked cells, hurling anything from insults to food trays to acid spittle that burned smokey holes in your prison rags. You couldn't really dodge any of it, because you were wearing a thick metal collar connected to 4 heavy poles, each pole held by a fairly strong guard, all too eager to abuse the choke and shock functions.

You’re still wearing that collar now, minus the poles. The manacles, too, though they’ve stopped working after you were dropped down the hole, because the pit is itself an antimagic field.

Beyond that, the Red Pit is fairly unremarkable. It's a hole in the ground, 30 feet deep and perhaps 60 feet in diameter. The bottom four feet are filled with an inky black liquid that gives the whole pit a thick, heavy and salty smell that is somewhat nauseating. At first glance the liquid seems almost like a thicker sort of ink, if ink burned in your open wounds, like alcohol on a scrape. Those of you that can’t see in the dark, can still see down here, though it’s hard to make out any detail. The walls and ceiling, including the stone slab over the grate, all glow with a dull scarlet light. The pit itself is eerily silent. The only thing you hear is the other five prisoners moving about the liquid. Some of them might even talk. But no sound from the outside reaches down here, and everything echoes.

You all arrive in short succession. The first few minutes are uneventful, though you can't shake the uneasy feeling that there might be something in the water with you..

Please feel free to do an introductory post for your character. And don't worry, I am slightly evil but no serious combat until you get your gear back on.

[MikelaC1]

Zarabeth does not look at all like a hardened adventurer, more like a belly dancer (which, of course she is) and what a dancing girl could do that would get herself thrown in the most notorious prison in all the multiverse is anyone's guess. Standing (when not buckled under the weight of a prison collar) at 5'7" with blonde hair and green eyes, she doesn't look like a threat to anyone, which makes it even stranger why she happens to find herself here. But there is something about the wary way she moves and watches things that makes you think there is more to her than meets the eye.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

The humanoids Raakesh had come across had not, as he had assumed, been fellow wanderers seeking to return whence they came. They had in fact been bait for a trap, as he had realized partway through when a half-dozen massive creatures had come out of hiding to surround him and demand surrender. Had he not expended every last iota of his psionic energy reserves on powering the Dream Gate that had landed him here, he could easily have crushed the insolent fools for even daring to threaten him, but as it was he'd had no choice but to come quietly.

He'd found the ensuing interrogation not at all helpful. Their methods were laughable, of course--the physical pain inflicted by his torturer was no greater than that inflicted upon the Chosen during their training to strip them of fear and weakness, and when one's mind has played host to a literal creature of nightmare for decades the psychological "torture" was pitiable enough that Raakesh was almost tempted to offer suggestions for improvement. But where normally the Inspired was able to turn the tables on anyone seeking to interrogate him and tease information out of them in turn, he failed to do so this time thanks to a frustrating lack of context.

The word "Carceri" had come up a few times, which was somewhat useful, but Raakesh had no idea whether that was supposed to refer to his interrogator, the interrogator's leader, the interrogator's organization, the building where he was being held, the general region containing that structure.... He wished for the thousandth time that Tsekesh were still with him; aside from the fact that being bereft of his il-alta felt worse than losing a limb, the hashalaq quori had traveled the planes quite extensively with several previous hosts, so surely he would have had a better handle on the situation.

If Raakesh even knew which plane he was on, at least, that would clarify his situation. His current best guess was Mabar, but his interrogator had had no reaction to the name when it was mentioned. Perhaps it was a language issue, he mused, given that both his psionic gift of tongues and his telepathy were being suppressed by the shackles he wore; the natives here appeared to speak some dialect of Khorvarian, and between Raakesh not having spoken that language in more years than he could remember and his interrogator having an absolutely atrocious accent, he was sure things were getting lost in translation.

And now here he lay in the Pit where he'd spent most of the past few days, his fine clothing utterly ruined by the omnipresent black muck and his ribs aching every time he drew breath. He'd refrained from speaking with the other prisoners as they arrived to avoid the appearance of weakness, but now he judged he could finally talk without wincing in pain if he kept his breathing shallow. "To you all greetings I grant, after a silence long" he said in his Riedran-accented Khorvarian, too tired to even attempt to get the Khorvarian grammar right. "Your identities to learn I would desire, and our location to know if of our location you are aware."

[Ridai]

If the chains wouldn't lift their head up so high, Mess would look very small. Flinching from the abuse hurled onto them, the figure limps forward, tears mixing with blood, spit, droplets of acid, among others. Mess has heard where they will be taken, to become 'easily handleable property'. They have not slept in a long while, only when beaten into unconsciousness. When the shackles were put on and the voices grew silent and the misery no longer poured out of them, they wept in joy, thinking the worst was over and that the Red Pit was now far, very far. What followed is what is happening at this very moment. The futile resistance and begging have ceased at this point, the crying hasn't. They flare up once more when right at the edge of the pit, followed by a kick in Mess' stomach and them falling into the Pit.

The figure emerges from the burning liquid, coughing up the black ink, followed by wet gasps to let the air in and the pain out. Panicked motions drive them to the walls, scratching, grasping, finding no purchase, slipping, being invited back into the black, to be coughed up once more. Shoulders barely above the surface, posture crooked with pain, fear, and the onset of despair, clear streaks start to appear from their eyes. This creature is humanoid in shape, but identification is quickly becoming difficult beyond that. Facial structure, ear and skull shape, build and proportions, the being could be human, elven, aasimar, fey, male, female, or any mixture of all of them, jumbled together in a fleshcrafter's pot and poured into a mold. The back shows a messy ruin, like wings torn out. Hands held to the face, flesh becoming messy claws, all of it cut up, scarred, bruised, a few sobs of a shifting androgynous voice are heard, layers emerging and subsiding.

The voice startles Mess, visibly and audibly, instinctively shrinking away from the source. From beneath ink-slick long hair spun from celestial silver sky and all-consuming void, the shaking figure looks to the speaker from the edge of their vision, fearing the traps of being made to look at someone. Even in the monochrome of darkvision, one can spot the eyes. A sparkling emerald in a ring of shining gold on the left. A tiny pool of blood around a black slit on the right. Shifting tiny pins of starlight in the center of both.

Shaking, the figure hesitates, gathering courage, quickly running out of solutions, before bursting out with "Me-" A wet cough, a groan of pain. "Mess!" Offering what they call themselves now, two layers over the voice, one stretching the distorted sound. Feeling no immediate punishment, they say "Red Pit. B-breaks, m-minds. Forever." The last word hits like a sledgehammer, repeated by a deep growling layer, and stretched out sinisterly by another, with two others laughing and sobbing.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Breaks minds? This place? Raakesh thinks contemptuously, utterly certain of his ability to resist whatever mental torment this "Red Pit" might deal out. Amateurs. He is initially inclined to dismiss the creature who responded to him as a weakling unworthy of his attention, but a second look gives him pause. He reaches for his psionic senses to--Blocked, Khyber take it. He extends a tendril of thought to Tsekesh to--Gone, Khyber take that, too. With his regular, un-enhanced physical eyes he takes in the details of this "Mess" individual.

Human, possibly, with hints of fey and fiendish blood? Surprisingly familiar, given that that is the ancestral makeup of the Chosen lines from which Raakesh himself derives. But this creature is obviously damaged and shows hints of other ancestries, so it is obviously an inferior specimen. Still...that sort of breeding program is much closer to something he would find back in Riedra than anywhere else--even the Vadalis breeders never experimented with humanoid breeding, to his knowledge--and so would be worth allying with, if only to determine how it was created and take that information back to the bloodline shapers in Corvagura when he escaped this place.

"A pleasure your acquaintance makes," he says to Mess with the slight head nod given to a non-Inspired that is still deserving of some degree of respect.

[Xanyo]

In this lighting, little more could be seen of the cat than his amber eyes, which reflect the small amount of available light. It would be creepy, if not for what it was relative to. Although barely more than his eyes can be seen, it is easy to tell that this cat is not happy. Not happy at all.

The nonsensical interrogation had been utterly pointless for both parties. The cat had nothing to tell them, and they never asked about it anyway. As far as he could tell, it was just an excuse to beat him, as though they needed one.

This pit wasn't much better. Wet. The inky stuff, whatever it was, soaked his fur and chilled him. He would shake himself dry, but it wouldn't help. But enough about that. There is the "here" and there is the "now", the former of which he did not intend to allow in the "later".

One of the other prisoners speaks in an accent, although Coco could not correct the grammar.

"Where I know not," he hisses in a softer accent, "Why, too. How, maybe. A ritual ancient brought here me and mine. This pit, I came by lies. And now, I fear, mine are lost, and I am here."

He shivers, standing still so as to not drench himself further.

"To go we want," he states, "But alone we can not."

[MikelaC1]

Carceri. We are in Carceri. Or at least thats where I was when I was taken. If we plane-shifted after that, I didnt feel it. My name is Zarabeth, by the way. And they will have a hard time breaking me.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh nods when the shifter--probably a shifter, though it was hard to tell, and knowing it was a shifter didn't really tell Raakesh anything as his interactions with the Savage Legion were thankfully few--mentions a ritual. A powerful ritual gone wrong, or perhaps hijacked by forces unknown, was much like what had happened in his own incident with the Dream Gate. A common cause implied (though did not guarantee) a common solution, so this creature would likely be another useful ally. "A pleasure again your acquaintance makes," he says with another brief nod. "To leave as well I desire, and common cause to forge."

When Zarabeth speaks, Raakesh looks over at her eagerly. Finally! "Carceri" is a location, and someone in this il-alta-forsaken place knows where it is. "Where in Khyber this 'Carceri' is to learn I would much desire, Zarabeth," he says, taking care to use the name of a lesser being as an indication of utmost politeness in the hopes of securing her cooperation. "Mabar? Shavarath? In Kythri a stabilized pocket?" Pausing to ponder the figure of speech he used earlier, he adds, "Literally in Khyber, and not from the Material Plane we left?"

[Triskavanski]

They had finally caught him, or perhaps he allowed himself to get caught. Tired of running from the law, and the not so legal law, he got caught. Beaten, bruised, battered and broken, dragged down the way... Or at least what he wanted them to think. Acid? he thought to himself as he got splattered with it. He took in the information he could get as fast as he could processes it, even as he got choked or shocked by the collar. The collar had some sort of magic to it, the cuffs another kind of magic. If he was to get out of here he was going to need both of them off.

He looks around once he's thrown into the pit himself, after getting up to his feet. Four others, unknown capabilities. His own abilities cut off mostly by the manacles, and later by a sense of magic being cut off completely. He dips his hand into the pool of inky liquid, letting it flow through his fingers as he rubs them together to test its viscosity and how slick it is.

"Fluids burn slightly. Possibly capable of igniting. Slightly thick.. possibility of a lubricant.. he mutters under his breath before looking to the others. "Name is Von, and frankly I'm already to leave now. This place is most certainly not the spa I wanted to go to." He rolled his tongue in his mouth and reached into his hair trying to find if there was anything that was left. "Anyone got a hair pin, or something? They took my mouth pick, my hair pick and all the little things I had in my clothing. "

[Xanyo]

The feline laughs grimly when one claims that this place would not break them.

"Your confidence is too large," he growls, "You not know what they may do. And I not know. I do know this: do not underestimate. It will be your loss. But that is not here or now. Here is a pit, full of this sick liquid. Now is now, and let not we waste it. I am Coco. Ideas for freedom are wanted, but I have few. All I have thought is climbing one each other, that one may reach freedom and help each other."

He slinks through the liquid over to the edge of the pit. Touching it, he examines the surface.

"Those who put we here fear we," he determines as he does, "If not, why the shackles and the... the, ah, the... the thing that means no magic. They fear this might. If we can be free from the pit and shackles, we can be free."

[infomatic]

Farazahd struggles to her feet and tries her best to wipe the slime from her face. She stares up at the grate for a long time, as if unaware anyone else is down here. Her face is contorted in anger, and her eyes, which shine red in the otherworldly light of Carceri, seem to fit her mood.

"Argh!" she spits out, finally. "I should've gotten his name; I can't make him pay if I can't find the pointy-headed bas …" she finally notices the others and takes a half-step back, off-guard.

"Carceri is a dead-end," she responds, answering the last question she heard, not realizing it wasn't directed at her. "Tricky to get in, but harder still to get out. It's not the Wells, but … it's hard. It's a larger version of …" she gestures around. "This."

She shudders, remembering the fiend's words. "This is going to hurt a lot" "I am Farazhad. Have you lot been here long?"

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh is impressed by this "Von" individual's preparedness and observational abilities; he, too, would make a fine ally. "To aid you a tool I could create, if located in the null zone I were not," he says--not an apology, as Inspired do not apologize to lesser beings, but an explanation for Raakesh's current lack of contribution to the greater whole. And the whole is indeed greater, where most groups of lesser beings would merely get in his way; the fact that so many of his fellow prisoners appear as though they would be useful to him is surely not a coincidence, and Raakesh offers a brief prayer of thanks to il-Lashtavar for manipulating events in his favor. It is comforting to know that the Dreaming Dark's reach extended to wherever he is.

And he still didn't have an answer to where exactly that might be, as this "Farazhad" offered only more platitudes, not useful information. Calm, Raakesh, he tells himself, briefly closing his eyes, and he imagines he can hear the voice of his quori speaking to him. They are not enlightened. Their thoughts are not ordered, their words are inharmonious. Whether it is their personal failings or the influence of your surroundings, you cannot hold their inability to hold to their proper conversational roles against them. Yet.

He offers the human a polite smile, not pursuing the Carceri matter further. I will wait until there is no language barrier to ask again, he promises himself, and if there are no satisfactory answers forthcoming I will start tearing through minds until I find some. Aloud, he merely answers her, "Here three days stayed I have, plus a period of unconsciousness indeterminate."

[Ridai]

Mess tries to answer the entity with the strange speech pattern, but others starting to speak makes them flinch and choke down the words, arms close to their chest. The conversation quickly moves beyond the topic of Carceri, but Mess is sensing agitation, like claws raking on their senses.

"Th-there is no... no Khyber," Mess speaks quietly, once again dreading retaliation, knowing they are useless. A choir overlays the word Khyber, naming the other places mentioned in different speeds and tones, as well as a whisper of "A long way from home" with a ghostly laugh.

"Car... Carceri is b-between the planes of Hades and... and the A-abyss. B-bottom of the Great Wheel. Evil p-prison plane a-and black market." Each name is underlined with a distinct voice, Hades soulcrushing, Abyss fire mad, Carceri malicious, and multiple ones joining to name the Great Wheel. "Bastion of L-lost Souls. Red Pit," Mess further specifies, voice growing weaker as they go.

[MikelaC1]

My confidence and optimism are why they cannot break me. Ive dug myself out of slime pits far worse than this. She looks around. The idea of climbing on top of each other is a good one...the largest and strongest should form the base, while the lighter and more nimble form the second and higher rows. I figure Im probably the most nimble here, although cats are known to be pretty good in that regard.

[Xanyo]

Coco watches the "Mess" creature speak with interest. What had this poor thing gone through? Its name was certainly apt.

"I fear that, nimble but you are, you might be the strongest of we. Something lighter..."

One of his ears perks up, which you now notice had been pressed down flat. Something glinting falls, which the cat catches. He holds it up, and you can see that it is a small gem of reds and oranges, glimmering in the lighting. He grins.

"Here we have. Something of help. I can throw it out of here. It can move and see and speak with me. More than that no."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

When Mess speaks, Raakesh would have snorted disbelievingly, if such an emotional display were appropriate for one of his station. No Khyber? A plane named "Carceri"? Even the dullest student of the cosmos knows better than that. But then he reconsiders: what if this creature was born on the planes and never set foot on Eberron? That would explain the ignorance of Khyber, and if its native tongue had different names for the planes then "Carceri" could be a local word for one of the real planes. Or perhaps Carceri is a demiplane, which would make sense if it is indeed used as a prison plane. More thought--and more questions--will certainly be required.

More importantly, though, it sounds as though Mess is the host of multiple possessing spirits, and ones that have enough presence in the world to speak with their own voices. That would be...if the bloodline shapers could figure out how to allow multiple quori to inhabit a single Chosen...! Raakesh indulges in a fleeting vision of a dozen kalashtar attempting to flee in panic from a triply-inspired Inspired flaying them alive with bottomless wells of psychic power. It is the only spark of amusement he's found since he was brought here, and he appreciates the momentary diversion.

But now is no time to get distracted, if escape is within their grasp. He files away that line of inquiry for later and turns to Coco. A fellow psionicist, I see. Very useful. "A problem," he says aloud. "Its limbs yourself to manifest you will need. To do this you may not be capable, within a null zone. There helpless lie, it will, if it out of this pit you should throw."

[Tyrann]

Your introductions and discussion of strategies for escape are suddenly interrupted by a deep massive rumble that shakes the room for a good ten seconds. It sounds like the croak of a massive toad. Or perhaps, more accurately, the growling of a giant creature's stomach. Suddenly the walls seem fleshy, covered in a film of slimy mucus.

Map [Google sheet] (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit?usp=sharing)

Please roll Spellcraft, Spot, Listen, kn. The Planes and kn. Dungeoneering. Feel free to quickly communicate whatever you detect (talking is a free action). I'll roll initiative once you've all rolled your skill checks.

The AMF is lifted. Your shackles reactivate.
You hear a whole swarm of increasingly loud croaks rise up from the liquid, from the direction of the bottom right corner of the map.

That sounds like an Apocalypse Frog Swarm.

One of the four types of Divine Wrath Swarms, they are instruments of vengeance used by deities to punish the wicked, the decadent, or the deceitful. They are also sent as harbingers of calamities and cataclysms prophesied by ancient seers and oracles. As manifestations of divine intervention, they are far deadlier than typical creature swarms.

The swarm has a retributive aura with a radius of 30 feet, that causes any damage dealt to it, to also be dealt to all creatures in the aura. The swarm is vulnerable to bludgeoning damage.

Any evil creature wounded by the risks becoming afflicted by the to Eternal Torpor disease. Creatures afflicted with eternal torpor are constantly drowsy and cannot charge or run.
There is something moving in the liquid in F11.

F11 looks like a swarm of frogs.

There is an Apocalypse Frog Swarm in F11.

One of the four types of Divine Wrath Swarms, they are instruments of vengeance used by deities to punish the wicked, the decadent, or the deceitful. They are also sent as harbingers of calamities and cataclysms prophesied by ancient seers and oracles. As manifestations of divine intervention, they are far deadlier than typical creature swarms.

The swarm has a retributive aura with a radius of 30 feet, that causes any damage dealt to it, to also be dealt to all creatures in the aura. The swarm is vulnerable to bludgeoning damage.

Any evil creature wounded by the risks becoming afflicted by the to Eternal Torpor disease. Creatures afflicted with eternal torpor are constantly drowsy and cannot charge or run.
Looks like F3 and K6 each have a smaller version of a Flotsam Ooze in them. Flotsam Oozes exudes a sticky slime that holds fast any creature or item touching it. They automatically grapple any creature they hit with their slam attack. Opponents so grappled cannot get free while the ooze is alive. The ooze makes one additional slam attack each round against any creature stuck to it.

Flotsam Oozes are transparent in most liquids. They grants them partial concealment (40% miss chance). The adhesive substance breaks down 5 rounds after the ooze dies.

[Triskavanski]

Von is startled!


Spellcraft -skill mastery- 10+20=30.
Spot -[roll0]
Listen - [roll1]
No knowledge Planes
No knowledge Dungoneering
Knowledge Engineering [roll2]

[Ridai]

Mess clutches their head in fear as the rumble begins, their sounds drowned by the noise. As the rumble comes to an end, the creature peers through silver-and-void hair and between shaking hands with wide eyes towards the south side of the Pit, where Coco is standing. A startled intake of air is heard from Mess, along with desperately moving into the north-western corner. "G-get away from there! Don't attack the frogs!" they cry ("Run! RUN!" "Nowhere to hide" "Look at you, insects", along cruel laughter at the beginning of misery), making a wild gesture towards Coco.

Mess moves as far into the north-western corner of the pit as they can.

[MikelaC1]

Deprived of her tools which she could use to pick these stupid shackles, Zarabeth works up her strength to just try and bust out of them
[roll0]
The rumblings and croakings are trying to distract her, but she keeps her focus
[roll1] spot
[roll2] spellcraft
[roll3] listen
[roll4] K:P
[roll5] K:D

[Xanyo]

Coco tightens his grasp around his gem and tips his head, his ears perked and turning towards the sounds. He considers Mess's warning, but wades towards the sounds anyway, not in a hurry. After about twenty feet he stops and lifts a leg from the "water".

"What is this sound," he hisses, "That makes we fear so?"

On my turn when it comes up, unless a target is already presented: Moving 20' towards the sound, so to J8. Assuming I have a full turn's worth of actions, I will ready my standard against having an enemy target within kicking range(adjacent). I would then kick at it unless someone gives me a reason not to. Attack [roll0] Damage [roll1] if applicable

[infomatic]

[roll0] psi/spellcraft
[roll1] listen
[roll2] spot
[roll3] Know (planes)

Move to H-8


"Frogs? They're punishing us with frogs?" she called, and as she said it, something shimmered in her memory — or perhaps a holdover from an other memory, that sometimes happened — but then it was lost in the croaking and Mess's wails. She backs away from the sound, toward the others.

The pressure in her head lessens a little, and she notices the suppression field has vanished … though there are still the manacles to think of. She waves her arms in the air."Anything to smash these with? Maybe bash 'em together?"

Can we aid another on a break attempt?

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh shakes his head in reply to Farazahd. "To smash, nothing. Usually not my own strength to use I try," he says, half in jest and half in frustration at being so physically weak without his psionics. Perhaps neglecting a tour of duty with the Sleeping Swords was not our best decision, in hindsight.

He turns the shackles this way and that, trying to get a good look at their structure and composition under all the muck coating them. Eyeing the fraying edges of his clothing, he wonders if he might be able to slick back the threads sticking out into something more sturdy. "Perhaps the clasp to open we can. Has any other the manual finesse this to do?" he asks, taking a few steps toward Zarabeth and Coco--not just to see if they may be able to assist him, but also to discreetly put him in a position to duck behind one of them if the strange frogs start to come his way.

Can we see any locks or latches on the manacles that could be opened with Open Lock, and if so can Raakesh estimate how difficult they may be to open? He has a +16 Open Lock with the -2 improvised tools penalty and Zarabeth has a +17, so that might be more successful than breaking or Escape Artist-ing them.

And if we're declaring movement before initiative, Raakesh will move to F5.

[Triskavanski]

"The walls are tearable, if we can break them.. something will happen." Von shouts out to the rest of the group as he quickly tries to find the lock on the manacles. Failing that, he gets ready to try what he can do for combat.

[MikelaC1]

Zarabeth has opened many locks in her day, quite often, people who arrange to have dancers as entertainment in their establishments fail to properly pay the dancer for their work and she has had to help herself. But without tools of any kind, in fact anything to pick a lock with, theres not much she can do. She does try to find the lock or clasp on the manacles, just so she knows where it is if opportunity presents itself.

[Tyrann]

Some of you move to more strategic locations, while Zarabeth tries to break her chains with brute force alone. Alas, the lithe dancer is not a hulk, and she fails.

The frogs are now clearly visible, having surfaced in F11. There's hundreds of them, letting out an ear-splitting choir of hoarse croaks. To those of you that are knowledgeable in such matters, it is now unmistakeable: the golden markings on their backs means they are clearly Apocalypse Frogs.

Map is updated with your movements.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit?usp=sharing

Initiative, round 1
Fara
Frogs
Von
Zarabeth
Rakesh
Undetermined event 1
Coco
Mess
Undetermined event 2

[infomatic]

Fara's stomach turns a little at the sight of the mass of squirming frogs. When she'd heard the others talking of mentalism, her mind immediately went to the Duergar — perhaps these were other slaves she didn't know of. But death-by-frogs didn't seem like the Duergar's style.

"Well we can't stay here!" If the wall's weak, smash it!" she cries, but she's not about to turn her back on the approaching frogs. She stamps her feat, sending foul water splashing, and prepares to attack as best she can — with fists and a good deal of swearing.



Ready unarmed attack when frogs come close enough: [roll0] atk for [roll1] damage. When she attacks she'll also trigger Dreadful Wrath (not sure if morale effects apply to frogs, or if they have a hive mind); DC 23 or shaken, though it'd only apply to saves with a swarm

[Tyrann]

Fara readies herself to attack the swarm, should it come in range.

The swarm, meanwhile, moves over to Von, crawling all over him. They get under his clothes with slimy little paws, on his face, making it hard to even breathe. They get everywhere. Some even try to crawl into his mouth. And these little buggers actually have a mean bite on them, too. One wouldn't hurt so much, but 600-ish of them at the same time..

The way in which the walls have suddenly changed remind you of how Tsekesh would conjure up nightscapes in your mind. Not the imagery itself, obviously~ Far too crude and distasteful. But the sudden shift is very 'Dal Quor'-like.


Map:
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit#gid=0

Swarm moves to F8
Swarm attacks Von for [roll0]damage
Von: Because the swarm shares your square, you need to pass a DC 12 fort save or start your turn nauseated.

Initiative, round 1
Fara
Frogs
Von
Zarabeth
Rakesh
Undetermined event 1
Coco
Mess
Undetermined event 2

[Triskavanski]

Von quickly moves out of the swarm to the other far side of the wall (South side). As he does, he scoops some of the the sludge along his left arm to try to make it slicker and help lubricate his hand out of the bracer.



I've got no chance without any sort of bonus, but we'll try it.

[roll0] escape artist

[MikelaC1]

Zarabeth takes a step forward, attempting to grab and squish a frog, hoping not to stem the tide of the swarm but to get some sort of bone to use as an improvised lock pick

[roll0] attack
[roll1] attack
[roll2] attack

Note that if she cant get a full attack, use only roll #1

[Tyrann]

Despite the frogs swarming him, Von manages to at least keep his 'last meal' down. Which is a good thing, as prison food isn't particularly tasty. Upon being swarmed, he manages to break out, shaking and throwing the frogs off himself as he goes. He makes sure to put some distance between himself and the swarm before trying to slip out of his shackles, which unfortunately fails.

Zarabeth, meanwhile, has managed to grab hold of a frog and has proceeded to crush it in her hand. Running between her fingers is now a combination of green slime, still pulsing squirts of red blood, a few stray muscles, and a whole lot of frog guts. Fortunately, she had the foresight to pull on one of the legs with her other hand, and is now holding what is perhaps the strangest improvised pick ever: a thin frog leg, still complete with elbow joint, the last inch of the upper arm ending in a pointy broken femur. You're really gonna need to wash your hands after this. But you did get an improvised pick.

Zarabeth's crushing did hurt a member of the swarm. You all take 1 damage. It feels as though a giant ethereal hand has just squeezed through you.


Map

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit#gid=0

Initiative, round 1
Fara
Frogs
Von
Zarabeth
Raakesh
Undetermined event 1
Coco
Mess
Undetermined event 2

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh hesitates for a long moment. He would really like to investigate the sudden changes in the Pit, as the phenomenon somewhat resembles the malleable dreamstuff of Dal Quor, and though he knows he isn't either dreaming or physically in Dal Quor (that was the first thing he checked for when he arrived, of course) it might be similar enough that he could make use of it with his training in dreamscape manipulation.

And he really wouldn't like to go after the frogs. He has no problem with killing--and even if he did, killing mere frogs would be nothing next to hunting Adaran heretics--but he prefers his bone-crushing to be done telekinetically from several paces away, where he won't get blood and viscera all over himself.

He finally decides that a lock-picking attempt would be more likely to succeed than dealing with an unknown phenomenon that he may or may not be able to master in time. And really, this outfit is a lost cause, anyway. He strides over to the swarm, still using his companions as cover, then with an expression of disgust crouches down and lashes out at the nearest frog with his fist.

Raakesh moves to G7 and attacks the swarm.

Unarmed Strike: [roll0]; Damage: [roll1]

[Tyrann]

Raakesh, too, moves over to the swarm and attempts to grab a frog. Unfortunately, the slimy critter proves a bit too slippery. The frog slips away, jumps out of his hand with a nasty croak and disappears into the mass of frogs in the black liquid.

Meanwhile, seemingly out of nowhere, Mess is assaulted by a small ooze that seemed almost perfectly camouflaged in the liquid until now. It's almost like glue, immediately adhering tightly to your skin, slamming you with its bulk as it does so.

That's a smaller version of a Flotsam Ooze. Flotsam Oozes are normally medium sized. This one is small and appears a little damaged. These oozes exude a sticky slime that holds fast any creature or item touching it. They automatically grapple any creature they hit with their slam attack. Opponents so grappled cannot get free while the ooze is alive. The ooze makes one additional slam attack each round against any creature stuck to it.

Flotsam Oozes are transparent in most liquids. This grants them partial concealment (40% miss chance) while inside a liquid. The adhesive substance breaks down 5 rounds after the ooze dies. This ooze shouldn't be able to take too much punishment. Even the medium versions of these can't take much punishment, so you can't imagine that this smaller version will be very durable. But keep in mind that anything it touches will immediately and permanently get stuck, until 5 rounds after it's dead.
Map [Google sheet] (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit?usp=sharing)


Mess please make an opposed grapple check. You need to get a 21 or over, otherwise you take 5 bludgeoning damage.

Initiative, round 1
Fara
Frogs
Von
Zarabeth
Rakesh
Small Flotsam Ooze
Coco
Mess
Undetermined event 2

[Ridai]

Mess screams, slammed against the slimy wall, before shaking the ooze off in panic. Inky fluid splashes everywhere as Mess hurries away from the creature, beginning to scratch at the wall in growing desperation, failing to climb upwards.

Mess tries to move to G3 and "attacks" the wall with their claws.

[Tyrann]

Perhaps it is because Mess is almost entirely covered in the black liquid by now, but even though the ooze did appear to touch them, Mess somehow manages to slip away before the sticky ooze can take hold.

In a panic Mess moves away and scratches at the wall. Their claws are entirely unhindered by the slimy secretion on the walls, and rip through the organic layer beneath that with surprising ease. Mess hasn't made it completely through the wall yet, but has definitely damaged it. Streaks of dark red blood are starting to appear from the gashes, and you can make out something throbbing underneath.

[Xanyo]

Coco glances around and decides to focus on the frogs for now. His raised foot lashes out once, twice, thrice. The inky liquid is splashed about.

"I focus on the frogs," he decides aloud, "Mess on the wall, rest on the shackles."

Attack 1: [roll0] Damage 1: [roll1]
Attack 2: [roll2] Damage 2: [roll3]
Attack 3: [roll4] Damage 3: [roll5]

[Tyrann]

Even without his flames, Coco is more than capable of smashing a few frogs. With every strike, at least ten frogs splatter into who knows how many bits. The liquid is starting to redden and apparently the inside of frog guts doesn't smell at all pleasant. Who knew.

Whatever entity sent this swarm seems displeased by Coco's actions. The swarm's aura deals out retribution. However, as you're all wearing shackles, you are unaffected. The oozes are not. Both of them (because it turns out there were two) burst violently from the liquid, popped into inanimate goblets of sticky goop.

There are still a few frogs alive. But if anyone was looking for bones/parts, there are plenty floating about now.

Map (Google sheet) (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit#gid=0)

Initiative, round 2
Fara
Frogs
Von
Zarabeth
Rakesh
Flotsam Ooze 1 [dead]
Coco
Mess
Flotsam Ooze 2 [dead]

[infomatic]

"This place gets more disgusting by the minute …" Fara murmurs, balefully eyeing the bleeding wall as she making huge swings with her manacled arms in an effort to break up the mass of frogs.


posted in OOC first by mistake; rolls are there

[Tyrann]

Fara manages to squash a few more of the frogs, though enough of the swarm still remains that it could be a threat. Croaking violently, the mass of frogs throws itself onto Coco, but the nimble cat easily dodges the bulk of them.

Map (Google sheet) (https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/13UdOiJGcd60BnJBKqwEEX2In-7zQn33_6zk1lpGLYEk/edit#gid=0)

Initiative, round 2
Fara
Frogs
Von
Zarabeth
Rakesh
Flotsam Ooze 1 [dead]
Coco
Mess
Flotsam Ooze 2 [dead]

[Ridai]

The destruction of the slimes does not even register for Mess, only hearing the splashes and shouts and croaks and wet sounds of creatures getting crushed. Blood splashes onto Mess, quickly covering its chains and arms and front, but fear drives misshapen fingers deeper into the wall. Rapid breathing (overlayed by various voices telling Mess to struggle, from urgent to bemused to disgusted) is interspersed by coughs and gags from the blood, trying to blink it out of their eyes as Mess tears into the barrier.

Claw damage [roll0] [roll1]

[Triskavanski]

Von couldn't get the bracers off his arm by slipping them through the sludge. So he opted instead to do a quick bang of the cuffs to try and get the pins to move into place.


Using Opening Tap, which gives me a -10 to the attempt, but allows me to open locks without tools by banging the lock against a solid object. Like the other bracer.

[roll0] vs DC25

[MikelaC1]

There have been many times in the past when Zarabeth has had to open the strongbox of a cheapskate tavern owner who had conveniently "forgotten" to pay his featured performer...although she usually had better implements to work with, the frog leg will have to do.

[roll0]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh eyes the floating bones, glad that he won't have to try to grab one of those disgusting creatures himself and resigned to getting his hands dirty in the name of freedom. He snatches a likely-looking rib piece (using only his fingertips and keeping them out of the muck as much as possible), inserts the thin end into the lock on his left shackle, and begins working the lock as best as his tool and circumstances allow.

Disable Device check, including the -2 for improvised tools: [roll0] vs. DC 25

[Xanyo]

Coco quickly stomps the frogs out of their pitiful misery, being quick so as to finish them off before anyone gets their shackles off, lest they resemble the remains of the oozes. Once he does that, he glances around at the people fiddling with their locks.

"When you done," he says softly "Please remove my binds."

I doubt I'll need all my attacks, but here they are.
Attack: [roll0] Damage: [roll1]
Attack: [roll2] Damage: [roll3]
Attack: [roll4] Damage: [roll5]
Now, are we still in an antimagic area, or is it just the shackles? Well, I suppose I wouldn't know.

[Tyrann]

Coco destroys what was left of the swarm. A few frogs remain but they disperse into the inky blackness with a last concert of offended croaks.

Zarabeth feels the frog bone snap. Fortunately, she manages to pry it out and the lock isn't ruined, but she's going to have to try again. Raakesh and Von have more luck and manage to finally get out of their shackles.

This isn't a dream or a nightmare; you are not dreaming. However, the room itself does appear to be dreaming. More specifically, it seems to be taking on an idealised version of itself. It sees itself as a stomach.
You try to alter the 'dreamscape', but whatever the entity in here is, its will is completely overpowering. Maybe if you'd been able to patch up your own dreamscape a bit after losing half your mind.. but you've been stuck in shackles since the first night you spent here. You know that if you kept pushing, you would actually get stunned.
The entity in here has a single minded focus on devouring, but that's all it is or can be. It's almost like it's stuck being that. As if the rest of it is missing.

Mess manages to claw into what turns out to be an artery. Just when Mess thought it couldn't get any dirtier.. the artery is like a fire hydrant. The room quakes again with the sound of a massive roar, almost sounding like pain. The good news is, though, that between pulses Mess can see a black void outside, filled with strange transparent streaks of white light floating about.

[MikelaC1]

With no frogs or a swarm to worry about, Zarabeth is able to concentrate more on picking the lock

[roll0]

[Ridai]

The sudden eruption of blood throws Mess of their feet, back into the ink, the poor creature drenched in red and black and gagging from both. Still, even with the messy pulses spilling themselves from the ruptured wall, Mess pushes further in, clawing a way out of this horrible pit, towards whatever light is beyond.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh takes a deep satisfied breath as his shackles loosen and he feels the comforting mental hum of his psionic auras surround him once more. As his extra senses return to him he frowns, noticing details about the room that had escaped him before when they were suppressed. A dreaming room? That can't be, this isn't Dal Quor. And yet.... He shakes his head minutely; escape first, ponder later.

He sticks the shackles through his belt--they may come in handy later--and moves over to Coco to release the other man's shackles as requested; the Inspired carefully opens the lock with his frog rib, leaning against the wall as he does so to steady himself against the shaking. Raakesh is not exactly a charitable individual by nature, but it was drilled into him from an early age to never show weakness in front of one's inferiors and to never be a net drain on resources, so he's glad to be able to contribute something to the greater whole after his poor showing with the frogs.

"The null zone is gone, and any powers you may have should function normally once your restraints are released. Forgive me for exhibiting only a rudimentary command of Khorvarian before," he calls out to the group over the background noise as he finishes with Coco and moves to deal with Fara's and Mess's shackles, now sounding like a native speaker of the flavor of Common that most of the rest of the party speaks. "It's been quite some time since I last spoke it, and I'm a bit rusty."

Once he helps Mess off the floor and releases their shackles, he watches over their shoulder as they tear into the wall. "Do any of you have any idea what those lights might be?"

[MikelaC1]

Freed of her restraints and once again able to access her spells, Zarabeth's buffs are quickly back in place, Greater Mage Armor, Greater Resistance and for good measure, a False Life. She has plenty of other protections up her sleeve, but they are more short term and situational...these ones are her go-to defaults

No idea about the lights, but wherever they are, they arent here and thats got to be better.

[Xanyo]

As the shackles splash to the ground, Coco smiles. Lifting his hands, they burst into flame. He smiles at them a moment before putting them back out. He then crouches and pulls the shackles from the "water".

"These shackles be helpful later, maybe," the cat muses, "I greater I."

He closes his eyes and focuses for some time.
Putting my (bi-)daily buffs up.

[Ridai]

Mess feels themselves being dragged out of the ink, shaking as someone grabs them by the wrists. They hear the click of opened locks, something slipping into the liquid. When they are able to blink most of the stinging ink from their eyes, the shackles are gone, bruised and bloodied wrists laid bare. Eyes grow wide, mouth gaping in a soundless scream. Mess dives into the ink, splashing around, choking and caughing from the liquid.

"Where- where is it- where" Mess stammers to themselves, fruitlessly searching, the layers mocking "Look look look, time is running out" "Oh, here it comes!"

Mess screams in pain, the ruin of their back beginning to shift, wet fleshy noises heard from their body. Wild eyed, Mess still fails to find what they are looking for, hit by another spike of pain, before looking to the others present, staring at them. Suddenly, they rush forward, pressing a hand against Raakesh, then quickly heading to the next, as the sounds of tearing flesh and breaking bones begin. Just in time, the last of them is touched, something erupting from Mess' back the next moment, showering their surroundings with blood and pieces of flesh. Wings unfold, grotesque in shape, not quite leathery, not quite feathered, not quite like the ones of an insect, hard to tell where one begins and the other ends. The screaming begins, many voices coming from one throat, disease flowing from it and across the surface of the liquid, Mess' body shifting and turning, misshaping and reshaping itself as they are lifted out of the liquid.

Fire and thunder scream across the surface, engulfing the others in their chaos, pouring from Mess' mouth and wounds. Tentacles erupt from the black, thrashing about and freezing what they touch. The primal sensation of fear carries from a louder, deeper scream into the minds of the others, maddening whispers telling them their freedom lies in the guts of their companions, waiting to be unearthed with red hands. All of a sudden, the chaos ends, Mess splashign back into the ink. The others find themselves entirely unharmed despite just having been in the middle of whatever just happened.

The silver-and-void is the first thing to be seen as Mess slowly managed to lift themselves back out of the liquid, standing crooked, misshapen (and strangely ethereal flickering) wings folded against their back. The creature, drenched, looks positively miserable as it glances to the others before directing their eyes down to the black surface, a translucent blue chain collar tight around their neck. Without another word (though with very quiet unintelligible whispers near them), they walk to the tear in the wall. Mess' lower lip quivers before they suddenly shout in a twisted choir, the tear in the wall suddenly ripping itself open further, followed by a burst of flame, cauterizing the wound and filling the air with the stench of burnt blood and flesh. Black smoke drips from a corner of their mouth as they walk through the widened gap.

Everyone is now under effect of Endure Exposure, making them immune to Mess' breath weapon and granting them the effects of Endure Elements.

Planar Ward is back online, the invocations Beguiling Influence, Draconic Flight, Dark One's Own Luck (keyed to Reflex), Entropic Warding, and Void Sense are activated.

Mess uses Baleful Utterance and their breath weapon to widen the tear in the wall.

[Triskavanski]

Von does what he can to try and collect any of the discarded bracers, after all, you never know when you might need to shackle someone or something. If nothing else, the bracers could be used in a defensive fashion. He leaves one on his arm, while keeping the other off, enough to disrupt the anti-magical properties of the bracers. He pauses staring at Mess.

"Well, aren't you just a bit freaky deeky." shrugging he looks to the opening. "Well, I don't see any of us climbing up the walls anytime soon, might as well go into the breech and see what may become of things. Oh right! one of you can fly now, but he takes a look up then back to the hole "We'd have to go through the enemy up there and all that spitting. Seriously who spits acid? I guess green and black dragons, but honestly."

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh watches Mess's transformation with puzzlement and more than a bit of admiration. Where most humans would find the resulting creature fearsome or disgusting, Raakesh has had enough of his quori's personality bleed into his over the years that he finds the wings and tentacles almost beautiful--and if he was interested in the opportunity she represented before, seeing the multiple-possession in action only increases that. For the millionth time he feels a pang of loneliness and emptiness as Mess's hybridized form reminds him of his lost Tsekesh, and for the millionth time he ruthlessly suppresses the useless emotion.

He looks down at the oozing slime on his boots, clothes, and hands, and briefly concentrates. His feet rise slightly so that he is standing on the surface of the muck rather than in it, and most of the substance slides off his body, leaving only stains on his clothing that he can deal with later. Feeling much more civilized, he strides over to join Mess and Von, saying "Two of us can fly now, actually, and I can arrange for the rest of you to fly if necessary. However, I agree that we have a greater likelihood of success against a potential environmental danger here than with a known enemy force up there. And speaking of acid..."

Raakesh concentrates again when he reaches the gap and a fist-sized sphere of a silvery substance appears in midair next to him, a mass of ectoplasm mentally condensed from another plane and given physical existence. It quickly expands in size and is bent and squeezed into different shapes like a giant ball of clay being sculpted by unseen hands, eventually taking on the appearance of a strange chimeric creature: it almost has the lower body of a centipede, the head of a spider, the arms of a lobster, and swords for hands, but everything about the parts is subtly wrong and the creature's shape slowly writhes and ripples as if uncomfortable holding one shape for too long. Its sword-hands drip with a greenish fluid that hisses when it strikes the floor, the aforementioned acid.

The Inspired smiles, glad to see the familiar form of a tsoreva quori; even if it's only a memory made temporarily real and not the genuine article, it still reminds him of home. The crystals embedded in his arms begin to resonate with psionic energy, and if one looks at Raakesh out of the corner of one's eyes, for a moment one might think he looks like that strange creature too.

The construct extends one blade-hand into the gap to hold it open, like one might hold a door open for one's superiors, and Raakesh steps up to get a better look through it. "After you," he says, gesturing politely to Von. He doesn't follow Mess and Von out immediately, though; no matter how useful both of them might be to him, if something dangerous is out there it's best for the others to take the brunt of the harm first.

Raakesh manifests adapt body (9 PP) and psionic overland flight (11 PP), each of which will last for 12 hours. He sets his ectoplasmic armor shards to a +4 AC bonus, so he has a very faint quori-looking outline at the moment.

He then manifests astral construct for a 5th-level construct (9 PP) with the Energy Touch (Acid), Extra Attack, Heavy Deflection, and Pounce menu abilities, which will last for 13 minutes; he takes 10 on the Craft (Sculpting) check to change its appearance, for a result of 26.

Current PP: 312/341

[Tyrann]

Between Mess' screech cutting through the wound and Raakesh' astral construct, the hole in the 'wall' is easily large enough for any of you to fit through. The first thing you probably notice as you lean out is that the gravitational pull outside is off by a few degrees compared to the gravity on the stomach, though it is comparable in strength and 'down' is still sort of down.

When looking out and looking at the streaks of light more closely, you notice they appear to be 'see-through people', completely motionless like statues, that hover around the stomach in an orbit.

You recognize some of these. They're people that went into the pit before you. The strange thing is, they came out.

The stomach itself seems to just hang from nothing in a void that goes on as far as any of you can see in all directions, except for down (the gravitational down outside the stomach).

About 200 feet below you is a sheet of silver. It might be a mirror. Or it might be really, really tranquil water. It's hard to tell interacting with it. Like the void, it goes on as far as any of you can see.

[Ridai]

Mess steps out into the void, wanting to be out of the pit, floating in the air. The wings flicker at times, sometimes moving too slowly to reasonably keep anything aloft, sometimes skipping parts of their motions, other times looking like they are in multiple positions of their motions at once. The lights are given a wide berth, and Mess in general keeps their arms close to their chest, shoulders raised, nervously looking about. Outside of the liquid, Mess' body is visible, dressed in scant rags drenched in the liquid, and seemingly as androgynous (or ambiguous, depending on one's perspective) as what was visible of them before, their anatomy and heritage unclear. Scales are visible at times, as are oddly glistening and feathery little parts, among others.

As the "mirror" is the only thing there, Mess starts to float down to it, and when they get close enough, they (on the third attempt) muster up the courage to briefly touch the surface with a toe. While ready to quickly fly back up if something bad happens.

[MikelaC1]

Zarabeth has no way to fly, her magic is very battle focused, and the idea of stepping out into a void without any way to control where she goes is not something she is going to just jump into

[infomatic]

She feels her mind open again as the bands slip off and she nods her thanks, wordlessly, as she massages her wrists where the manacles had cinched up painfully. Even with the thoughts of the others present, her head still feels a bit empty without another consciousness inside it, and this pit didn't seem to have anything to write with, or on. But a few quick breaths have her body feeling better, at least.

Her eyes widen at Mess' transformation, at first concerned that this was yet another grotesque threat concocted by this prison, but she relaxes as it launches itself through the walls and her eyes follow it down to the shimmering plane below.

She gestures toward the translucent figures. "No one comes out of the Red Pit the same," she says. "Perhaps because they don't really come out at all."


Put up Mind Blank, Personal (13 pp)
Vigor 3pp +3 Wild surge (enervation check 16+ is good: [roll0] ) 30 hp for 16 minutes

[roll1] spot, [roll2] Int.




Current HP: 36/120 + 30 = 76/120
AC: 13
Touch: 13
Flat Footed: 9
Fort: 11
Refl: 8
Will: 9
AB Melee (unarmed): 14/9
AB Ranged: 14/9
Current PP: 132/132 @+4 Cha, ML 13
Ongoing buffs: Vigor (16min), Mind Blank (1 day)
Ongoing debuffs:
Special: Stripped of gear. No vestige currently bound.

[Tyrann]

Mess approaches the mirror-like surface, and sees a perfect reflection of everything above. The stomach, the others peering out of the hole, the lights, the void, and Mess themselves. Carefully, Mess touches the mirror with a toe. Gentle ripples appear, as you might see when throwing a pebble into a pool of tranquil water. Mess is gone. To the rest of you, it appeared as though Mess went through the surface and kept on going. You don't see them anymore now.

You touch the surface and see the ripples appear. The scenery in the mirror blurs,. and then changes to a large cavernous underground silver lake. Far above you, the ceiling of this room is filled with silvery tiny dots, like stars in a night sky. When you look closer, you see the ceiling is lit up by tiny droplets of silver, like dew on a leaf

Once every few seconds, a droplet drops down, breaking the surface of the liquid below with a harmonious echoing 'plop' and sending ripples across the silver lake.

Whenever a droplet breaks the surface, you can very briefly see parts of the Bastion of Last Hope. The bazaar, the prisons, one of the rows you were dragged through, an apparentment you've never seen before. People going about their business. A merchant selling illicit goods. A warden beating up a prisoner. Another warden archiving evidence. A tiefling feeding pet scorpions. An urchin stealing bread. Each of these scenes only lasts seconds before disappearing.

In the middle of the lake (you started off to a side) is an orb-like island of smooth rock with a row of what appears to be thin stalagmites going right across the middle.

If you touch the lake again, you find it has a bottom. It appears to just be a pool of water, about 20 feet deep, with some underground stalagmites, though not in any pattern like you see on the island. The bottom is all mirror-like, like it's been polished.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Definitely a good thing someone else went first, Raakesh thinks, somewhat uncharitably. He steps through the hole and stands in midair for a moment, then slowly floats down until he is hovering about 40 feet above the surface of the lake-mirror-thing below. He stretches out with his telepathic senses to their fullest extent, and directs a thought to his companion's mind only: <Mess, this is Raakesh. Are you alive? If so, are you in danger or do you require assistance to return? If not, describe your surroundings.>

Raakesh is scanning for Mess with his Mindsight, which should reach up to 20 feet past the surface if it's not a portal or the like. Can he sense them?

[Triskavanski]

"Yeah.. Its a big drop down there. Not sure we should quite do that just yet."


[roll0] Int
[roll1] spot

[Ridai]

If it weren't for the voices in and around their head and the vicious sights in the ripples (and reflexively wincing whenever a drop hits the creature), Mess may have been able to enjoy a moment of relative peace, the wings adding delayed ripples sent into the wrong directions. They float over to the island to take a look at it and have some nearby land when they carefully dip a toe into the water. If it is safe, they soon submerge themselves, rather being wet with water than with inky stomach juices, touching the mirror-like bottom in the process.

They look up to the ceiling. The stomach is not there anymore. Mess should probably try to see if they can get back there (perhaps the ceiling is not real?), bring the others with them. They would not have liked being left behind in their place.

[Tyrann]

Raakesh' mindsight most of the time does not see Mess. Sometimes, for a very brief moment, Mess appears somewhere in your mindsight. Then, they're gonem, and reappear somewhere else a while later. There are moments when there are even two Messes, briefly stuttering in and out of vision.

Mess, as you move about, there are some spots where you can hear Raakesh' thoughts. You have to stay almost completely still or you lose the connection, and even then the connection is broken as soon as the next droplet lands.

It takes some time and effort, but you can communicate. Raakesh and Mess please both roll a will save.

You've heard of a hypothesis that says that if space somehow got shredded, phenomena like this might occur. It's not quite the same as teleportation, which makes use of the ethereal plane as a shortcut. You're not exactly sure how it works, but you do know the hypothesis was never actually tested because no wizard or psion on your home planes had enough power to actually shred a plane.

You're fairly familiar with this theory, you might have even written a paper about it at some point. The hypothesis is that an actual chunk of plane is missing, which leaves two planar borders of the same plane. The two adjacent borders can briefly connect by adding energy to either border. At that point, the distance dividing the two planar borders would only be mere feet, because the space in between doesn't actually exist anymore. There is still such a thing as a planar boundary, though, which requires a bit of energy to overcome. In a way, it's like a plane-shift effect that only requires a tiny bit of energy.

Cleaving a plane - i.e. actually deleting part of reality - requires an insane amount of energy. This is the stuff of deities, titans, primordials or their more evil counterparts.

Now that you get closer to the island in the middle of the room, you notice there's a crevice in between the stalagmites. And there appears to be something moving underneath the rock? Almost like.. the eye of someone who's dreaming? It moves more the closer you get.

Touching the polished mirror-ground beneath the surface doesn't do anything. You can still see the scenes in the drops play out if you look up. Just inverted and a bit less clear.

[Ridai]

Surfacing, feeling a little cleaner, Mess gets closer to the crevice, thoroughly creeped out, but needing to find some way to make sense of where this place is and how to connect back to where the stomach was in space. Can't leave the others behind.

It actually takes Mess a long while to realize Raakesh is speaking to them, yet another voice in their head, with the others whispering their usuals of whether they should trust or not trust or not even care or questioning their sanity. Trying to focus on the voice, Mess thinks "back".

Raakesh at first gets no answer from Mess for a while, only to suddenly be greeted with a loud cacophony of voices (and he can't be sure what they say, though his mind keeps wanting to glean maddening meaning from it all) that then get (mostly) suppressed to a low-ish volume, with Mess speaking amidst them (though the voices still layer theirs). However, their voice feels a lot more... comfortable now (and unnerving at the same time, despite that not making any sense).

"Alive. Sh-shredded space. I guess like... looking in on the plane from the outside... sometimes. Looks like a cave with a lake here. And an eye. I think."

Brief pause. Mess has no idea how to get back to the others. But they could come here.

"You could jump to get here. Don't know how to get out of here yet, though..."

Will save [roll0]

[PairO'Dice Lost]

The onslaught of telepathic voices reminds Raakesh of a psionic metaconcert, though highly undisciplined where a proper Inspired metaconcert would be one unified whole, and he winces mentally at the telepathic chaos. He briefly considers trying to interrogate one of the individual voices he hears to gain more insight into Mess's...unique circumstances, but reluctantly files it under the ever-growing category of "survive now, study later" like everything else in this damned Khyber-hole.

When he hears about "shredded space" and "outside the plane," Raakesh, who regularly treats with nightmare beings and is totally unfazed by the appearance of slimy tentacled monsters, feels a trickle of fear go down his spine. Living terrain, a semi-conscious plane, pockets of normality surrounded by impossible planar physics...il-altas preserve me, could this be...Xoriat? He gives himself a mental shake. No, no, if this is Xoriat than we're doomed already, so I have to proceed under the assumption that we are not in imminent danger of sudden and irreversible insanity. Still...best not to go through that mirror surface just yet.

To Mess, he sends <I think it's best that we not join you until we know whether we need to help retrieve you. I'm going to send a construct down to test something; let me know if you see one come through.> With a brief instant of concentration, the Inspired manifests another construct, though this one he leaves as a mere featureless sphere of ectoplasm with wings, since it doesn't feel right to use even a false quori as a disposable scout. Once formed, the construct drops down to the mirrored surface and tries to go through.

Will save: [roll0]

Assuming he isn't prevented from acting by failing the Will save, Raakesh manifests a basic 1st-level construct (1 PP) with the Buff, Deflection, Fly, and Swim menu abilities. He's mostly trying to see whether the surface only affects living/ensouled creatures and whether it's possible for it to come back through.

Current PP: 311/341

[Tyrann]

Mess you feel a bit of a rumble. It's hard to tell from under the water, but it seems like the eye may have blinked.

Raakesh, your Astral Construct disappears as it touches the mirror-like surface. You can't tell where it went, because your mindsight can't see astral constructs (they don't have an int score). You do, however, see three outsiders appear. Each is of average intelligence for a human (10 int) and they flicker in and out of being around what you perceive to be Mess. Each of these beings strikes you as being quasi-real. Like an illusion that was somehow infused with a tiny bit of actual reality.

Mess, you see three shadowy Imps and two shadowy Lemures approaching you from the eye-island. Each one only appears partially real. Like a shadow-infused illusion. They don't fully reach you though, because suddenly they get distracted by the arrival of an Astral Construct, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

We can play this out in the theatre of the mind, because you both passed your will saves, so these aren't a threat at all. Whatever you want to do to them, you can assume you pull it off, no problem.

[Ridai]

Mess shrinks away from the shadow fiends, and especially from the strange sphere with wings as it appears. A startled noise escapes Mess, the sound very quickly amplifying until the sheer volume and pressure of it screams across the eyeland, engulfing the fiends and sending violent resonant ripples through the water. To Raakesh, it is like a burst of nasty feedback. The remains of four of the fiends are scattered across the water surface, ripped apart before quickly dissolving into shadow stuff, while the lucky survivor suddenly is engulfed by tentacles rushing out of the water below, dragging it down. There are splashes at first, then only a spreading darker hue and floating frozen chunks, which both soon disintegrate as well.

"Th-there's a ball with w-wings here!" "Kill it, kill it, make its angles all wrong" "Wake it, scream louder"

Always keeping an eye on the ball, Mess flies towards the stone eye in a trajectory hopefully not taking them any closer to the ball, arms always close to the chest, both hands covering their mouth after what just happened. The creature shakes and shivers as it goes closer to the creepy eye, just wanting to leave... but they can't leave the others behind. Curious mental hands reach out, feeling for any magic on the eye and the surrounding land, forcing the information into Mess' head.

Thunder Breath followed by Chilling Tentacles, fired by accident by a startled Mess.

Magic Insight to detect magic on the eye-island.

[Tyrann]

Mess: As you concentrate, you feel an overpowering aura wash over your mind. After a few seconds of fine-tuning your senses, you realize there are in fact several auras present. One stacked layer of auras of overpowering strength from the island, and several auras of moderate strength from the droplets that land in the water. After still a few more seconds of concentrating, you notice that droplets hitting the water create a conjuration effect. The island in the middle has overpowering auras of several schools: conjuration, enchantment, illusion, necromancy and universal.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

<The winged sphere is my construct, the one I mentioned. There is nothing to be afraid of,> Raakesh assures Mess telepathically, suppressing a wince at the "volume" of Mess's psychic shout. <Just continue exploring and let me know if you discover anything notable.> He's not sure why Mess would find the construct frightening; who could possibly find an aesthetically-neutral task-optimized construct to be fearsome? It doesn't have a fanged maw or taloned limb or...hmm, or any facial features or limbs at all, actually, and Raakesh belatedly realizes why someone else might find that disturbing. Ah, well. Can't be helped now.

Before Raakesh can gather his will to obliterate the unknown and possibly threatening intelligences, Mess takes care of that themself, so he instead directs his attention to the rest of his compatriots. <This is Raakesh,> he begins, in case they don't immediately recognize his mental voice, and continues, <I have positive and negative information. The positive is that Mess appears to be alive and unharmed on the other side of this...phenomenon. And my construct went through unharmed as well, so it does not appear to be the kind of portal that sends living beings to one destination and equipment to another. The negative is that Mess is not sure whether it's possible to return through the phenomenon, so if our equipment is somewhere here>--he sends a brief sensory pulse, the telepathic equivalent of waving vaguely in the air to indicate the void around them--<then going through may prevent us from retrieving it.

<Do we have a consensus on whether we should follow Mess through or attempt to retrieve them and keep exploring here?> Raakesh doesn't need their permission or approval to proceed with a course of action, obviously, though their input may be useful. It's just that, well, he's used to always having another being in his mind (plus usually dozens of others in the physical world) with whom to discuss plans, and the Unity highly values consensus-building as the most efficient form of decision-making among equals, so deciding something purely on his own feels...wrong, somehow.

[Ridai]

Unsure what to make of the plethora of magics, Mess' natural first reaction is to avoid it. They fly up to the ceiling, trying to see if they can somehow go back through it, though they harbor little hope for that. Only if that fails a few times do they glide back down and, for the lack of a more sophisticated means of analyze and interacting with a strange phenomenon, tentatively poke at the stone eye once.

[Xanyo]

Coco crouches on the edge of the surface he stands on, looking down at the phenomenon. Ears rotated, he tips his head and hesitantly answers.

"Maybe," he speaks slowly, "Can it, can Mess, try to come back? To know."

He then starts trying to get the gunk out of his fur, wiping with his hands rather. What a mess.

"Was this," he asks, gesturing to the area about, particularly around the pit, "this when us were took here?"

[Triskavanski]

Von takes the time to try and remove the collar around his neck next with one of the frog bones he say the others using. "Well, in that case.. I'd suggest gathering up what we can if we're going through. It'll take some time but I can help rebuild stuff but It'll take some time and money to do.. Provided there is even a place on the otherside I can go to. If not.. I could do somethings from above with it too."

[Tyrann]

Getting closer to the ceiling, Mess notices the 'droplets' are like silvery drops of dew. They're tiny, but when looking closer, Mess can tell that each droplet contains a scene or a location.
The moment Mess realizes this, the voices inside their head start to struggle for dominance over each other, because 'they want to see, too'. Interestingly, amidst the mental assault, Mess notices that the scene in the droplet changes depending on the 'voice' that looks at it. The singing angelic voice sees a merchant hand a child half a loaf of bread. The paranoid voice sees a woman holding her breath, hiding underneath a hatch in a hidden basement, hand over her mouth as she listens. The voice hoarse with hellfire sees a large half-orc brutally beating up a middle aged human who is no longer able to fight back. The deep and dignified voice that refuses to roar anything but draconic sees a single table in a dark library, lit only by an odd looking candle that burns green.

Once the droplet drops, the last scene Mess saw in the drop becomes visible in the pool of water below.

As you draw nearer to the eye again, you see it blink again, and a few shadowy demons appear a second time. You reflexively defend yourself again, no problem. For a moment, you saw the actual eye. It looks demonic, like a goat's or a frog's, its pupil a deep vortex of shadow.

https://images.pond5.com/closeup-view-goat-eye-iris-footage-071053471_iconm.jpeg


You teleport, though always to another part of the room you're in.


You see them, floating about or still standing in black gunk inside the stomach thing.
that[/I] droplet]You end up floating just above the stomach, back with the others.

[Ridai]

Mess clutches their head as the voices rage and change what they see. The eye opening and another set of demons appearing is more than enough to startle Mess into no longer approaching, moving away from it, then suddenly getting teleported through the cave. Confused, they look around. They think of the others again, not wanting to leave them behind... and not wanting to get left behind by them. And they start seeing them. Once again, they need to build up the courage to touch the surface, only to suddenly appear back in that wretched stomach.

The harried looking Mess hovers over the burning inky liquid, ethereal wings flickering their unsteady rhythm. "Th-the water in that cave lets you see and... and go where you think of."

[MikelaC1]

Never a person to be sitting around while others are doing things, Zarabeth is getting rather impatient about the progress so far. Are you able to communicate with that other person, and did he get harmed by going...well, wherever it was he went? Its not going to take much to make Zarabeth jump into the water if it leads away from here.

[Ridai]

"Did... did someone else go?" Mess asks with visible confusion.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Raakesh relays Mess's words to the rest of his compatriots and theirs to Mess, long used to serving as a sort of telepathic relay on missions with other Dreaming Dark agents. The Inspired sends brief message pulses to the group, each with a subtle psychic overlay to indicate to whose statement each is a response. He is slightly frustrated by the lack of coordination that comes with working alongside four independent individuals instead of functioning as a single cohesive group. Having to discuss things, consider points, vote on courses of action, instead of simply knowing what must be done...but he's sure that the coordination will come in time. Or he hopes, at least.

Replying to Coco, <I have no idea what the outside of this Pit may have looked like while we were within the complex; I have my hypotheses as to its nature, but no evidence yet. Mess seems unable to return at this point, but they may be able to provide more information when they complete their scouting.> Replying to Von, <I doubt this ooze and debris would serve as suitable raw materials, but if you think it would, I can provide constructs to gather and carry it.> Replying to Zarabeth, <Yes, we remain in contact, and Mess seems unharmed, for now. We are unlikely to be in immediate danger if we join them.> Replying to Mess, <Ah, welcome back. Zarabeth was referring to you, I think, and seems unused to interacting with composite beings. I'm sure she means no offense.>

<Coco, you feel hesitant to go through, and Zarabeth, you seem eager to do so, judging by your respective emotional harmonics. What can we do to resolve your uncertainty and reach consensus? Given that we now know that it is not a dead end, I assume there are no further objections to passing through?>

[Xanyo]

Coco looks up at the returned Mess.

"I concerns are done," he assures this leader-type guy, "I am ready to go. I not did know if we can return, but Mess am here. I can get down."

He turns to Zarabeth.

"You?"

[Ridai]

Mess is puzzled by why Raakesh says Zarabeth offended them, actually wincing at being called a composite being. Since the others are thinking of going through, Mess thinks back to that cave.

"I don't know if we can get anywhere else from that... place. I saw moments from elsewhere in the fortress in the water when my voices pushed for what they wanted to see, but when I touched the water, I was teleported to elsewhere in the cave. When I thought about you all, saw you in the water, and touched it, I came back here. But there were also shadow creatures and that scary... eye." Mess rambles somewhat, trying to recall something useful to the group. "Maybe if... maybe if someone can bring us to the shadow plane, we could go from there?"

Relaying DM information to hopefully help the game progress

[MikelaC1]

If we all went through and concentrated on our gear, maybe we could be teleported to where it is? I mean, obviously getting out is the final end game, but our chances of doing that would be better if we had our equipment, no?

[Ridai]

"We can see everything we think about... I think. I don't know if we could teleport there, I could only teleport back here. Maybe because this... stomach is next to that place?" "Shredded space, shredded people" "Someone lost their toys" Mess winces at the layered voices, wishing they would not undermine everything all the time.

"Maybe... maybe we can try teleport to our things, a-and if that doesn't work, we try to think of where they are and think a path leading there...?" "Panting and sweating as you run through the hallways."

[MikelaC1]

We should try that then. And can someone just jump down or should those of us who cant fly be carried?

[Ridai]

"The... the water is about... 20 feet deep, I think, with some stalagmites. I'm not sure if you get teleported to the cave with your falling speed. If not, it should be fine, I think." "Nothing to worry about, sweetling." Ghostly faint laughter follows. Mess really wishes they would stop. Since the others are hesitant about just jumping in (and who could blame them), Mess volunteers.

"I-I'll go try it and tell you." With that, Mess goes through the hole in the side of the pit, flies down to perhaps 20 feet above the mirror surface, and lets themself fall, ready to try and stop themselves if they enter the cave with their falling velocity. Through the telepathic link, Raakesh hears screams and laughter from the mental dissonant chorus before Mess reports their findings.

While the others decide how to get down there, Mess attempts to think about the objects they once had to perhaps get an idea where they are, and tries to "think away" from those, attempting to explore the area and find a path there from the Pit.

[Triskavanski]

"Well, I could make a rope. Don't exactly have anything to tie it to.. but I have a feeling that doesn't entirely matter." He remarks looking over the edge again.

[Tyrann]

Mess finds that there is no preservation of speed as they 'teleport' [OOC: it's more like a Plane Shift effect]. They do, however, fall unless they start flying, because they are teleported above the water.

When Mess thinks of their gear, they see a pedestal in front of a white void that seems to go on forever. On the pedestal it says in glowing red draconic: 'Hyperbolic Chamber 3 - Evidence Storage - Please touch pedestal to start session'. Thinking their way out of the evidence storage room is problematic. There is a huge sealed vault door in the way that is almost impossible to 'think through'.

[Ridai]

"You don't preserve speed when going through, but you will still fall into water." Mess relays, along with the impression they got from this chamber. Then, they try to think of "hyperbolic chambers" or "evidence storage" in hopes of finding what that sealed gate connects to.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

<It seems safe for us to proceed; thank you for the information, Mess. Let's all head down,> Raakesh says, pleased that a consensus has finally been reached. Mentally "looking" between Zarabeth and Von, he adds, <And some wings would probably be more convenient than a rope.> He looks back up at the entrance to where they both stood and, with a brief effort of will, manifests two more silvery constructs.

These two have a more streamlined insectile body shape, very thin torsos with two pairs of wings on the back and three pairs of thick gripping arms on the front--and keeping in mind Mess's reaction to the faceless utilitarian construct before, he takes care to sculpt them with obvious eyes and without the claws, mandibles, or spines he would use on his more combat-capable manifestations. As the two constructs flit over to Von and Zarabeth and spread their arms patiently in a welcoming gesture, he explains <Step into the constructs' reach and they will carry you down once they get a good grip,> then flies down through the surface to join Mess.

Raakesh manifests two 1st-level constructs (1 PP each) with Fly and Muscle, so they have Str 19 and should be able to carry their respective "riders" easily.

Current PP: 309/341

[MikelaC1]

Zarabeth steps closer to the construct, waiting to be carried down to the next level. Naked enough without the buffs those few minutes ago, Zarabeth's weapons are as much a part of her attire as her clothes, and she cant wait to get them back from whoever stole them. And hopefully give them a lesson about taking her stuff.

[Triskavanski]

Von moves to get on the construct himself as well after creating a bag to carry the arm bands and collars he was able to get "Well this is far more useful."

Using Minor Creation unless the rags we have are not plant matter