Nulli Dei. Nulli Domini. [IC]

[ylvathrall]

It's a cold, god-forsaken autumn morning when you gather around the table in Dharmesh's sitting room, in his Vudrani mansion. The table has various platters of food and pitchers of drinks on it, all excellent, but the attention is very solidly not on them, because the topic of conversation today is a deadly serious one.

Two cities, all but wiped out by monsters. And if the pattern holds, the next one will be stronger still, and it will show up tomorrow, in about thirteen hours. It goes without saying that you will intervene - regardless of your personal feelings on the topic, you are the ones who will be blamed if another city is destroyed. In long years of war you learned many things, but you are not so powerful that you're in a rush to make the entire world justifiably angry at you.

Intervention, however, is not as easy as it might sound. It's impossible to say which city will be hit - the previous two were on different continents. Divinations have not returned any clear answers on where to expect to be attacked, or what kind of attacker to plan for. You should get notification by sending soon after the attack starts, but between generalized chaos and the casting time of the spell, it will not be instant. Regardless of how quick you are to respond, you will be showing up after the destruction has already started.

For now, though, you are making your final plans, preparations, and such. There will be time for the chaos soon enough.

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh is sitting in his usual chair, his typical friendly demeanor clouded by stress, looking at the others around the table. "While it is always pleasant to have guests, I do wish it was under different circumstances. I have not seen such a large scale of destruction since the war against Rovagug. Do any of you have any ideas on how to effectively kill whatever is coming? Perhaps the next attack will see the burning tortoise return, we should be prepared to put out a blaze. Any thoughts?" Dharmesh looks around at the others expectantly.

[Hjolnai]

Beset by frustration, Tolben paces relentlessly.

"All my divinations have revealed nothing. Why did this wretched crisis have to show up now? I'm so close to understanding... it's setting me back by weeks!"

He subsides, and finally takes a seat.

"At least it has brought us all together again. I've missed you. As usual, I'll focus on making the enemy vulnerable - when it shows its ugly head."

[QuidEst]

Mycetes, a giant fungally infested wolf the size of a moose, is lying on his side on the ground. Vauma is seated on his side, slowly bobbing up and down with the wolf's breathing. She seems calm and unconcerned. "Mmm. It would be good if we could figure out if it's the tortoise or not," she muses. "If it's the tortoise, I can set up a rain storm. If it's not the tortoise, we can make a wicker effigy around the corpse of the kaiju we did kill, and I can lay a curse down on it. I doubt an effigy curse is going to stick, but…" she shrugs. "It seems likely to distract it. Ah… but we don't know where it's going to hit. I don't suppose any of you can teleport a dead kaiju?" she asks. "Hmm, too big for transmutations to handle, I think. Well, we can always let Aiva know there's going to be a kaiju to hunt." Vauma’s first solution being efficient corpse use comes as no surprise.

[TheOneHawk]

"You set 'em up, I'll knock 'em down. Just like we always do," Damien says to Tolben with a grin. He's leaning back, seemingly perfectly relaxed in a large overstuffed chaise lounge sofa. "Really, though I don't see what the big deal is. Both attacks were big uglies, we've killed how many of those over the years? We literally fought against the most powerful minions of Rovagug and Lamashtu and we're the ones still standing, not them." He leans forward and grabs a small piece of fish from the table, far from his first, and tosses it into his mouth. "Anyways, what are these, Dharmesh? They're really fantastic."

[The Glyphstone]

"I'm with Damien here. Anything dies if you put enough holes into it."

The lanky, hatchet-faced Ulfen leaning against the wall and holding perfectly still smiles, though the words aren't coming from his mouth. Instead, the cheerful if strongly accented Ulfen woman's voice comes from the ornately carved and decorated crossbow strapped to his side. It was a sign of the close company that Greta was speaking out loud at all, rather than communicating telepathically or simply feigning non-sapience.

"You're not wrong, dearest. But we can't shoot something if we don't know what to aim at or where it is, and that's the obstacle here." Ragnar flexes his muscles to stretch, briefly disappearing and reappearing sporadically for a span of several seconds. "Overall it's a practical sentiment Damien and my sister share - we know we can take down this next behemoth, we're just stuck waiting helplessly until it rears its ugly head."

[Sepulchritude]

"I think," opened Shovash, sounding a little bored. She was making good progress on the fish, though—not a lot of open water in the badlands. "—that we have seen two attacks. Two is a curiosity, not a pattern, and even if this is the beginning of a larger problem, a strict clock sounds decidedly Hellish. Asmodeus withdrew more than just his personal meddling; has there been any sign of increased activity from the Dukes?"

The witch paused long enough to empty a lobster tail with her teeth, a few seconds at most, and gave a sigh too pleased to be made with her eyes open. "So far, even assuming you wetnurses are right and we are on the verge of another terrible battle, we have no idea what to expect or where. The absolute best we can do is prepare a counteroffensive. I've put my other projects on hold for the moment, so if Vauma and Tolben have readied a broadly useful set of spells, we'll arrive at the speed of a sending, as well-prepared as possible. And that will give us more information to draw real conclusions from. Now eat up; you think you'll need your strength." She, of course, wasted no more time doing otherwise. If the past few years were anything to go by, odds were good she was eating for two, anyway.

[QuidEst]

Vauma shrugs. "It's giant monsters, so it sounds like Lamashtu. It's giant animals, so it sounds like the fey. One of them was on fire, the other could fly, so it sounds like… whoever's big on the elemental planes." She isn't eating the food- she hasn't eaten food in ages. "Well, we should get some work done before we rest and replenish ourselves. Hmm. Aiva's probably interested for her own sake, and Carreau would probably welcome the chance to save lives. I can write up messages if somebody can deliver them. If we get them all together, then it's less teleporting tomorrow. If anyone can think of way we can get more advance notice, it's ten minutes for me to grow catapults."

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash rolled her eyes. The horizontal pupils, like a vine snake, looked a bit like exaggerated frowns at that angle, but she had half a smile on her lips. "Yeeeees, I realize. That's my point, though. We're all worked up because the timing happened to seem important to the way time runs, on this plane. But without some other suspicious coincidence, there's no real reason to think it was anything but random. We're leaping at shadows."

[ylvathrall]

Regardless of Shovash's doubts, the sendings are cast. Aiva's response is simple: "Sounds like good prey. One hour. Bring fish." Carreau's is even shorter: "See you soon."

The scrying and teleport are just as simply done. You arrive at Aiva's camp, fish in hand, to find the wolf-woman hunched over a campfire, next to a simple tent pitched in a forest clearing. She looks like an ordinary hunter, not at all like one of the world's deadliest predators - until you start to notice things like the quality and magic of her gear, or the coiled strength in her lean muscles, or the crimson sheen across her eyes.

She looks at the party with an expression that suggests she is considering whether they would taste better raw or seared, but makes no hostile moves. "Been a while," she says. "So. Kaiju? What's that?"

[AscendingApe]

Clearing his throat and taking a sip of water, Dharmesh begins to respond to the others, first turning to Vauma. "I can in fact teleport a portion of the dead one, would a hundred pounds of its flesh be sufficient for your curse? Naturally, I must be able to lay hands upon it. Fair warning though, there is the inherent risk of a poor landing if I am unfamiliar with the area that the next attack is in, so there is that to consider. As for Aiva, the last I heard of her was that she was hunting an ancient dragon. I doubt she would appreciate being pulled from her hunt. Carreau though, I can see her being more than happy to join in this venture. Perhaps we could convince Cassie to help as well, remember the moon?"
Turning next to face Damien,Pride has foretold the fall of many great warriors Damien, however warranted it may be. The fish is nothing particularly special, the blend of spices I used on it is though. I must keep some secrets, no?
"Better to leap at a shadow than be unprepared for the knife emerging from it Shovash."

[QuidEst]

"I'm glad to see you," Vauma says. "I'm using 'kaiju' inexactly to mean a creature that can destroy an entire city, setting aside dragons. We haven't gone up against them yet, so we don't know if there are any true kaiju amongst them, nigh-unkillable beasts of legend, but they do seem to be getting stronger from what we know. Once cities started getting leveled, I figured I should let you know there was something that might be worth your attention- or if not, there could be before long."

[Sepulchritude]

"Dragons are probably more fun to pick a fight with," Shovash offered, deliberately grinning broadly enough to show off the silver crystal driven into her jaw. She'd lost the original tusk after catching a stray tail from an enormous blue that sent her crashing into a cliff face. It was one of her favorite stories. She gave Aiva a quick gesture with her chin as a greeting, when she stepped forward.

"Big. Bigger than they should be, if you believe reports from the provincials. And I do: Skelt's gone. I've laid siege to that hole, myself, got nowhere. One damn turtle took the walls down headbutting them, stepped on a bunch of buildings, and the only clue we can get out of the survivors is that it was on fire the whole time. The other one sounded like an ordinary thunderbird, but you don't need trebuchets to run off a thunderbird. Our civilized friends think there's another one coming tomorrow by late morning." She glanced over her shoulder, and a wing twitched in the rough direction of Dharmesh. "What would it take to bury the hatchet for a day, just in case?"

[ylvathrall]

Aiva just grins herself, showing teeth that are very, very sharp as they catch the light of the fire. "For prey that big? I can look past old times for a day. Provided you can convince Damien that I won't eat him...yet." She snickers as she says this, and the crimson sheen to her eyes seems a bit more intense before fading.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben looks at Aiva in mock seriousness.

"Now, now, this is no time for eating people. Perhaps tomorrow?"

He stops hovering, and as he lands he claps her on the shoulder - with all his weight behind the blow, she might actually feel it.

"We're going to need you on this one. Worthy prey - the very most dangerous."

[TheOneHawk]

"I'm here, ain't I?" Grumbles Damien, though he doesn't seem entirely comfortable and is avoiding Aiva's gaze pointedly.

[ylvathrall]

Aiva just smirks at Damien, then nods. "I'm in - for a day. Maybe I'll stick around for the next one if they keep coming like you seem to think they will. And if it's worth hunting."

The rougarou in tow, you teleport next to Carreau's camp. Despite their wildly divergent personalities, the two camps are set up in a very similar fashion, with a simple tent next to a fire. Carreau is sitting on a stump next to the fire, wearing her mithral chain and sharpening Sorrow's black, broken blade. The sword never gets dull, from what she'd said; she sharpens it anyway.

"Can't say I thought I'd see you again," she says softly, not setting the blade aside. Her piercing blue eyes take each of you in, lingering on Shovash and Damien. "But you know I can't turn down the chance to help if something really big is going down."

[Hjolnai]

Tolben smiles, a touch sadly.

"No, you never could, could you? One day it will be the death of you - let's just hope it's not this time. Ah, here I go again, bringing up old sorrows. Today is a good day - a day for meeting old friends."

He glances at Carreau's broken blade as he speaks its name, but looks away quickly.

[QuidEst]

"Hello- it's nice to see you again," Vauma greeted Carreau. "So far, there's been a giant thunderbird and a massive stone-and-fire tortoise. Both demolished the better part of a city, and the only things we've been able to figure out are a rough time and that it's probably something worse. If we get people together, we can prepare, and we'll be ready to teleport to the site of the problem when we hear something."

[AscendingApe]

"I did not expect to meet you again for quite a while either Carreau, but it seems that we must work together for a greater good. It truly is good to see you again, and I am sorry for the things I said to you, for what little it's worth." Dharmesh holds his hand out to her as if to shake.

[ylvathrall]

Carreau doesn't take Dharmesh's hand, but neither does she say anything harsh to him. Instead, she merely nods and says, "Likewise," before beginning to pack her belongings.

Aiva just watches, and smiles, a crimson gleam in her eye.


Various other preparations made, the appointed hour rolls around. At first, it seems that Shovash was correct and it was merely a coincidence. But fifteen minutes after the expected start of the attack, three separate sendings come in. They're panicky, jumbled, and half-incoherent, but between the three, the following can be put together with fair confidence.

The city of Magnimar is under attack by...something. It is like nothing that any of the people reporting in have ever seen, and they are calling it the Leviathan simply to have anything to call it at all. It appears to be a lizard-like being, built on a grand scale - closer in size to buildings than to any normal creature. It has the strength to level a house, but even beyond that, it is controlling the water of the ocean and the Yondabakari River with incredible power - the kind of power that makes tsunamis a legitimate concern.

Based on the sendings, it is currently rampaging through the Shore district of Magnimar, leaving little but rubble and corpses behind it.

I'm glossing over a bit of time in the interests of keeping things moving. If you have anything more to say to the NPCs, or other preparations to make before resting, feel free.

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash's face darkened as the reports became clear. The pattern of the attacks was immediately too clear to argue with, and moreover—

"So we have a problem with the elementals." A streamer of smoke began to rise immediately from the tattoo on her belly; she shushed it. "No, sweetheart. This is not the fight for you. Here, hold on to this just in case, but I don't want you coming unless you're called." while she twisted to lift her staff out of one of the slits that passed for pockets on that robe, her tail pulled a tiny chunk of something dark and aromatic out of the other and passed it around front. It vanished into the smoke that was retreating back to her skin.

"I suggest you all take to the air. It's less likely to be able to reach you. And if it can, that's attention not wrecking the city. I'll bring us to the shore itself. Find out if it needs a supply line before we engage. Mebetateni! " Shovash began to jitter like a misaligned memory stone projection, and she was back in those pockets again right away.

Blur, moment of greatness, and chameleon scales all at CL21. Color choice is as close to the light greenish-brown of silty delta water as orcs naturally get. Body slot the same, a la many garments. Take every possible advantage, ye?

[TheOneHawk]

Damien rolls his eyes and replies, "Every minute we waste looking to see if it needs a supply line is both a bunch of people dead and a bunch of time not blowing this big ugly sucker sky-high. Let's just go smash the damn thing." He casts a couple of quick defensive spells, then says, "Ready to go whenever, let's do this."

[Hjolnai]

Tolben takes the time to cast a few spells, and emerges as a huge, three-eyed horror. Even as the party feel themselves speeding up, its hideous voice spells out a plan.

"As I see it, the best way to find the enemy is from high up. I'm short on teleportation today - Damien, would you mind? Just straight up about a thousand feet, then back here once you've seen it."

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh closes his component pouch after one final check to ensure that everything is where it should be and activates his cloak inciting it to transform into a pair of eagle's wings. "I couldn't agree more Damien, this is not the time to fret over the correct course, this is the time for action. The longer we wait the more people will die. Let us get to work"

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar's preparations, by necessity, happen out of sight but end with Greta nestled securely into the gauntlet bound to his right arm, his owl-feather cape keeping him suspended a few inches above the ground, and his height reduced by half


"With the reported size of our target, I doubt it'll be hard to find no matter how high or low we are."



Buff myself with Resist Energy(Cold), activate my Flight and True Seeing. Eat a Fairy Cap.

[QuidEst]

Vauma nods. "Let's go in, with enough altitude. If it's controlling water, I can maybe counteract a little of that. We'll see what we can do."

Life Bubble (Group)
Barkskin (Self, Mycetes)
Freedom of Movement (Mycetes)
Air Walk, Communal (Group)
Wind Walk (Group)
Word of Recall (set for here)
Foresight (self)
Hunter's Blessing, Kaiju, Urban (Party)
Animal Growth (Mycetes, after the report)

[ylvathrall]

The teleport brings you in precisely one hundred feet above the ground in the Shore district of Magnimar. From that height, it isn't hard at all to see the problem. There's a trail of broken buildings leading from the ocean towards the center of the city. There's a horrendous rainstorm, water coming down in sheets that makes it hard to even see clearly. The ground is covered in water already, the streets flooded.

At the end of the trail, some two hundred feet from you, a fifty foot tall lizard-creature covered in spikes is laying waste to more buildings with its claws and tail. Each movement is followed by an echo of water, further devastating the urban landscape. It looks like there are archers trying to shoot it from the ground and nearby buildings, but their shots don't seem to be doing any actual damage, and as you watch a whirlpool forms in the water, sucking perhaps eight of them into the churning waters.

Vauma's magic tries to take hold of the storm, but it's being influenced by something too strong for her spell to override - this is very definitely not natural weather.

[AscendingApe]

[roll0]
(Knowledge Arcana to try and identify the creature or discern any useful information about it)

Blinking, Dharmesh quickly casts an extended Haste on the others, waiting for the magic to settle in them."Move quickly, my magic will only hold but a few minutes at most." Turning to Aiva, "What do you think? A true Kaiju, and a unique one at that. Possibly the only one of its kind. I'd call it worthier prey than a dragon, what about you?" To the group at large, "It's a real kaiju, and bound to elemental water to boot. I've never even heard of a creature quite like it, there's no telling what it can do."

On a mechanical level, I've burned two phrenic points to double haste's duration to 40 rounds.

[Sepulchritude]

"Not made of it, though!" Despite the devastation and tragic loss of life, Shovash grins at the rest of them like a child on Sunwrought. She turns her excited smile on Aiva, most of all. "Pretty sure it actually bleeds blood. You know what that means. Rags, don't forget to stop—bye ~~! " Without another word, Shovash spreads her wings to their full span, lets herself fall backwards, and abruptly vanishes. The next sign of her, an instant later, is a flash of light from one of the rooftops in the midst of the city's hapless guards.
ooo
"Get the archers to safety!" So close to the source of the storm, Shovash is compelled to shout to be heard at all. It's precisely her element. At present, the recipient of her shouting is some sort of angel, roughly her own size, with golden skin and silver wings like a polished reflection of its mistress. "Heal who you can and get back here. Go!"

At that, she raises her staff, the concordance's pennant fluttering wildly in the storm, and waves it high. "DEFENDERS OF MAGNIMAR," she bellows at absolutely the top of her lungs. "YOU HAVE HELD OUT LONG ENOUGH!"

On the assumption that an angel needs the least careful instructions on not getting the mortals killed, that's a 2rd Time Stop, full Run on the first round to get to position, and a full-round SM9 on the second to summon an Astral Deva. If I understand this timing at all, I'm strictly cheesing the narrative element, but it can't act until my next initiative anyway, and the talking helps explain why that's as low as [roll0]

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar sighs slightly. What is to come is necessary, but it never gets any easier or more comfortable. As he starts to fly towards the massive reptile, he reaches inside himself, feeling the stinging bite of distant fey thorns cutting into his body without leaving marks on the skin. A moment of focus pulls the soulbound wound open just a little, entangling his essence with the briars even while stationary.

Now entirely unseen, he glides closer, Greta practically vibrating against his arm with anticipation as he levels her at the beast and fires a single, almost exploratory shot into the rain and wind, sailing past the creature harmlessly.


Greta casts Sense Vitals.
Ragnar triggers Invisible Blade as a swift action for 10 rounds of Greater Invisibility.
Move action to close from 200ft. to 140ft.
Standard action to fire a single bolt.

Natural 1 misses.

[ylvathrall]

Aiva howls with laughter, a huge crimson sword manifesting in her grip. Carreau just nods, expression stony, and draws her broken blade as Shovash casts her spell.

The archers look up at Shovash with expressions of shock and joy, like they're witnessing a miracle in the flesh. Then again, in a way, they are. The deva nods its acknowledgment of the orders, though it will take a moment for it to orient itself to the situation.

The Leviathan has no such delay. It bellows a challenge, a roar so deep and loud that it's more felt in the chest than heard by the ears, the building literally vibrating with the force of it. It throws one claw in Shovash's direction, and the water around it surges, a jet of liquid shooting at her with force that could shatter stone.

Rolled in the discord. Attack of 61, beats the miss chance on blur, 96 damage. Let me know if I'm forgetting anything.

Anyone with significant knowledge arcana or nature can identify this as a kinetic blast, such as a kineticist would use.

[QuidEst]

Vauma hung back, urging Mycetes a little lower in order to bring her a little lower as she began summoning. She wasn't particularly concerned about getting the glory for this. Through the telepathic relay, she asked the others to keep the creature's attention while she completed the summoning. <Oh, and let the archers know to fire on the kaiju, not my new friends.>

Rod of Giant Summoning, Summon Monster IX, 3 worms. 70 ft. from the ground.

[AscendingApe]

Closing his eyes, Dharmesh slowly exhales and reaches into the pouch resting on his belt, pulling out a handful of broken glass. Dropping them from his grasp, they hang suspended in the air for a moment before flaring a bright white and vanishing, a similar flash appearing for a moment all around the Leviathan's feet. Opening his eyes once more, Dharmesh soars behind the remains of a nearby building, trying to get something between him and the kaiju.

Just pasting etheric shards in the spoiler
You harden interpenetrated ethereal substance into deadly transdimensional razors that are invisible to normal sight.

Movement through an area of etheric shards is halved, even for incorporeal creatures, and creatures entering a 5-foot cube filled with etheric shards take 1d8 points of piercing and slashing damage and must succeed at a Reflex save or take 1 point of bleed damage. This bleed damage stacks with itself and other sources of bleed damage. A creature standing within an area of etheric shards takes no damage as long as it remains completely motionless, but even the minor movements involved in attacking or defending in combat force a stationary creature to attempt a Reflex save. If a stationary creature succeeds at this save, it avoids damage completely for that round, but if it fails, it takes hit point damage and bleed damage as though it had moved through the square.

A creature forcibly moved through an area of etheric shards, such as by a bull rush or drag combat maneuver, takes a –4 penalty on its saving throw, but a creature able to see invisible or ethereal objects gains a +4 bonus, and damage to it is completely negated on a successful Reflex save.

Etheric shards are considered a magical trap, and a creature with trapfinding can use Perception to find them. The DC of this check is equal to 25 + the spell’s level. Etheric shards can’t be disabled with the Disable Device skill.

[Hjolnai]

Where before stood a horrific giant creature, now there is a huge white dragon. Undaunted by the weather, it flies forward at an astounding pace, shouting out spell words at the same time. By the time it reaches the fray, the dragon has been shrouded in some shadowy substance; a beam of red light strikes out from it toward the monster. From within the storm can be heard the dragon's speech - Tolben, of course:
"Begone, creature! Your presence here will not be tolerated!"

Unfortunately, Tolben has misjudged the distance and the red ray peters out long before reaching its target.


Shapechange, changing form: free action. Fly forward 120ft as a move action.
Cast Shadowform.
Cast Quickened Ray of Enfeeblement: Touch [roll0] (after penalty for being Huge). Fort save DC 28 to halve. Penalty [roll1]. (Can't hit at that range anyway, ignore)
If the Kaiju has SR: [roll2]

[TheOneHawk]

Rather than charging forward with Tolben and Shovash, Damien floats almost casually upward with the wind whipping through his hair and asks the raven on his shoulder, "Whaddya think, Beatrice? Ever seen anything like that before? Any suggestions on elements?" For a moment, she offers no response, cocking her head to the side and staring at the massive beast as it blasts Shovash with the force of a geyser, then croaks out "Not acid." Damien nods and grins, raising his hands towards the beast and replying, "Ice, then," as twin icy-blue blasts of power shoot from his hands.

Intensified Cold Ice Strike followed by Piercing Icy Prison.

58 damage from the Intensified Cold Ice Strike, DC 34 Reflex for half. Result of 37 vs Spell Resistance.

DC 33 Reflex on the Piercing Icy Prison. Result of 42 vs Spell Resistance -5. 22 inches of ice with hardness 0 and 66 hit points.

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar grimaces, letting himself float steady in the air for a moment as he stabilizes his aim.

"Let's try that again, shall we? The target is the giant lizard, not the buildings it's stomping on."
"Don't try to pin this on me, you oaf! You're the one aiming and pulling the trigger."

He ignores the blistering commentary and levels Greta dead-center against the kaiju, firing a flurry of bolts at the creature before drifting upward slightly.


Full attack, then 5-ft step upward. Using Rapid Shot and Haste.

1 hit against AC45, for 109 damage.

[Sepulchritude]

Stone is rigid. Stone makes no allowance for opposed force. Shovash, on the contrary, has plenty of experience in yielding to survive. She hastily crouches as low as she can and crosses her wings in front of herself. It doesn't do anything to soften the impact, but the slope keeps her from being bowled off the roof. She shouts something more, but it's hard to hear over the next thousand gallons crashing into her. For a moment, she is completely obscured.

The moment passes. The water knocks great chunks of stone off the edge of the building on its way to join the rest of the swirling flood. And Shovash stands; or, an angel resembling her does, as though the water washed away all that was monstrous and wicked about the woman. There's even a thin corona of light spannig the ring of her horns like a halo. She haltingly stretches her wings—feathered now in brilliant white—before raising the banner again defiantly. It two wingbeats for her to take the air, one more to vault to the next building, where she reaches out for the nearest archer. "You, hold on tight. You two, take cover. Don't die for nothing." In the other direction, her servant has already caught up two more by the collars of their jerkins and hauled them into the air.

Took 96 damage (and ultimately recovered 4). Time Stop only gave me two rounds, again, during which: Celestial Healing and Greater Angelic Aspect. But it's a standard action to cast it, then a move to some nameless NPC who gets to throw a grapple roll so I can reverse it as an immediate and gtfo at top speed next round.

New buff list: Fast healing 4; DR 10/evil; immunity to acid, cold, and petrification; 20' aura of Magic Circle against Evil (+4 saves/AC); 20' Globe of Invulnerability; Blur; Haste; Vauma's QoL bundle; assorted detections

[ylvathrall]

Dharmesh's spell takes form, filling the area around the Leviathan's feet with shards of pure force. At much the same time, great worms writhe up from beneath the streets in answer to Vauma's call, each nearly the size of the Leviathan itself. Damien launches a spray of ice at the creature, but it twists aside with uncanny ease, and the spell goes completely wide. His second spell, wrapping it in ice, is somewhat more successful, though it manages to avoid being completely covered by the ice. Ragnar shoots the monster repeatedly, but most of his bolts glance aside harmlessly off its scales, and even the one that penetrates seems to have had its force substantially reduced by the armored hide of the beast. Shovash, recovering from the torrential blast of water, manages to reach an archer and collect her, while her deva grabs another two, hauling them out of the area behind another building.

Then the Leviathan reacts, with absolutely stunning speed. It charges straight through the shards, ignoring the wounds they slice into its ankles completely and simply bulling through as it runs in Damien's direction. At first it seems it won't be able to reach him. Then it starts climbing through the air, a sheet of water somehow supporting its titanic weight as it approaches, roaring something that almost sounds like...words, albeit in a language you don't recognize, and so loud as to shake the earth. It charges towards him, even the ice hardly seeming to slow it down at all, and then lunges forward, claw first, at the sorcerer. The claw misses, but leaves it in close proximity to the sorcerer.

The creature said: "Break, arrogant mortal."

Rolled the attack, natural one. You can roll linguistics to identify the language, though you don't actually know it.

And yes, it can charge that fast even through the shards and with the ice entangling it.

[The Glyphstone]

"Whelp, time to clear the range - this is a bit too close for comfort."

Seeing the massive beast charge past time to attack Damien, Ragnar darts in the opposite direction towards the kaiju's origin point. Once again safely away from its bulk, he spins and launches another single bolt into its back.

Through the shared telepathic link, This creature is intelligent, I think it's speaking a dialect of Thassilonian.


Retreat to 150ft, fire.

Hits AC40 for 123 damage.

[Sepulchritude]

'Yeah, I guessed the first part when it pointed a finger at me, thanks.' The connection that Shovash built, in contrast to spellcraft, was a messy, organic, spiritual thing. It didn't respond well to most enhancements, especially to safety features. But it was amazing at delivering sarcasm. You could feel the sharpness of it. She leapt up again, after some final instructions to the deva, who looked just as annoyed to be playing ferry as Shovash had sounded.

She rose as fast as could be expected, with the turbulence and the distraction of casting another spell, but she definitely wouldn't close with Ragnar faster than the beast could, and the others were at far more range yet.

Flying sharply upward with enough Fly skill to auto the roll. Whatever directions are, height has been pretty clear, and I can get about halfway to the level of the new melee. If there's gonna be a time when Aiva and Carreau pass within 30' or either Ragnar or Shovash, I'll wait until then to catch one of us in the spell. But in any case, Fiendish Wrath on the brawlers. +2 Str&Con +1 Will, morale. And Aiva gets a buy-two-get-one sale on her claw attacks from the Rend UMA is a big dork who wastes her time playing with sticks instead of really getting in there.

[AscendingApe]

Looking around at the battlefield, Dharmesh utters a short phrase that causes the world to shudder.
[Vudrani]:"I command you to halt."
Dharmesh vanishes from where he was, reappearing as a swirlng cloud of dust in the shape of a man next to Ragnar.
[Telepathy]:"Hello Ragnar, would you care for some assistance? I have quite the spell for you."

Time stop rolled, got three rounds duration.
Round : Cast dust form, making me incorporeal and causing non magical attacks I make to do half damage, as well as irrelevant things.
Round 2: Cast hermean potential, next 5 attack rolls, saving throws, or ability/skill check I can roll twice and take the better roll.
Round 3: Double move to get to Ragnar.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien's smirk when it appears the creature will be at least partially immobilized by his spells quickly turns to an expression of shock, then fear as it closes the distance faster than he thought possible and misses taking his head off with a claw by a hair. He curses colourfully, then says, "Let's see if I can't knock you out of the sky, then," throwing a clear white bolt of power at the beast before teleporting several hundred feet away, towards Shovash.

Greater dispel magic, quickened dimension door to get about 300 feet away from the leviathan in Shovash's direction.

[Hjolnai]

Again, Tolben turns into a Void Yai. He turns back the way he came from, and flies as fast as he can. Then he unleashes a terrifying barrage of magical projectiles against the leviathan.


Free action: Turn into Void Yai.
Move: Move 70ft closer to the Leviathan
Standard: Empowered Intensified Battering Blast, Maximised by Spell Perfection
Swift: Empowered Intensified Battering Blast, Quickened by Spell Perfection.

The Maximised one (rolled in Discord):
Vs SR: 51.
To hit touch: 18, 15, 24, 23, 24
Damage (Force): 53, 57, 55, 53, 55
CMB (Bull Rush): 53, 57, 48, 60, 44 (take highest which hit the touch attack, add +10 for each other hit touch)
Reflex Save DC or fall prone (if bull rushed): 32

Quickened:
Vs SR: [roll0].
To hit touch: [roll1], [roll2], [roll3], [roll4], [roll5]
Damage (Force): (rolled in Discord) 25, 43, 39, 34, 36
CMB (Bull Rush): [roll6], [roll7], [roll8], [roll9], [roll10] (take highest which hit the touch attack, add +10 for each other hit touch)
Reflex Save DC or fall prone (if bull rushed): 32

[QuidEst]

Vauma's expression soured as the monster rose into the air. Well, there went that plan. The summoning was still in flux, and she could complete it with something more useful under the circumstances. A trio of giant air elementals flew to harass the creature. There wasn't much they could do, but they'd get in the way and hopefully keep it briefly occupied. She waved a hand to indicate the assault, and let them get to work while she tried something else.

Casting Control Water, lowering the water by 20ft. in a 200ft.x200ft. area.

Air elementals move in, attack results of 42, 37, 38. Mostly just getting in the way and making it harder to pursue move around.



Advanced Giant Elder Air Elemental
CR 11

XP 12,800
N Gargantuan outsider (air, elemental, extraplanar)
Init +16; Senses darkvision 60 ft.;Perception +21

DEFENSE

AC 33, touch 20, flat-footed 20 (+12 Dex, +1 dodge, +13 natural, –3 size)
hp 216 (16d10+128)
Fort +18, Ref +22, Will +9
Defensive Abilities air mastery; DR 10/—; Immune elemental traits

OFFENSE

Speed fly 100 ft. (perfect)
Melee 2 slams +26 (3d8+13)
Space 20 ft.; Reach 20 ft.
Special Attacks whirlwind (DC 31, 10-60 ft.)

STATISTICS

Str 36, Dex 35, Con 26, Int 14, Wis 15, Cha 15
Base Atk +16; CMB +31; CMD 54
Feats Blind-Fight, Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Flyby Attack, Improved InitiativeB, Iron Will, Mobility, Power Attack, Weapon FinesseB
Skills (Unadjusted) Acrobatics +30, Escape Artist +30, Fly +34, Knowledge (planes) +19, Perception +19, Stealth +22
Languages Auran

SPECIAL ABILITIES
Air Mastery (Ex)

Airborne creatures take a –1 penalty on attack and damage rolls against an air elemental.

[ylvathrall]

Aiva and Carreau reverse direction and fly after the Leviathan, but are too slow to do more than keep up with it, and that barely. The rain starts to slow, though, and Vauma is able to lower the water level in the street, leaving the civilians in much less danger of drowning.

With the Leviathan, however, things are less promising. Ragnar puts another bolt into it, Tolben hits it with a series of force blasts, one of the air elementals connects with a pseudopod of hardened cloud, and while it has some visible broken bones, it's not even slowing down. It gestures with one claw at Damien, and its body instantly transforms into a mass of water which shoots at the sorcerer with devastating force. It reforms out of the water standing right next to him on a layer of water, and lays into him with claws, with the horns on its head, with two slaps of its tail.

All the actual attacks missed. Fortunately for it, the tail sweep isn't an attack roll, it just automatically hits. Damien takes 84 damage and is right on next to a Leviathan.

Edit: At least, the attacks missed until I added some mythic on, since otherwise you were going to curb stomp this thing. It landed a crit, as is traditional for me and Hawk, and Damien is paste.

Carreau and Aiva passed within thirty feet of Shovash.

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash takes the heaviest sigh at the sight of Damien being crushed to a pulp again. I even tried to draw attention away, you know? There's just no cure for the boy." She reached Ragnar within another few seconds, still shining and beatific and wearing an expression that completely ruined the facade of purity. Hovering close enough to nearly graze him with her flight feathers, she squeezed his shoulder. "It's unnatural. An intruder. Wasn't their time, any of them." Rude time to be smiling.

Eyyy...! Get provocated. Full round of +10 all attack and damage rolls and will saves

[The Glyphstone]

"Noooooooo! Damien! Not again!"

Ragnar would only feel resigned, but for Shovash's touch filling him with a cold and vengeful fury, and Dharmesh's touch upon his opposite shoulder. He holds quite still, long enough to allow their contact before settling the wounded and furious beast in his sights, singling out the injuries already made and aiming to plunge his fire directly through the gaps in its hide.



So, with Touch of Rage, Hermean Potential, and expending Moment of Greatness on the crit confirm, I deal a total of 899 damage against AC 47 or lower, with DR only counting once from Clustered Shots.

[ylvathrall]

Ragnar puts a seris of bolts into the Leviathan's back, shot after shot slamming home in a tight cluster on the back of its neck. They punch deep, and eventually, the bolts land hard enough that the great beast is finally laid low. The water gives way beneath it, and it falls, landing hard enough to crush the building it lands upon. The water stops swirling at the same time, and the rain starts to rapidly lighten.

The air is still, silent save for the screams of the wounded and the dying, on the earth beneath you.

[Sepulchritude]

"That's vengeance dealt," Shovash assured the miniature woodsman, barely restrained excitement audible in her voice. She stopped restraining it entirely just a second later, whooping and tumbling into a rapid dive. She did that a lot, let herself begin things chaotically, took needless risks. Seemed to like getting them back under control for its own sake. She waited until she neared the ground and began to level out to say anything to the rest of them.

'Someone's gonna have to clean up Damien. Then come take care of a few casualties. Angels keep score on that; it's good for business.' But before she followed her own advice, she buzzed the rooftops—the fight had been too brief for her servant to shuttle more than a handful of soldiers out of the dangerous area, so most were still right where she'd seen them last. "New job! Patch 'em up! she shouted at the deva in passing. It wasn't until she'd reached the spot where the monster had fallen that she dropped the halo and all the rest, just as she landed on the side of it like some kind of carrion fly. And just like one, she went straight for the largest wound and began cutting her way deeper inside. At least she came with a built-in privacy screen.

[Hjolnai]

"Damn it!"

Tolben very carefully does not look at Damien's remains. Instead, as he resumes his normal form, he flies up to the already-desecrated corpse of the monster.

Seething energies bend and twist before his arcane sight. Something strange - something different empowered the creature. He watches as those strange energies disperse into the Void, and so gains new insights in his field of study. New insights, as well, into the unique powers the creature bore. He takes a few small samples for further study, but merely seeing the dispersal may well have changed him forever.

[QuidEst]

Vauma let out a sigh of relief as the beast fell and the air began to start clearing, the counteracting influence of her weather control finally taking its course. While she could crank up the heat to a sweltering temperatures, she wasn't going to spit in the Heiress's face like that when she was the one providing the magic. Hmm. A corpse like this would be a good thing to make use of, though. Nothing harmful to the citizens- that was solidly into being an ungrateful guest, even if she'd helped save the hosts. Certainly nothing close to reanimating- she didn't trust that the creature couldn't out-grow whatever she sowed in it. Something aesthetically pleasing- beautiful growths of something non-toxic, if not particularly edible.

First, though, she had another of the Heiress's gifts to bestow, however unappreciative the recipient. She spurred Mycetes over to where Damien's corpse had been almost comically flung, dismounting to direct spores into the warm flesh to the fungus to begin mapping the body and mind. Vital energies from the First World flowed through the fungus, making it grow far quicker than normal, and before long they'd mapped enough of Damien to provide consciousness again. "Good to see you again," Vauma said, smiling sleepily and helping him up to his feet. "Oh, please don't mess with the kaiju's body. I'm growing something with it."

With that taken care of, having given others the chance to take whatever bits of meat or soul they wanted, Vauma set the spores to take root in the colossal cadaver.

[AscendingApe]

"Oh Damien, you always have been a lure to danger. At least that never changed."
Turning to the others and allowing his body to regain solidity, Dharmesh's eyes lose all color, becoming large white orbs as he weaves his hands and mutters the various incantations of his spells. "I will seek out survivors and gather them in a safe place. Please do not allow Damien to destroy the body." With that, Dharmesh flies off through the ruins, seeking out beating hearts with his augmented senses.

Burn a use of expanded awareness for lifesense, cast telekinesis to move rubble off of people, and cast acute senses to see better than any elf ever could.

[The Glyphstone]

As Shovash burrows her way into the kaiju's corpse, Ragnar gently descends to settle near its head. He lays a palm on its skin roughly in the middle of its forehead and mutters in Ulfen.
No savage beast were you, but possessed of a will and mind most ancient and mighty. If within you dwelt a soul, let it pass from this world in peace and meet the rightful judgement beyond."

[TheOneHawk]

Damien takes Vauma's hand with a grin, standing up and replying "Thank you, again. Guess I owe you... what is it, fifteen now?" He chuckles and sighs, looking over at the body in the distance. "I was hoping to get a bit of vengeance on the damn thing, but I guess I'll have to take out my frustration on your mushrooms instead. I really hope you figure out a less creepy way to bring me back one day, not that I'm not grateful..." He shudders a little as a mushroom breaches the skin on his forearm, growing out of him at an unnatural rate. Once Vauma walks away, he grabs a small diamond from his pack and sends a surge of power through it, shattering it into a fine dust that settles on his spores and causes them to shrivel up and die, quickly leaving him looking his normal self again.

[ylvathrall]

Aiva comes and starts hacking into the kaiju with Amaranthine beside Shovash, occasionally leaning in to tear out a chunk of meat and gulp it down. The two eventually carve a path to the main heart, an organ which is fully the size of an elephant in itself - there's far, far more than enough meat for both of them. They both tear into the raw meat voraciously, while Vauma spreads spores onto the corpse, drawing forth fungal growths elsewhere on its body, mushrooms quickly growing from the size of bushes to the size of saplings all along its limbs. Ragnar settles by its head, feeling the echoes of its titanic spirit fade, while Dharmesh searches out and rescues survivors, digging them out from the rubble of ravaged buildings. Carreau goes and kneels beside Ragnar, eyes closed, breathing hard.

You consume the heart and the lifeblood of the Leviathan, and it is invigorating. There is power here, potency so great that even the fraction you're consuming is enough to fill you full. Feasting on it, you are struck by the primal nature of what you're feeding upon. It's like trying to drink the ocean in, consuming something so vast and ancient and powerful that it dwarfs the imagination. You feel a spreading heat pass down your limbs, leaving you tingling and awake and alive all over in the wake of its passage. It is unlike anything you have ever consumed before; even the eldest qlippoth you brought low in the war did not feel primeval in the way that this does.

You watch the fading power of the Leviathan emanate into the Void, and it is humbling. You were aware that this creature was powerful, but this is power on a level unlike anything you could have thought, potency so great that even after death it is the process of several minutes for it to fade into the aether and pass into the Void. Just watching it, you are struck by the primal nature of the energies at work here. It's like trying to watch the ocean, each and every wave at once, observing something so vast and ancient and powerful that it dwarfs the imagination. You feel a coolness pass down your limbs, leaving you tingling and awake and alive all over in the wake of its passage. It is unlike anything you have ever witnessed before; even the eldest qlippoth you brought low in the war did not feel primeval in the way that this does.

You feel new life growing out of the Leviathan's vast remains, and it is inspiring. There is power here, power such that even the dead shell left behind it is fuel unlike anything you could have thought, potency so great that your connection to it through the conduit of the life you wrench forth from it leaves you humbled. Through that connection, you are struck by the primal nature of the energy at work here. It's like trying to sense the life of the ocean, from the mightiest kraken to the humblest plankton, all of them at once, life so vast and ancient and complex that it dwarfs the imagination. You feel a rush of vibrant health pass down your limbs, leaving you tingling and awake and alive all over in the wake of its passage. It is unlike anything you have ever returned to the cycle before; even the eldest qlippoth you brought low in the war did not feel primeval in the way that this does.

You look after the wounded left behind in the aftermath of the Leviathan's rampage, and it is sobering. There is power here, power such that even those not targeted by it were left broken by the simple proximity to its reach, potency so great that looking at what it wrought upon the flesh and the minds of those it touched leaves you shaking. As you look at the survivors, you are struck by the primal nature of the force at work here. It's like trying to save someone lost at sea, a sea in storm, the force of the world itself bent against them, force so vast and ancient and powerful that it dwarfs the imagination. You feel a sense of purpose pass down your limbs, leaving you tingling and awake and alive all over in the wake of its passage. It is unlike anything you have ever recovered from before; even the eldest qlippoth you brought low in the war did not feel primeval in the way that this does.

You commune with the spirit of the Leviathan, and it is calming. There is power here, power such that even the echo of its spirit is enough to dwarf the lives of most things living, potency so great that the weight of its end is monumental. As you feel it pass on to the next phase of its long existence, you are struck by the primal nature of the spirit here. It's like trying to process the ending of the ocean, an entity so vast and ancient and powerful that it dwarfs the imagination. You feel a sense of determination pass down your limbs, leaving you tingling and awake and alive all over in the wake of its passage. It is unlike anything you have ever ended before; even the eldest qlippoth you brought low in the war did not feel primeval in the way that this does.

You are laid low by the Leviathan, and it is infuriating. There is power here, power such that even a casual brush with it was enough to cut your life short, brought back only by the aid of a meddlesome demigod expressed through Her chosen. As you are dragged back to the world of the living, you are struck by the primal nature of the assault here. It's like drowning in the ocean, killed by something so vast and ancient and powerful that it dwarfs the imagination. You feel a sense of fury pass down your limbs, leaving you tingling and awake and alive all over in the wake of its passage. it is unlike anything you have ever been killed by before; even the eldest qlippoth you brought low in the war did not feel primeval in the way that this does.

[Sepulchritude]

When it hits her, it's almost too intense, too much at once. It's not exhilaration, though that is present, or relief. This feeling is like becoming whole, when she wasn't incomplete before. More than whole? Shovash looks to the side, at Aiva, similarly perched on... whatever organ it is beneath them. Similarly drenched in gore. Her breath is heavy beyond what the exertion can explain.

"It's like... in the Vault," she tries, but she knows it's a lie before the words come out. It's not like the Vault. That tasted like corruption and hate, and she was stronger for it. It's not like the time she'd hurled herself into the Source to escape being eaten, either, but the feeling of being an overflowing well comes close.

The Dedication. The thought connects, and Shovash freezes in place for half a second while reality works its way back inside. She gives the huntress beside her a slow, heavy-lidded look and checks a reflexive movement closer, then she turns and slinks out of the carcass without another word. At the opening, she snaps her wings open, wide and dramatic, then takes off for the river, dripping bright red the entire way. There are still plenty of wounded left to treat when she returns some minutes later, clean, damp, still the same red.

[AscendingApe]

Descending from the sky whenever he takes note of someone who yet lives, Dharmesh takes care to carefully use telekinesis to dig through the rubble, applying the use of healing where absolutely necessary. He also makes sure to gather the bodies of the dead where he finds them, hopefully their families will be brought a measure of peace by at least knowing what happened to their loved ones.
After leading the survivors in the immediate area into the safety of the street and depositing the dead on the ground, Dharmesh will address the crowd telepathically. "The beast is dead. Remain here while I fetch clerics for your injured, we will comb the area for more survivors," before vanishing in a flash of light, reappearing in a Shelynite temple, shouting that the monster was dead and there were survivors in need of help, rounding up as many as he can before returning to the street with the people once more in a flash of light.

Taking notice of the unusual woman, Dharmesh waves the clerics on ahead to tend the wounded before heading over to investigate this anomaly. Before approaching, he takes a moment to cast a spell of sight upon himself, his eyes becoming solid sheets of pale blue.

Teleport to temple, roll and reroll diplomacy via hermean potential from earlier to gather clerics/paladins, final result is 44. Teleport back, then cast Greater Arcane Sight to see what's up with old lady and her cart.

[Hjolnai]

Taking time to write down some of his observations, Tolben mutters to himself.

"It was... deep. Unlimited even, though only in one direction. Regrettable, its destruction. There was so much more to it - more even than us, perhaps."

He takes little notice of the others, or indeed of the chaos and destruction of the neighbourhood.

"I wonder... how does it work? How does it connect with..."

[AscendingApe]

Taking a moment to examine this woman, and considering all that he witnesses, anyone nearby sees a look of abject terror flash across Dharmesh's face for a moment before arranging into a careful neutrality. What was she doing here? This warranted investigation.
Before approaching her, Dharmesh sends out a telepathic message to the others, accompanied by an image of the old woman. "Everybody be very careful, the Witch Queen walks among us. I am going to speak to her."

Dropping the arcane sight, Dharmesh descends to the ground and walks forwards, the barest hint of hesitation in his gait. "Good day Grandmother, what brings you to this place?"

[QuidEst]

Vauma blinked, shaking her head a little. She felt… it actually took a moment to figure out what, but eventually she connected the feeling with not being tired. It had been at least a decade since she'd felt that. Her reverie was cut short, however, by the knowledge that Baba Yaga was present. That took priority.

She brushed herself off as best as she could, gave Mycetes a quick inspection, and proceeded to where Dharmesh was. Baba Yaga appeared to have set up a stand of some sort, selling… breaded meat. That was good; she must be here for her amusement- selling food at a spectacle that nobody could watch. Then, it was best to fit that role. She hadn't needed to eat for a while now, though, and when she had it was never at something like this. Her knowledge of civilization's customs was woefully inadequate, and neither the customs of the fey nor her borrowed architectural knowledge could help her here. That left her knowledge of religious practices. Fortunately, this would suffice. There were Vudrani sects that wished not to move on to the Outer Planes, but instead sought to integrate themselves at a spiritual level with the Material Plane, merging their being with the entirety of reality. It mirrored her own request perfectly. When it was polite to speak without interrupting, she said, "Make me one with everything."

She looked at Mycetes. "He'll have one too, no onions."

[TheOneHawk]

Upon receiving Dharmesh's message, Damien quickly heads over towards the psychic. He looks like he's going to ask the man a question but is distracted by the sight and smell of the sausage stand. "Food? Oh man, Dharmesh, you're the best! Fights always make me hungry," he turns to the woman and adds, "I'll take two... make that three, actually. With the works, but no mushrooms, had enough of those for one day." Returning his attention to Dharmesh, he finally asks the question he originally intended to, through a mouthful of sausage. "So, who's this Witch Queen you were talking about? I don't see any witches around here."

[ylvathrall]

Aiva emerges from the inside of the corpse, soaked to the skin in blood and having shed most of her armor and clothing. She stalks off through the streets, grinning like a lunatic at anyone who pays attention to her. Most of them quickly find something else to pay attention to.

"I am selling hot dogs," Baba Yaga says to Dharmesh, her tone very patient, like she's talking to a slow child. "Obviously. Chicago style. Not that that means anything to you."

As Vauma makes her request, the witch nods. "See, she gets it. Ten silver each, put it in the jar." She quickly pulls the sausages out, puts them in steamed buns, and starts stacking toppings on them until the actual sausages are almost completely hidden from sight. She continues to assemble hot dogs as the others purchase them, slinging the food so quickly and precisely that there's no question she's spent days doing this. Lots of them.

The sausages are very good, and taste like beef, topped with mustard, onions, pickle, pickle relish, tomato wedges, pickled peppers, and celery salt. They have no magical qualities that can be detected.

[AscendingApe]

Realizing his mistake, Dharmesh gives a small smile. "I see, apologies for my foolishness. I would like a cider please." Placing the silver coins in the jar and accepting the cup, Dharmesh takes a small drink, wanting to savor it. Turning to Damien, he says,"The Witch Queen is the woman whom you just bought three sausages from Damien. This woman is the one and only Baba Yaga, one of the most powerful mortals in existence. I can tell you more later if you wish." He says all this without the faintest hint of exaggeration.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien laughs through a mouthful of sausage, "One of the most powerful mortals in existence? Selling, what'd she call these, hot dogs?" Damien scoffs, "I think your mental shenanigans are starting to cause a bit of damage up there, Dharmesh. Clearly she's just a talented cook... oh, are you jealous? That must be it. Can't accept someone else is a good cook without unimaginable power." He smirks at Dharmesh, then turns to the hot dog vendor with his best winning smile. "Say, you wouldn't happen to be looking for more stable employment, would you? These are delicious and I'm always looking to add skilled cooks to my household staff. I pay well, and if you want to take a vacation I'll teleport you anywhere you want free of charge!"

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar is beginning to search the trail of devastation left behind by the kaiju for any wayward spirits of its victims, when the note of warning from Dharmesh distracts him. After a moment of reflection, he decides paying due respects to the Witch Queen is slightly more important than settling ghosts to rest who likely won't be going anywhere on short notice.

Following Vauma's example, he purchased a 'hot dog' and cup of cider.
Do you think it's made from real dog? Close to an outsider, Greta's speech is silent inside Ragnar's head rather than out loud/ His only answer is a raised eyebrow and a slight shake of the head - dog tasted quite different than beef - as did human, for that matter. What Baba Yaga's interest in this scene was beyond simply amusing herself remained unknown, though he did not doubt the crone would reveal her purpose when it suited her.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben stands at a distance. He heard Dharmesh's warning, and as his friends are all crowded around the Witch Queen he stands at a distance. His hands alternately clench and forcibly relax, the tension evident. He knows there is nothing he can do if she decides to harm them - a level of impotence he has not felt in years.

[ylvathrall]

"Teleport me anywhere I want," Baba Yaga repeats, sounding extremely disappointed with Damien. "You literally just signed off on a deal to teleport a stranger who might be the most powerful witch alive 'anywhere she wants' in trade for a sausage. Black gods, no wonder your parents were disappointed in your intellect. So tell me, how did the beasty taste? Did you savor its power as richly as your friends savored its heart and blood and breath? Was it worth what you paid?"

[Sepulchritude]

'Don't let her talk to the witch!'
'Sting!'
'Don't let her do it she'll get us all killed!'
'I told you if you didn't behave yourself I'd—'
'Insane! She's insane!'
'I'm thirsty is what I am. Maybe I'll take a dip into—Uh huh. Thought so. Much better. Sorry about that; I should have guessed he just wanted to make trouble. But more importantly, did you say YAGA IS HERE?!

Shovash's mental ties, it turns out, are also entirely too good at conveying shrieking excitement, and telepathy doesn't have the same limited range of pitches the ear can handle. Or volumes. Just moments later, a shadow passes overhead, circles around, and holds position as their companion dives straight out of the sun, braking only at the last second with a wingstall so hard it probably dislocates something. It definitely would have covered the entire hotdog cart in dust if the ground weren't still damp.

"Yaga?!" She barely even gets her feet on the ground before she rushes forward, eyes unfocusing just long enough for a peek into the ether. The cart serves as a convenient way to keep her hands in place, and she digs her fingertips into the top edge. "OH MY G— Hah! Hah, well, no, not anymore right? But you know what I mean! [REDACTED], I mean, I haven't made nearly the headway into Varisia that I'd hoped to by now, but I always hoped I'd get to meet you some.... someday, when..."

Shovash frowns, head tilting to one side in what might be the most unguarded display of confusion she'd shown in all the years the others had known her. "Wait. You're early. I was supposed to have another eight years to expand the border. And this is too far south."

[ylvathrall]

"Oh, it's the fun one!" Baba Yaga says as Shovash pulls a muscle landing in front of her. "I saw what you did with that ogre in Nerosyan. You remember, the one with the weasels and the tuning fork? Hilarious. You know, you remind me of me, a couple thousand years ago." She grins and slaps together a hot dog, passing it over without asking for money.

"Oh, it's off my cyclce, I know," she continues after Shovash expresses confusion. "But exceptions are made for exceptional people. I couldn't miss watching you kill your first Primordial."

[Sepulchritude]

So much for unguarded. The ogre thing makes her stiffen as soon as it gets through the mental buzz of questions and stories and ideas that keep leaking into the group's bond from intensity alone. So basically, shortly after she takes the frank. "Ogre... thing... Wait, you don't mean when we..." She flicks a glance back at her companions before continuing.

"I guess I'm glad to have a fan, even if I didn't know there was an audience, butOH THAT OGRE THING! Hahhhh, yeah, that was great. The look on its faces! I thought you meant when I m—" Shovash's over-eager explanation is abruptly cut off when a thin cloud of black smoke pours out of one sleeve and shoves the hot dog in her open mouth.

"Mmmph! Gmmb!" She doesn't try to finish though, once she chews and swallows, just asks, "What is this and where do I get more?"

[QuidEst]

Vauma placed her twenty silver in the jar, making sure to pay with twenty silver pieces rather than the equivalent two gold. She held out the onionless 'hot dog' to Mycetes, who gobbled it down despite having spent even longer not needing to eat than her. She took her time with hers, enjoying the taste. She wasn't sure if Baba Yaga was simply an exceptional cook, if she could taste better now, or if it was some combination of the two.

"Thank you, that was excellent," she said simply, a little unsure how to handle the vendor role now that there was discussion of killing Primordials. "Damien, you should be more precise with your speech."

[TheOneHawk]

Finally starting to clue in that perhaps not all is as it seems here, Damien mutters, "If you don't want the job just say so, no need to be mean..." then walks a few feet away, finishing his sausages quietly and handing the occasional bite of meat to Beatrice, who can be seen whispering in his ear.

[AscendingApe]

Finishing his drink, and reasonably confident that the Witch Queen was mostly here to amuse herself for the time being, Dharmesh will set the empty cup down. "I assure you Damien, it is not her cooking which I envy. Enjoy your... Hot Dog." Turning to Baba Yaga, he gives a slight bow, as is his custom. "Thank you Grandmother, for the refreshments. If you will excuse me, I have a promise to keep."
Dharmesh begins to return to the assembled survivors to attempt to organize a more careful search of the ruins around them, once more weaving the magic about him to aid in the search.

Once more activating lifesense and recasting telekinesis, perception check to dig people out final result is 77 due to acute senses augmentation. Charisma check to organize crowd into helping bears a final result of 19.

[ylvathrall]

"This is a hot dog. I can send the recipe to you if you want. Have fun with the sea monster?" Baba Yaga smiles, seemingly genuinely. "I hope you liked your snack. Trite but true, there's no time like your first time."

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash freezes in place just before her second bite, mouth already stretched open. It closes slowly without her apparent oversight, what with her being too busy staring a hole through the old woman's forehead. It's not the kind of glare that generally precedes a wise response, but it is at least tempered by clear wariness.

"Funny thing—I used to think that, too," she eventually says. And thank whoever's left that her tone is mostly just cold, not venomous. Then she returns to that suspended bite with a particularly angry ferocity.

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar raises an eyebrow at the mention of Primordials - that was a term he didn't recognize, and would likely have to do study on later to investigate. Baba Yaga always said exactly what she meant to, and if she had used such a specific terminology, it was with a very specific intent. What her intent might be was a different matter.

Greta, on the other hand, was excited enough by a completely different part of the comment, enough to override her normal caution. "Hey, she said 'first'! That means we're going to kill more of them! Do you think the next one will be even bigger?"

He shakes his head again with a slightly sad smile before turning back to Baba Yaga. "With your leave, Grandmother, I would also return to my duties unless you have further wisdom to impart. Dharmesh will see to the living, and I must now police the dead."

[Hjolnai]

Sensing a potential disaster, Tolben finally steps in. With a very precisely calculated movement, he grabs Shovash and shifts her behind him.

"I - I would like to... to buy a hot dog!"

His silver clatters loudly in the jar. Hands shaking, he nonetheless tries to pretend nothing is amiss.


Reposition combat maneuver on Shovash, rolled in Discord. Result of 49 (natural 20).

[Sepulchritude]

Tolben meets no resistance to his intervention; Shovash appears to have successfully directed all her poor temper at the sausage, this time. She does whip her tail around his waist, and there's a brief tug in the middle of his attempt to order, but she turns out to just be catching herself from a stumble and immediately lets go. In fact, she takes the opportunity to walk a short distance off and examine some rubble, her enthusiasm lost in whatever that reaction was.

[ylvathrall]

Baba Yaga just smiles placidly as Shovash glares at her. "No one promised life would be gentle," she says, in the tone of a mother telling her child that fire always burns. "But I can promise you this. Getting even will feel better than the loss."

She makes Tolben his hot dog, then nods slowly. "Well. I have to be on my way now, but I'll be watching. Tell your Mistress hello for me, Vauma. And do enjoy yourselves with the windy lady, dearies." She smiles again, and then she, along with the hot dog cart, vanishes with the flicker of a teleport spell.

[QuidEst]

"I will do so," Vauma said, smiling and nodding her head respectfully. That had been very pleasant! Well, it would probably be a good idea to go save some more lives. She rummaged around in her pack, found a pearl, and then rolled it around in her hand for a moment before returning it to her pack. "C'mon, Mycetes. Let's find somewhere else that could use some water cleared out." Hmm. She was feeling a bit more lively now, she'd keep an eye out for Aiva.

Pearl of Power to retrieve Control Water, and then go find somewhere particularly flooded to clear out with it. Unless she runs across Aiva first.

[ylvathrall]

Dharmesh and Ragnar make significant progress helping the worst off of the quick and the dead alike, while Vauma lowers the floodwaters in an impoverished district and has an encounter with Aiva the details of which are best left to the imagination.

About fifteen minutes after the fighting is over, a messenger girl from the office of the Lord-Mayor finds the party and delivers a request for their presence at his office to formally receive the thanks of the city, very politely worded. Once there, the Mayor is effusive with his thanks, backing it up with several large pouches of finely cut gems from the city treasury - relatively little compared to the property damage you prevented, but then, there's enough property damage still having occurred that the treasury is probably going to be straining with repairs and caring for the injured and displaced. He also requests, as firmly as he dares (which is not very, admittedly), that you "do something about the giant lizard problem posthaste."

That done, there seems to be little left to do in the city. The survivors are organized and have the search and rescue operations, as well as triage and treatment of the injured, well in hand. The dead left in the wake of the attack have been mostly laid to rest, in spirit if not in body, thanks to Ragnar. Baba Yaga has not reappeared, though Shovash finds a handwritten recipe for beef hot dogs in her pocket. It's written in Abyssal, and includes the phrase "he'll never see you coming" followed by a crossed-out heart at the end. It is also written in pink ink on purple paper. The meaning is not immediately clear.

[Sepulchritude]

"Hmh." The sound Shovash makes before slipping the note back into her pocket isn't quite a scoff. It tries, but she's clearly more cranky than actually scornful. She squints up at the sky above the eastern hills for a bit, shielding her eyes against the morning sun with one hand."You heard her. Windy lady. I'd have guessed an enormous acid rabbit, myself. Do you want to assume it was a useful warning? I know how to ruin a zephyr's day. We could be laying real plans." If the words are hopeful, her face is not. After another few seconds of thought, she grunts noncommittally and turns back to her allies.

"I figure we'll all be preparing for something, so we should at least try to settle on what that is before we separate. Duplicate effort will hurt us."

[TheOneHawk]

Damien snaps out of his sulking when Baba Yaga teleports away, looking down at his one remaining bite of hot dog mournfully. "Dammit, how am I supposed to get these again if she just teleports away!" He says, then sighs and stuffs it into his mouth, continuing, "Someone remind me to ask her for a recipe if we ever see her again, ok?"

[Sepulchritude]

"She'll be in Irrisen in eight years, but there might be a war going on. Apparently the queens are stubborn, occasionally." Shovash shrugs. Most of her attention is on the blocky emerald she's twisting in its setting, on that one ring. "But why would you wait for her to get back, anyway? It's an orcish specialty in the first place, and she's more likely to bake you in a pie for asking than we are. Aha, there it is."

An illusory model of some kind of palace, with onion domes on the towers and a jagged, detached chunk of stone for a base, comes into focus above the back of her hand. She reaches into a fold in her dress that couldn't have hidden a penknife and withdraws a three-foot-long tuning fork. "Tell you what. Come to Wyvernsting in three days and bring a scroll of sending. I'll be holding a feast, and you can have all the dog-sausage you can eat. Might even get the recipe out of Gukkar. But—hmm—that usually takes a drinking match, and he's part dwarf. I could do it, but you'll owe me for the replacement liver."

[AscendingApe]

Taking a moment to consider Shovash's words, Dharmesh will reply in a thoughtful tone. "Well, we do have a few things to research that she told us. I have never heard of primordials before or how they might differ from a normal elemental, nor do I know who or what the "windy lady" is. I do however know of a very comprehensive library in Axis that might have answers. If you have need of me in the next few days, I will likely be there. Tolben, would you care to help me seek out information? I can cover the cost of both of our entry."

"If it pleases you all, you are welcome to visit my home in Vudra for any last minute preparation before the next attack, I am happy to play host to guests."

[Hjolnai]

Tolben sighs.

"It seems I'm not going to get much of my own research done until this crisis is over. Very well, I will take a look inside this library - though I have little confidence in the sincerity of the Witch's warning."

He turns to Damien.

"One more thing. Damien, that was an unusually brutal death. I have to ask, are you okay?"

[TheOneHawk]

Damien grins at Shovash, replying with a simple, "You know I'll be there." At Tolben's question, though, he pauses and actually thinks for a moment before answering, his tone more serious than is his custom. "I'm all right, yeah. It was strange, didn't feel quite the same as other times I've died. Maybe I just never got hit that hard before, I dunno." He shrugs and his grin returns, "Probably nothing, no point thinking about it anyways. I got better, and we squished the big ugly. Another one in a few days, anyone else excited?"

[QuidEst]

Vauma returned some time later, meeting up with the group before people dispersed. "We have a name to look into," Vauma said. "I'll see what I can find about that. I'm happy accompany anyone else staying on the plane, as my research doesn't require a library, just rich soil."

[Sepulchritude]

"Excited in more than one way, I'm sure," replies Shovash with an eye-roll that is, at least, more amused than annoyed. "All right, I have gathering and cooking to do. Mostly off-plane, unfortunately. Dharmesh, I'll be there three hours before, if I don't see you sooner. I'll have preparations to administer. Tolben, bring a few magic walls, won't you? There's no wind in a closed box." Finally, she gives a cheery wave and steps backward into the small cloud of smoke that appears as she vanishes.

[ylvathrall]

The group eventually disperses, each going to their own tasks.

You find Cho wandering a back road in eastern Andoran, singing a sweet love song in Celestial. The singing stops as you show up, and after you explain things, so does the smiling. But she agrees to help, saying that the danger is far too great to stand idle, and comes with you to Axis.

Once there, Dharmesh pays the relatively trivial entrance fee for the three at one of the main libraries in the infinite city. Once inside, actually finding anything proves to be rather more of a challenge than it might appear. The library is 121 floors of stacks, all neatly organized but in ways that do not always make it easy to find things related to a specific topic. The directory alone takes up one entire floor. But over days of labor, augmented by magical support, you slowly drag answers from the stacks.

The Primordials are a topic hinted at, slyly suggested, rather than approached head-on. But you piece things together, consistencies among the veiled references and hints. They are beings that are mortal and simultaneously more-than-mortal, something greater than the flesh and blood of their bodies. Though they have a mortal shell, they are also tapped into primal forces, concepts, raw energies of creation. They are ancient - dating back to long before the beginnings of humanoid life, in the early days of the Material plane. They are all beings of the Material, though many are conduits to planar energies from other planes. They are not outsiders, though their nature varies widely beyond that, including magical beasts, undead, oozes, and plants. Some are no smarter than a slow human, while others have an intellect to shame a cunning wyrm.

Many of the books reference another specific one, The Book of Coming Forth. On the fourth day, deep in the bowels of the seventy-third floor, you finally find a copy, buried in the stacks. It proves to be a surprisingly slim volume, written in Abyssal. Inside, the bulk of it is a list of the known Primordials. None of them have names, or if they do, those names are so ancient as to be known only to the old gods. But they have titles, some of them with a description, most only tantalizing hints. Stormbringer, which sounds embodies the raging sea and sounds suspiciously like the Leviathan you killed, is listed as one of the weaker ones. The Shadow You Cast In Brightest Light is apparently an embodiment of darkness and shadows, linked to the Shadow Plane, described as "seemingly weak, but never trust this appearance in a Primordial." The Iron And Golden is a beast of metal, with control over it and immunity to it. The Crystal Mountain is a colossal creation formed of countless tiny crystals that share a hive mind of sorts. The Freezing Of Softness, born from the purest cold, woven of ice and death. Then there are those that are only titles. Beings such as Windweaver. The Fire Beneath. The War Of The Flowers. Broken Things And Empty Places. Water Moving Downwards. Stone Made Soft. Removal From Equilibrium, the entry of which was underlined twice in a later hand.

The final entry doesn't have even a title. It says only, "The first and greatest of its kind, potent, primal, and eternal. Ancient of days and alien to mortal minds. A Force beyond measure, it was laid low at great cost in a time long ago, and bound, after which the other Primordials were sealed away from Creation."

The final chapter details, according to the table of contents, how this sealing was carried out, as well as how Primordials can be killed, what their weaknesses and powers are, and similar topics.

The entire chapter has been neatly cut out of the book.

You think hard, but cannot recall anything referred to as a Primordial in the natural world - not one. There are certainly things that are primordial in nature, but nothing which has quite that name. You commune with the spirit of a planar explorer, since it seemed to have a planar tie, and find a little more. Primordials were something he heard rumors of on other planes - beings born of the Material but with a conduit to other planes or powers. This suggests a more native magical origin, so you contact the echo of a long-dead wizard given back to the soil. She is able to suggest that these beings are known to her, but only in the dimmest sense, something that was sealed away from the world long before she lived - and she lived in Thassilon. Going on this, you reach out to a historian, but she doesn't know anything except that if someone fought such beings, they were likely very well-respected figures. With this clue, you find the spirit of a heraldic expert from Thassilon, and here you finally find a solid clue.

The Runelord of Lust, Sorshen, counted "Slayer of the Primordial Flame, the Fire Beneath," as one of her titles. Digging into this, you find that the Fire was a gargantuan tortoise that was made of stone and magma, and left flame in its wake. It crushed three cities before she finally destroyed it.

The implications are...ominous.

You go for a nature walk in Elysium, where you are...not precisely welcomed guests, but not outright run out of the plane, either. A group of lillend azatas even puts on a show for Ragnar, though they don't know he's there at the time so that may not really count. You harvest numerous magically and alchemically interesting plants. You repel an attack by Shovash's ex-partner-in-crime and his army, during which Damien does remarkably creative and distressing things to numerous orcs, half-orcs, ogres, goblins, hobgoblins, bugbears, giants, half-giants, trolls, and summoned everything. You are not nerds.

Just under five days later, you reconvene with the others, along with Carreau, Aiva, and Cho, at Dharmesh's mansion in Vudra.

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh once more shows everyone into the sitting room and bids them to eat freely of the food he has prepared, consisting largely of Chana Dal, Bhindi Masala, and Kala Channay, among others.
Once everyone has been seated and has some of the various dishes, he will hand everyone a copy of The Book of Coming Forth, and speak.
"We found this book in a library in Axis," he says, gesturing towards Tolben and Cho, "It details the names and in some cases provides descriptions of the various primordials. It may be of interest that what we called Leviathan, more properly titled Stormbringer, is recorded as being among the weaker ones of its kind. To summarize the text, primordials are largely conceptual beings, as old as if not older than this plane of existence. The book also says that the primordials were sealed away, though the chapter explaining how this was done as well as the various abilities and weaknesses of these beings has been cut out, leading me to believe that this was no mere coincidence or cosmic accident, but a deliberate effort on the part of an unknown party. Based on what the Witch Queen said before leaving, I believe that this "Windweaver" is what we face next. Any thoughts?"
After saying all of this, Dharmesh will pour himself a glass of water to soothe his throat and listen to the others.

result of cooking check was 45.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien briefly leafs through the book he's handed, flipping pages before there's any chance he could have actually read what was on them, then snaps it shut and looks up at Dharmesh quizzically. "So we know it's name. That's... kind of underwhelming, honestly. At least we know what to refer to it by properly once we ruin it's day. Did you lot figure out anything that will actually help with the, y'know... killing it part? Or are we just gonna keep running our standard big ugly murdering tactics here."

[Sepulchritude]

"Tsk. Really, Dharmesh, show the woman the respect she's earned." Despite what she'd said five days ago, Shovash had been among the last to arrive, and she had come with blood still drying on her hands. Her pet mephit had been playing valet, at least, so she hadn't yet been required to touch anything but her own place setting. It's an uncommonly big one, especially thick for an animated cloud of smoke, with bright ember eyes that generally follow Shovash's movements in ways familiars' should not. Right now, though, it stands behind her, eyeing the bookshelves and working its jaw. It smells of jasmine and ermine musk.

"Arabasti's harlot was a witch-queen. Hells, so was I, when we first met, and for several years after. Grandmother Yaga is the Queen of Witches." There's no real need for that specificity, and the woman is almost definitely just teasing. It distracts her from skeptically prodding at the food, at least. Reading the fragmented journal had also been good for that. "So we have names. Very evocative names, and ones assigned by beings who saw these creatures in action. We shouldn't overlook the value of that." She didn't say "..., Damien," but it was clear enough.

"And our investigation is going to be routinely interrupted by having to put one of them down, it seems. The regular timing makes a bit more sense if they were pact- or oathbound, and the names sound First World, to me, so that could be a starting point for next round. Until we make progress on that, however, it's broad preparations guided by suggestive titles. In that spirit..." She fusses with something below the edge of the table; a heavy thump and several clinking glass noises immediately follow. "I've brought you all a few necessities." Shovash indulges in a satisfied smirk that she doesn't bother sharing with the room, then starts piling whatever is closest onto her plate. Her belly is almost definitely swollen, this time.

[QuidEst]

"I managed to learn some information on why we have these things cropping up again," Vauma said, settling in again comfortably against Mycetes to sit out the meal. "Stormbringer was sealed away 'so long as the gods held power in the world'. As for the next one, Windweaver is a spider, queen of spiders. She took over a forest city, filled it with spiders, and let them feed on the people. Burning the whole forest down dealt with everything but Windweaver herself, so I'd make sure to have some fire ready. Crowds of weaker creatures, with a primordial directing them."

[TheOneHawk]

"See, now that's what I'm talking about." Damien chirps, "Actual information, great job Vauma." He summons a small ball of flame in his hand and begins flipping it through his fingers casually as he continues, "Sure is a lucky thing we have a genuine fire master here for this one." He smirks, but no sooner has he finished his sentence than he screws up with his little ball of fire and drops it on the ground, singing the carpet before he can put it out with a ray of frost and a curse.

[QuidEst]

"It did involve burning the whole forest down, so we probably want something a little more targeted," Vauma suggested.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben seems amused, but makes no comment on Damien's antics.

"I think we have enough information now, that I can attempt to scry the Windweaver. There's no guarantee it will work, but it's worth a try. It would be easier if we had a proper likeness, of course."

He pours water into a wide bowl, providing a suitable surface to show the image. Then, he speaks a bizarre incantation and the reflection in the water begins to change.


Greater Scrying doesn't have a material or focus component, and takes only a standard action - unlike Scrying.

Assuming the Windweaver currently exists to be seen, it has a Will save (DC 34, with a +5 bonus because we have only second-hand knowledge).
Vs SR: [roll0]

[ylvathrall]

The water ripples, then goes black. It refuses to lighten into an image, though - there's a hazy suggestion of limbs, twisting and twining, that turn into tentacles and thrum with the power rushing through them, and then it is only churning currents of something that could be air, or flame, or water, or something that has no name.

Then the bowl shatters and the water is just water and it is all over the place.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben hardly blinks at the result.

"Not surprising, really. Such powerful creatures are strong-willed, and not easy to scry."

With a few words, he cleans away the water on the table, leaving the shards of the bowl ready to be reassembled. A more complex casting turns those shards into a new bowl - one even more ornately sculpted.

Spells: Prestidigitation, Fabricate.

Craft (Sculpture) for the sculpted bowl:
[roll0]

[ylvathrall]

After resting and making various preparations, quite exhaustive preparations really, the party is ready at the appointed hour. They sit and wait for the sendings that will tell them where to go.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And briefly get distracted by a kitten.

And wait.

Three hours after the expected time, word comes in from Kintargo. Apparently, a spider is loose in the street. It's not too dangerous - only the size of an average elephant, hardly the titanic beast of last time.

No, the problem is the sheets of impossibly sticky webbing that fill the streets and the thousands, possibly millions, of spiders that throng the webs. Apparently they all rose up at once, having spread through the city's sewers undetected and then attacked en masse once they'd filled it. The spider (presumably Windweaver) which is at the core of it all is only identifiable as such because it continues to spawn more spiders at an alarming rate. As in, a few thousand normal sized ones or a single one the size of a building at a time. Every few seconds.

They aren't having a great time there. The origin spider is apparently currently outside the Kintargo Opera House, dancing in the webs while eating people that its spawn bring to it. It's not a very good dancer. You aren't sure why they felt the need to mention that in the sending, but that's Kintargo for you.

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh doesn't respond to Damien's antics beyond a sigh, he's well used to this by now.
"Allow me a moment to prepare myself then we can go and let Damien indulge his pyromania." Dharmesh then weaves his hands in strange patterns and mutters his incantations, layering spell upon spell on himself and the others.

Burning two phrenic points to extend haste on the party, total duration of 40 rounds.
False life on myself, gain 11 temp HP.
Hermean potential on himself and the rest of the party, excluding Shovash. Duration of 20 minute or until discharged, whichever comes first.
Lastly, dust form on self, burn two phrenic to extend duration to 40 rounds.

[Sepulchritude]

"Oh! That reminds me." Shovash did not immediately look up, being occupied with the task of carefully sprinkling her familiar with a glittering powder that burned up in sparks as soon as it contacted the cloud. "Vauma, you might want to start rain moving in, to cut down on any collateral damage from burning the webs. Not too fast, though; we have to be able to burn them."

Current--
40rds Haste (and for familiar)
-
Speak With Animals
Blur (familiar does his own)
Stoneskin (and for familiar)
Resist Energy (acid, 30)
Bull's Strength (and for familiar)
Greater Heroism for familiar
Greater Angelic Aspect tattoo for familiar [20' Magic Circle Against Evil +4 saves/AC, 20' Globe of Invulnerability, immunity cold/acid/petrification, 10 resist fire/elec, +4 save vs poison, truespeech, 60' good fly, DR 10/evil]
-2 Str to Blood Money
Vivifying Moxibustion Needles [+2 alchemical Fort vs: disease, cold, str dam, dex dam] (and for familiar)

[ylvathrall]

The group arrives at the edge of the city, and finds that the reports were not exaggerated. The spaces between the buildings are all filled with webbing, sheets upon sheets of it stretching between every avaialable surface. The webs, in turn, are thronging with spiders, ranging from skittering swarms of tiny arachnids to the occasional hulking beast that glides through webs like an elephant through china. The webs never seem to be left in poor condition after they pass, though, somehow repairing themselves in moments.

The air above the city is moving in rapid, chaotic patterns. Vauma's presence starts to calm it down, but it will take time before it's possible for any but the most daring fliers to move above Kintargo - for now, it's probably going to have to be through the streets.

[QuidEst]

"Well, here we are. I can calm down the winds in a small area faster, but we'll want to pick the spot well. So where in all this is Windweaver herself?" Vauma wondered, looking around at city's state.

[The Glyphstone]

"I'll take a look."

Ragnar's cape lifts him up into the air, above the tops of the buildings where he immediately becomes buffeted and battered by the chaotic wind currents. They would be impassable to a lesser man, but Ragnar has flown through the walls of a tornado to strike at an enemy hiding within. Mere hurricane-force winds are beneath him, and he calmly rides one violent gust into another in the directions he wants to go, looking out over the skyline in search of the opera house's silhouette.

After a minute he descends again, blinking back into view where he left.

"About a thousand feet northward. Extremely large spider in front of the opera house, and I can confirm it is a very bad dancer. They say some people have two left feet, this one has at least four of them if not more. The main thoroughfare is wall-to-wall solid webs, but I think I spotted a path to the side. If we wind our way between the buildings towards the cematary, then cut northeast at the old smithing district, it's a bit thinner on the ground."

[Sepulchritude]

"Quarter mile north," responded Shovash, after Ragnar had already done. Her real attention was on her supplies and the dense net of webbing that blocked the gate, tenacious despite the force of the winds. "ለአፍታ አቁም."

Her already-blurry form flickered once. A handful of scaled elephant-things, bigger than houses, appeared in a semicircle next to her, faintly shimmering. "Wait, really? Every damned time... ለአፍታ አቁም?" Shovash flickered again. This time, the exercise produced a slowly-rotating ring of burning eyes, loosely centered inside a ring of crowns turning crosswise, collectively held aloft by seven wings. The eye-crown-thing smelled of musk and jasmine. "REALLY?"

Shovash pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered something especially profane, even for Abyssal. The flappy gyroscope was already pressing into the webs, and she angrily waved the titanic mammoths after it. "Fine! አቃጥለኝ ፣ ከዚያ!" The flames that consumed her took on roughly her shape as they rose to triple her height. The bonfire stomped off up the main road with the immediate smell of burning hair.

Looks like I did not press submit four hours ago, after all. Anyway, that's two time stops, giant-summoned fiendish epic girded etc mastodons, her familiar with almost as many buffs up as she has, and inspired spell to cast elemental body 4 for one mythic point. I rolled 29 for the familiar's reflex save, but mostly she's going to be torching a path through the webs herself unless ylva throws a curveball.

[ylvathrall]

The mammoths stride fearlessly into the webs, pushing through them by dint of sheer size, muscle, and bullheaded refusal to be slowed. Swarms of spiders wash over them, biting and tearing, but the unnatural resilience of their hides is so great that millions of spiders fail to make any progress before being scattered and crushed. Shovash burns away the webs behind them, though the flames seem reluctant to spread much, and the rest of the party is able to follow along in their wake.

Finally, after a minute and a half of slogging through the cobwebbed streets at maximum speed, the opera house comes into view. Also in view: a spider standing on a sheet of webbing ten feet off the ground, the size of an elephant, making odd jerky wriggling movements that could charitably be called dancing. Other spiders are carrying in a constant stream of people, all wrapped in web, all still alive, none seeming terribly likely to stay that way without outside intervention. It's in the middle of a large square about thirty feet ahead. The square itself has sheets and strands of webbing crossing it, but there are enough gaps to move through, albeit not in straight lines.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben is rather surprised to come face-to-face with the huge spider. However, it seems distracted by its "dance", and so he has the opportunity to strike first.

He takes it without hesitation. First, he uses a magical rod to skip over most of an incantation - and whatever magics defend the creature are swept away.

He whispers, "I look into the Void..." The Void looks back, and he directs its attention upon the monster. Driven by a new insight, he infuses the effect with another spell.


(Rod) Quickened Mage's Disjunction (Will DC 36 for items to not be suppressed)
Void: Reveal Weakness (-10 AC and saves for 1 round)
Coupled Arcana allows a Free Action Mythic ability of at most a Standard. Thus, Arcane Surge to cast another spell.
Hold Monster (Will DC 32). Vs SR, with +Tier from Arcane Surge - rolled twice. [roll0], [roll1]

[ylvathrall]

The magic takes hold, shattering the spells on the great spider and summoning the Void to sap at it. It still shrugs off the paralysis spell, though, and spins too fast to have not been expecting this. It gestures with one claw, and the air ripples, spheres of wind so intense that the air itself ripples and shimmers appearing. They rush into Tolben, Damien, Vauma, and Dharmesh, trying to knock them into the webs with the force of the gusting air.

That was hardly humiliating at all, a mental voice whispers into their minds, a thought-sound like rustling spiders and wind blowing through bones. Who gifted you with the breath of creation, little one?

[Sepulchritude]

"Śh̡o͘u̶͜l͘͘d̷͜n͡͝'̨͜͠t̢̢͢ ̀͘͞h́́͠ą҉̧v̸́͡e̕҉͠ ̶̢͡ą̷͟s̷̕̕k̷̸e͡͡d̛͠ ̵҉t҉h̡a҉t." The bonfire that had engulfed their companion had almost exactly the voice you'd expect from living flames, and it very nearly crackled too much to make out her words. She raised an arm and pointed at the spider queen, then emitted a grating squeal. It apparently had meaning of its own, because the mammoths charged in unison, crashing into Windweaver in quick succession and scattering around the opposite side of the square. Blasts of fire from across the horizontal span of the elemental followed each impact and lingered, dancing on her carapace (better than she did). "N͢͝o͜͠w̶̕ ̕͜w҉̛e̵̛ ҉̧k̸͝n̶҉o̸͜w̢̕ ̸̡y̧͝o̡̕u͘͘ ́͘c͘͢a̴͝n҉͟'̛͡t̵͠ ̷̸s̴͡è͘ę̨ ̴̨ţ͡h̸̨è̡ ̷̨w̴͢o̶͝r̸̀l̷͝d̢́ ̴̢b͝҉é͠f̴̨o̵̢r̶҉e̵͝ ̢͢y̡͘o̸͡u̶̡ ̷͡e̴̴ǹ̕t̡̧è͡r͘͞ ̨͜i̕͟t̶̴.̕͡"

The angel at her side was quick to follow the first offensive, if largely ineffectual itself. Shovash, sidling around to further surround their quarry, grinned so broadly it could be seen through the back of her 'head'. She crouched down to the spider's eye(-eye-eye-eye) level once she was closer, as though this weren't a potentially deadly situation at all. "D̴̸o̢͟ ̸̀ỳ̶ǫ̸u͞͝ ̵͟t͘̕ą̸s̶͜t̢͢e̶̢ ̶̛b̵͜e̶̵ţ͝t̴͢é͠ŕ̶ ̵͢t̸̨h҉̸a̷͢ǹ̶ ́͝y̸͞o̧͜ú̕r̵̛ ̧́b̷̨r̡͟o̸̢t͜͜h̵͢e̢͘r҉̴?͜͡"

So that's five tramples, five ranged touch attacks, and two claws from the tryhard familiar. Shovash is using up most of her 60' movement to get around to Windweaver's flank and enter melee range from there, in part to sweep that section of the courtyard clear of webs. This absolutely might mean lighting up a few cocoons, but you gotta crack an omelette, right? Dice on discord because there are a ton of them and possibly more to come, and I'll edit in damage later. If we took a minute and a half getting here, she has six rounds as an elemental after this one.

All five rays hit, two crit, for 137 fire damage, less by five times her resist.
Familiar gets a crit and a miss for 8 slashing.
Third mastodon gets lucky and actually steps on her foot for 36 bludgeoning.

Shovash presumably takes swarm damage an unknown number of times, but has DR 5/— and 10/adamantine.

[QuidEst]

Vauma's shroud of protective air is enough to mitigate the blast of air, scattering the vortices. "Hyaline, now!" she called in Sylvan. A pouch opened itself. A moment later, a creature appeared- a tiny, pale hybrid of a woman and a rabbit, mushrooms sprouting from her body. A rod briefly appeared in Vauma's hand as she snapped off a spell, and disappeared before she followed up with another. The area darkens with spores and fungus begins growing rapidly.

<Don't get stay in the dark area- and definitely don't die in there,> Vauma instructed over the telepathic link. <I have spores in her now! If you attack, she'll respond violently to you- I don't know what will happen otherwise. I'll seize control as soon as I can.>

Hyaline, Vauma's summoned guardian spirit, will emerge (move) and use her Ill Omen SLA on the spider (for four rolls), breaking invisibility. She does not have Freedom of Movement. Swift action, activate Smite Threat against Windweaver, since she attacked Vauma.

Vauma will use a Greater Rod of Quicken to cast Cordyceps Invasion. Vauma will then cast Garden of New Life, keeping it back from the group- extending about ten feet out in front of the spider.

Ill Omen is no save. Cordyceps Invasion is DC 31 fort. Garden of New Life is fortitude partial, but it's mainly not moving that's a concern.

If the spider saves vs. cordyceps, Vauma is backing off. If the spider fails, Vauma is issuing a command to hit itself.

[Sepulchritude]

'Oh that's very convenient,' replied Shovash. Her thoughts, fortunately, weren't filtered through the mouth immolation makes or interrupted by her sneezing. She stood back up to get her head out of the cloud. 'I think it's time for walls.'

[AscendingApe]

Recognizing the spells that Vauma laid upon the spider, Dharmesh will slowly clench his fists, drawing them towards his chest before exhaling and releasing his hands, upon which multiple copies of the same ashen figure begin to swarm the area, making it difficult if not impossible to determine the true man's location.
Having completed this, Dharmesh will close his eyes and call from within the power claimed from the death of the Stormbringer, iridescent symbols lighting up along the length of his arms as he gazes at the Windweaver, awaiting its move.

Mirror image cast via quicken spell, burning a 6th level slot, maximum number of copies achieved, 8.
1 MP burned, holding prismatic wall to drop it directly in front of her if she moves or attacks.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien catches the blast of wind full force, but manages to regain his balance and sidestep the webbing directly behind him at the last moment. Walls it is, say no more. Damien seems a little put out to be using his powers for something other than fiery obliteration, but in the interest of being a team player (and not getting eaten by the spider) he creates a brick in each of his hands, then throws them at the darkness where they form into a pair of semi-spherical walls enclosing the beast within.

Wall of stone, quickened wall of stone.

[Hjolnai]

With the immediate threat neutralised for now, Tolben turns his attention to the smaller spiders. Tapping into his metamagic rod once more, he unleashes a horrific spell which dessicates flesh, right in the centre of the largest concentration of small spiders. Their humanoid victims are unaffected.

He then casts a spell of summoning. An angelic figure begins to emerge.


Rod-Quickened Horrid Wilting: [roll0].
Summon Monster IX: Ghaele Azata.

[The Glyphstone]

With his primary victim no longer available, and Tolben looking to clear the area of the smaller spiders, Ragnar sets his sights on the larger spider minions. His hands fly on Greta's trigger as he selects the seven closest spiders to their mistress and plants a bolt directly between the two largest eyes of each one.


Mythic Rapid Shot (+2) and a Ki point for an extra attack. 12/15 Ki remaining, 19/20 rounds of GI and 14/15 rounds of Sense Vitals.

Spread fire across seven giant spiders, hit AC33+ flat-footed for 163 damage each and a DC32 Fort vs Death.

[ylvathrall]

For a moment, the spider seems to be trapped in the stone and the dark. Then, suddenly, she appears out of nowhere floating just outside the darkness, covered in fungal growths and lurching slightly, but still moving. B̶͆̓ͅr̵̗̫̅ǫ̵̬̂̈t̸̬̱̂h̸̺̦̀̍e̷͇͇͠r̶̪̹̐́?̵̬̍́ ̶͓̎P̷̧̌͜l̴͗͋ͅe̷̹͑ả̴̫͛͜s̶̛̜͑e̵̗͛.̷͍͔̊ ̴͓͗̾Į̷͇̂ ̴̫̑̿c̵͍̈́a̷̜͋͝n̴̢͎͘ ̸̡̲̾̂s̶͔̑̇m̶̭̩̆e̸͔̅ͅḻ̶̎̒l̷̞̝̀͆ ̵̬̏S̷̭̈́t̷̤͚̎ő̶͈r̷̙͂m̶̗̔̎b̶͍͉͆r̶̞̕i̴̧̋ń̴̥̙g̵̼͝e̷͘ ͓̖ȑ̷̻̌ ̶̀͜o̵̧͎̓n̶̝̆̑ͅ ̸̘̔̓ȳ̸̻̯o̷͙̾̅ṳ̸̈́̏;̵̤͑ ̵̻̅̀ȉ̷̥͔t̵̲̉̚ ̶̙̐w̶͓̚ȧ̵̜̯͗ŝ̸̗ ̴̖͂ȧ̵͖͓n̷̫̙͘ ̶͔́͠ĭ̴̙̓d̵̡̻̔̉í̵̫̗ȏ̵̡̟t̸̡͝.̶̱̆ ̴͚̪̌Ṱ̸̮̏̅h̵͖̃͜ȅ̷̥͛ ̴̬̏f̶͍̞̆ȗ̸̞ņ̶̽ḡ̴̤u̷̘̫͆̄ṣ̴̨̿ ̵͋̌ͅč̸͎h̸̪̘̆i̷͓͑̐ͅl̴͍͈̏d̶̨͕͆ ̴̝͆u̷͜͝n̶̑͜͝d̷̏͝ͅe̴͔̣͝r̸̰̋̏͜s̴̨̔͐t̶͖̎̚͜a̷̟̎͜n̷̥͑̋d ̸̫̫̈́̐s̵̤̫͝ ̶̛̬̀b̴̪̮̔ê̶͈͕t̷̯̭̀ṯ̸͈̆e̵͇͑r̴̬̬͗ ̸̳́t̷̙̚h̸̺͐à̶͋ͅn̶̥̠̅̓ ̶̯͖̏͋ý̵̬ò̶̮u̴̮̤͋́ ̷͈̅̏d̸̲̎o̶̙͌͘.̵͔͝ ̵̼̓͒A̵̱͠t̶͇̻̅͝ ̵̹͗̿ḻ̵̈́̆e̴͎͑͝a̷͕̥̾͂s̶̮͚̏̎t̷̖̞́͗ ̶̱̲̌̎s̶͍͐h̷̺̃̊è̵̝̤ ̵̠̅k̵͕̘͒n̴̛̚ͅo̷͎͌w̶̳̻̓̽ś̸̼͙͠ ̸̢̗̎t̷̘̎̓h̵̤̿ǎ̵̤̔ţ̴̐ ̸̩̜͌̕ľ̶͔̏ḯ̸̞f̶̦̖͊e̶̦̎͗ ̸̰̏̋ḍ̷̽o̴̹̲͝e̸͔̗͛́ş̷̭̍n̶͔̾'̵͍̱͋ṫ̴͔̗ ̸̧̞̑̾e̸̫͋̀n̵̹̐͊d̷̝͇̾́.̷̘́. The mental voice is garbled, something shredded and pieced back together with much of the meaning and the emotion stripped away, but the disdain is clear as the spider rears up and then descends on Shovash, biting and tearing with her claws. She doesn't seem to understand that her own actions are being dictated by the cordyceps spores.

Millions of spiders pour out of the great beast's abdomen as she moves, flooding over Shovash, rushing over to Damien, and rushing in at the civilians.

Cho moves in, throwing her head back as she shifts, dark fur erupting from her skin and her face transforming into that of a wolf. "Sing of fire, sing of will," she calls in a voice that is half song and half scream, a roar that resonates on a level deeper than conscious thought. "Sing to justify the kill...." At the same time Aiva lets out a long howl-laugh and charges the largest spider present, a creature fully the size of Stormbringer which is currently in one of the streets entering the square. She grows as she moves, until she is the size of a large giant, carrying a crimson blade ten feet long. Carreau, on the other hand, rushes to the civilians, standing over a trio with Sorrow drawn.

[Hjolnai]

Once more, Tolben calls upon the Void to reveal the weaknesses of the Windweaver. This time, the magic woven with the Void creates a thin mist around the creature's head.

He follows that with a quickened spell covering the Windweaver with shining golden dust.

Finally, he directs his summoned creature. "Ghaele, heal Shovash."


Reveal Weakness (-10 AC and saves), Coupled Arcana + Arcane Surge Mind Fog (Will DC 32). Vs SR if present: [roll0], [roll1]. (-10 Will saves and Wisdom checks).
Does not hamper vision.
Quickened Glitterdust (Will DC 29, no SR).

Orders the summoned Ghaele Azata to cast Heal on Shovash, mostly to wipe out the poison's effects but also for the healing.

[QuidEst]

Vauma smiled a little at the dubious compliment, and reached out to direct the influence of the fungal growths now that they were firmly implanted. The overwhelming realization that something was wrong inside wasn't a difficult one to induce under the circumstance, and it was possible to channel that towards very ineffective ways to get it out. "She'll keep retaliating against her last attacker until we leave her alone- then she'll try to claw herself open. Do the spiders follow her? I can direct her elsewhere, provided the growths hold." She waved a hand, clearing up cloud of spores hanging darkly through the webs in order to avoid killing anybody who could be rescued.

Swift: Guarantee an ongoing "attack self" result on the confusion effect.
Standard: Greater Dispel Magic on Garden of New Life; dispelling your own spell automatically succeeds.

[AscendingApe]

Relaxing slightly and allowing the accumulated power to begin to ebb away, Dharmesh looks to Vauma."You seem to have this well in hand, I will begin freeing the civilians. If you could direct it out of here, that would be wise." Dharmesh will take the time to flick the fur of a black cat at the spider, laying a curse of ill fortune upon it, creeping black tendrils coating its hide. His cuse bestowed, Dharmesh will fly up to the web and begin cutting people loose.

next five rolls made Windweaver must roll twice and take the lower result. Duration is 20 rounds or until all five rolls have been made, whichever comes first. It can negate a single reroll by burning a move action to say a prayer to appease the spirits of ill fortune on it, if it knows what's been cast on it. 1 MP burned to cast, relentless casting to secure CL check to beat SR result of 40, no phrenic cost thanks to remade self.

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash didn't make the healing entirely simple, or really, even the identifying her. The stragglers in the webs, those few the mammoths hadn't utterly trampled, had been unable to abide her heat. When the fresh swarms proved to at least contain enough individual spiders that a few survived to do harm, her immediate reaction was to collapse entirely out of humanoid form into incandescent disgust, hot enough to burn blue. The mammoths, with no ongoing guidance, crashed around the area recklessly. The angel just drifted into the heart of the flames and spun in place, only theoretically of use.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien jumps a solid foot in the air when the spider teleports out of her box, only his invisibility keeping his pride intact. Before he can regain his composure, a massive swarm of spiders descends upon him and he is reduced to swatting and trying ineffectively to shake them off.

[The Glyphstone]

Looks like it's time for the main event!

Unwilling to test Windweaver's hearing, or that of her companion spiders, Ragnar only nodded silently. Killing the smaller vermin was obviously of little use while their mother lived, as she birthed more with every moment that passed. Sighting Greta towards the Primordial's bloated abdoment, he fired a flurry of bolts before drifting sideways slightly.


Mythic Rapid Shot for +2 attacks, Haste for +1 attack, Ki point for +1 Attack.

Vs. AC58, 154 damage
Vs. AC56, 153 damage
Vs. AC55, 165 damage
Vs. AC51, 170 damage
Vs. AC45, 162 damage
Vs. AC43, 152 damage
Vs. AC33, 157 damage

Clustered Shots means DR only applies to the first hit. If she is not immune to Ability Damage, each hit also deals 2 Dex damage. If there are any active spells on her, it's a 1d20+20 Dispel check for each hit as well.

5ft. step to one side, just to make it a little harder to backtrack my fire.

[ylvathrall]

Y̴̮̬̒̆́̍̄ǫ̷̝̠͉̫͗̑u̷͍͂̐̊ ̸̗͚̈́͜ẃ̸̖̯̩̤̍̎ỏ̷̟r̶͚̪̤̗̯͂̿̆̾m̴̪͇̓̑̕̕s̸̥̮̭͍͗͋̌̈́̕.̵ ̪̼̙̐͐̒͠ ̶̡̝̹͌̒́͝D̶͔̞͓͓̀̎͒͝o̸̞̘͛ ̶̠̖̮̏y̶͔̖̒̆͜ő̵̡͙̫̏̌̊ŭ̷̢̜̳̦̏͋ ̷̗̊̑͝ī̷̞̭̀͂̓m̶̧̩̖̈́͛ą̸̘̪̊́̈́́̔g̷̢̜̻̤͒̒̇͂͝i̶̺̝̒͒̅̽n ̷̟̀͋̊͂̿ȇ̶̪̦͒͐̐ ̵̖̣̠̈t̷̟̽̔̒̌̿h̴͉̖̿͆̉͝ḭ̵̙̯͋s̸̹̙͝ͅ ̴̳͓̥͕̟̍͆m̴̻͈̖̩͘ȧ̵͉̂̚͜ẗ̸̼́̚͜t̵͈͍̞̫͂̄̇e̵̛̬̍̆̀ȓ̵͖̅s ̴̗̰̣͗?̶͉̭̪̍̎̅͠ ̴̨̯͝T̵͖̙͋ḥ̴̬̎̆͛̀a̷̢͑̑̊̌͌ṭ̷̪̺̓̍ ̸͈͇̈́̌̄̚̕s̸̡̻̤̜̯͊̐͘h̸̟̖̦̔͛o̷͔̣̖͆̂̚ǫ̷͎̬̣̀̉̂̈́t̶̨͇̘̏i ̷͔̟̔͑̕͝͝n̴͎̘̔̆̓̚g̷̭͓͑̍̒̓̀ ̶̖̻̘͊̎̽̌̔m̵̹̹͗͗̈̾ȩ̶͔̀̉̃̀͆ ̶̭̭̖͓̓͘w̷̡̨̛̥̿̈́̒̆i̶̛̙͇̔͗̿t̴͉̾̅͒̕h̵̙͇̲̥̔͐̅̓ ̴̺͗̏b̸̡̨̤̀ồ̷̼́l̶̪̐t̸͖̯̆͝s̶̛̫͒̂,̵͎̈́̌̽̄͘ ̸̺̺̃̀͂̀͝ò̴͕̤̥͈̯̽͊̋̈́f̷̲̑̏͜͝ ̵̡̛̫̼̺̚͜a̶̳̥̭̦̚͘ḽ̶̛̛̠̰̈̉͝l̴̩͈̉̒ ̶̼̙͊̈́t̵̲͉̞̗̞͒̑̈́͊̒h̴̝̓͜͠î̴͚n̵̮͚͛̅ǵ̸̦̉͆̚s̵̨̡͕̬̐͂,̵ ̘̦̘̄́̀͜ ̴͎̦͔̽̅͊w̵͎̣͖̙̽͋̈̆͘i̴̡̥̲̽͐̾̿͆l̴̘̹͖̂͂̿́l̵̛͎͎̔͑̄̋ ̸͈̖͍̱̯̀͒̍̈͋e̵̬͓̹͊͑̾͑n̶̡̛̪̯͙̼͒̕d̶̘̲̹̼̆̌̔̈́͜ ̸̻̬̄t̸̼͓̮̱̽̔͠ͅh̸̯͍̝̉̀͂͠͠í̷̺̜͕͇͖̋̂s̷̛͓?̶̫̲̓̓̾͘ ͉͓͚ ̶̣̗̫̆̆T̶̠͕͔̎ḩ̵͗̈́͑a̵̬͖̣̅̅̍̀ț̵̞̀̒ ̶̩̼̿̋͐̋̇ŝ̵̩͜p̴̲̝̭̪̯̑̊̿̕o̵̮͓͝r̵̥̜̀͘e̵͖̠̱̼̓̈́͋͝s̶͙̙̃ ̯̣ ̷̜͎͌̉̄̍̉g̶͕̺̪̲̠͗i̵͔̪̱̞̬̊f̶͙͎͓̰́͜t̷̠̖͈̔̽͊͘ę̷͙͑́d̵̈́ ̩͍̭̗̄̏̓ ̶̞̫̣̆́̑͋͘b̷̙͓̋̑̈͊͝y̴̳̌̓́ ̶̢̞͔́͌̊a̵̡̺̜̎̚ ̸̺͕͍̬̖͊̍̈́p̸͕̳͈̏̄͠r̸̝͎̹̆̇̂e̷̢̛t̶̪͈̮̝͋̉̚e̶̥̓̒n̴̤̪͕̓d ̴̣͖͓̗̟̆̀e̶̢͉̒́̅͋͜r̷͓͎̘̝̚ ̵̜̦̩͛͘t̸͖̭̾͋́̉͝o̷̧̱̤̜͙͊̚ ̶͉͓͑̆̊͜t̶̞͑̏̋̈́̿h̶̳̮́͊͆͊̅ȩ̶̲̘̜̐̅̃̎ ̴̜͖͙͔̅̓͐l̵̨͍̹̆̿̕ŏ̶͙̃r̶̝̫̈̒̓̑͜ͅͅd̴̜̟̝͋̀͛'̶͖̟̲̪̙̎̐̕ ṡ̶̙̫̗ ̴̟͇̤̤́t̵̡͙̩͎̼̂̊h̵͉̱̑̆̄̈́͠r̶̛̰͕͐ȯ̴̡̦͖̜n̸̨̆̐͒̋e̸ ̙̂̓ ̶̜͂w̷̛̤̘̙ì̷͇ĺ̴̨̯̘͝͠l̵̫̯͂ ̷͎̈́̒̀s̵̡͓̲̓͊͊t̶̠̳̪̪͂̈́͘o̷̪̫͇͑̎̈́̚͝p̷̡̬̱̪̹̽̅͑̓̇ ̵͕͓̪̯̲̏̓̕m̸̨̹͙̯͋̓̿̈́́e̵̢̛̳͚̮̾̏̅̇͜?̵̛͓ Windweaver's voice is calm, albeit distorted, even as she almost experimentally claws at herself. At the same time, a single spider is disgorged from her abdomen - quite a step down from the swarms of moments ago, or so it seems for a moment. But this spider rapidly swells in size, growing from a normal spider to a jet-black creature the size of a building, positioned directly between its mother and Ragnar.

[Sepulchritude]

Dͤoͦn̲̖'͂̾t͍͢ ̖͉l̤̦͛ò͒ͅo̫̒ͪk͓̳̊ ̜ͣ̽͒d̪ͤ̈́̈oͦͮ̅̚ŵ̴͋͢n̴̯ͦͫ ̝̦͔͊o̙̼̒̽ń̸̞ͫ ̷͍̱̥m̷̢͡͝e̸̯͂͘.̩̣̅ͬ ̏ͦ҉̾I̲ͧ̿̆ ̢̎̀͢d̥̄̔͠o͚̯͟n̵ͯ̚'̶́͠t̖͉̞ ̪̑l͆̋ö̑o̴ḳ ͗up. The fire that was Shovash burns suddenly brighter, blue yielding to violet as though a chemist had salted it with alkali. It stretches in either direction around Windweaver, hands rising from the tongues of flame in the gestures of spellcasting erratically before flickering away, and voice jumping too much to usefully follow.


"S͝w̥e̻è̫t̹͛h̶͂e̫̮̘ḁͭ͘r̳̐̓t̅͒͆,͕͚̻̎ ̡͇̥̏ÿ̢͝͞o̰͙͂̉u͈̾̃ͭ͝'̵̜͆ͥ͢r̷̜̜̋̀ĕ͔̻̓̇ ̭͔̩͆͘j̬͇̫ͮ͜ṵ̓͛͘͝s̥ͪ͆̐̕t̮ͨ̋̎͘ ̢̨̃̐͡ă͈̰͙̼—

̸̬̩͗͜—ṃ̸̢ͮ̕o̖̙̓ͯ̃r̞̠̙ͮ̆ṅ͍̍̎̎i̴͙̖̱̭n͍̻ͫ̊̔ḡ̦͈ͭ'͕̄ ͒ͥs̵̝̭͕ ̵̛́̽d̬̟͕i̻̔͞s̙̋̑t̗̺̅r͇͒ḁ҉c̬͒t͒ịo̞n̫. T̉h͖ě ̦͟o͒ͧn̢͗l̬͓͊y̤͊̏ ̼̽̇s̬͔̚h̭̊ͯ̃â͐̏͜m͓̠ͨ͛e̷̙ͮͫf̨͆̐͌u̝͋͡͡l̨̺ͨ̓ ̭̹̱̂—

—p̈̒́͘͝a̬̲̖̺̍r̖̜̗̳͗t̶̰̺̔͘ ͇́͢ͅi͚ͦͤ͝s̴̹̥͜ ͚͂̊ͅy͒̄͒̋o̸̙ͮ̓u̢̨̒͌ ̒̉̄c͇ͦ͟a̶͜͠n͈̆͋'̏͂ť͚ ̙͙t̀͘e̎l̐l̹. I̠ ̹h̷a̤ͅṯ̡e̦̯ ͒ͨ͜t̹̱̑o̮͔̜ ̱̼҉d̼̜̭̒o̺̣͌̿ ̈ͪ͑͠t̨̮͕ͯh̴͉ͩͨi̲ͫͣ́ş́͡҉ ̷͙̩ͪt̵̲̆̾o͐̿̀͌ ͍͋ͤ͜a̠ͧ̑͡n̲͚̂ͥo̵̥̞t̷̽̚h̟͔̋ę̮ͯr͕ͦ͛ ̠̟mͭ͊ȍ͊t͒h͇e̴r." The mostly-humanoid shape from before coalesces for just an instant and reached for the spider's abdomen. " መደነስ ይማሩ።" she hisses, voice low and momentarily clear, then she melts again into a bodiless rush of flame, leaving her handprint sizzling in place behind her. Shovash takes a winding path around the courtyard that passes by the rampaging mammoths, sending them stampeding at the new threat, rolls right over Damien, burning him and the swarm alike, and eventually heads out into one of the uncleared streets beyond.

Okay, so that's a 33 melee touch attack with 4 fire damage and a DC 29 Will save vs irresistible dance, five bull rushes from the mammoths in an attempt to knock Yung Rachny out of Ragnar's way (31, 35, 43, 47, 49), and Damien takes 9 fire damage and a kiss on the forehead.

[TheOneHawk]

With his spider problem solved by a slightly more painful than usual hug from Shovash, Damien shakes off the last of the burnt corpses and turns his attention back towards Windweaver. "Ok, enough playing around." He says, with an edge to his voice. He points at the spider and lets a jet black stream of energy erupt from his finger, then glances at Beatrice as they say in unison, "STOP," and the world obeys. With everyone and everything else at a standstill, he conjures a handful of glowing orange beads and throws them between Windweaver and her massive spawn, then grins and permits the world to begin moving again. Once it does, he counts down from three with his fingers, then just before the beads explode he spins away from the blast and strikes a pose.

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar shrugs, flying upward and around the impeding spider-spawn to get another unimpaired line of sight towards the injured Windweaver. The power of Stormbringer's soul crackles in his veins, the Primordial titan's phenomenal speed muted to a pale shadow of its living self but still enough to grant him a burst of peerless dexterity. His fingers fly so fast they would be invisible if he wasn't already shrouded in concealment, firing two bolts into the side of the Primordial spider's flank.


Move 90 to get line of sight. Fire once, Distance Barrage to fire again for 1 MP. Hits for 306 total

[Hjolnai]

Since the Windweaver no longer seems to be an issue, Tolben turns his attention to the remaining giant spider.

"Just go away."

He gestures and chants, and a withering barrage of force projectiles leap at the creature.


Intensified Battering Blast, Maximized by Spell Perfection:
Vs SR: [roll0]
To hit: (+13 normally, +1 for Haste) [roll1], [roll2], [roll3], [roll4], [roll5]
Damage: 42, 42, 42, 42, 42
Bull rush: [roll6], [roll7], [roll8], [roll9], [roll10] (take the highest and add +10 for each other hit)
If bull rushed, reflex save DC 32 or fall prone.

Quickened by Spell Perfection:
Vs SR: [roll11]
To hit: [roll12], [roll13], [roll14], [roll15], [roll16]
Damage: [roll17], [roll18], [roll19], [roll20], [roll21]
Bull rush: [roll22], [roll23], [roll24], [roll25], [roll26] (take the highest and add +10 for each other hit)
If bull rushed, reflex save DC 32 or fall prone.

[ylvathrall]

The bolts land home, and then a massive explosion of fire and light and sound fills the air. Windweaver...there's not much left of her when the echoes of the blast fade. Pieces of shell, fungus, juices of a disturbing green-black color, and foul-smelling burned bits. The colossal spider surges forward at Damien, but Tolben's blasts batter it to death.

Unfortunately for Damien, he's looking away, and thus doesn't realize that the spider's shattered corpse is falling on him. He ends up trapped under an enormous spider body, also ensnared in burning webs.

Aiva laughs and Cho takes up the sound, discordant and harsh and somehow still beautiful. The pair surge forward, carving a path through webs and spiders with axe and sword and tooth. Carreau continues to stand guard over the civilians that Dharmesh is rescuing.

The other spiders are moving in chaotic almost-patterns, tearing into anyone that comes close but otherwise lacking in organization.

[QuidEst]

"Hmm. I'll start a moderate rainstorm to start clearing out the smaller webs and spiders. In the meantime, can anybody do illusions of giant birds flying overhead? Whether the spiders try to catch them or get away, it takes their focus off people," Vauma suggested, concentrating on the weather magic. She sighed as she saw Damien get crushed in the conflagration. One of these days, he'd at least stop wasting money on removing the fungus.

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash had already left, familiar in tow, when the spider toppled. Her mastodons sank into the ground almost immediately, leaving only brimstone scorch-marks on the paving stones. The light from her fire vanished shortly after that, replaced by a dark haze just visible over the lowest buildings as it rolled down the side streets, opposite the direction Aiva and Cho had gone.

Given Transformation, Greater Angelic Aspect, Unholy Aura, Fiendish Wrath, Touch of Rage, flight speeds, magic weapons, +40 heal checks, a fire damage breath weapon, and whatever else she and her familiar can pull out, I'm sure a long street-to-street mop-up would just be tedious, not challenging.

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar returns to his usual quasi-visibility, letting the razor-bite of phantom thorns fade back to a stinging prickle, and drifts down to the blasted remains of what was once Windweaver. His peerless marksmanship will be of little use clearing the streets of their spidery contents and knotted webs. But he can offer this newest slain Primordial the same respects on passing as he had its reptilian cousin, before turning his attention to her victims and survivors. There is no head to identify this time, or really any recognizable body parts at all - but in the carpet of bilious green juices there is still the fading sense of presence. When it is gone, Ragnar heads out to begin his own form of clean-up.

[ylvathrall]

As the rain starts to fall, the spiders scurry en masse for the sewer entrances, hiding down in the dark where they were spawned. The larger of them are unable to get back in, of course, but Aiva, Cho, Carreau, and Shovash are quickly reducing their numbers to the point that they are unlikely to menace anyone else. The webs themselves seem likely to be significantly more problematic to remove, but without the malign will of Windweaver influencing them, they seem to have lost something of their supernaturally clinginess, and without the spiders infesting them they're only irritating to the civilians, not truly hazardous. Dharmesh manages to save numerous people from swarms of spiders indoors and extricate them from the coccoons, while Ragnar finds some restless spirits - not as many as in the wake of Stormbringer's attack, but some.

[QuidEst]

"Mycetes, could you go fetch me Damien? Or part of Damien? Whatever works," Vauma said, hopping off. The overgrown (in both senses) wolf lumbered forward and started shoving the carcass around before eventually returning with an arm. She took it. Any decorum of the process had been lost in the repetition. "Hey, Heiress. It's him, Damien. Again." Before long, a new Damien was growing from the arm, fungal growths sprouting while skin grew around them. "Welcome back."

[TheOneHawk]

"What the... what happened?" Damien gasps once his lungs work, or exist for that matter, again. He looks over at where his explosion obliterated Windweaver with a questioning look. "We won, why was I dead?" Seeing the mushroom colony that was animating him, he quietly cursed and said, "Nevermind, one minute," then teleported away, appearing next to Vauma again perhaps 30 seconds later, sans fungus. "Mind filling me in on why I was mushroom, again?"

[Hjolnai]

Tolben directs his summoned angel to heal the wounded townsfolk while it remains, and paces angrily until Damien returns.

"Damien, what in the Pit did you think you were doing? Killed by a falling spider corpse - a new low for you! Will you please be more careful?

I have work to do. You lot can deal with the boring speeches without me!"

With that, and a few words, he is gone.


Tolben casts Greater Teleport to go find a magic shop - he has scrolls to buy. I'll come up with a shopping list shortly.

[Sepulchritude]

The shadows rolling through the eastern neighborhoods persist perhaps another quarter-hour before winking out entirely. Shovash does not rejoin her companions, however, even for as brief a goodbye as Tolben's. Rather, at that moment she appears several hundred miles away, above the Western gate of Daggermark, sitting casually on the parapet, her ankles crossed and kicking above the road into the city.

"I'm looking for a lich," she declares to the guard just to her left, before he quite has time to notice her on his own. "Perhaps you've seen him? Tall for a former human, very grim, highest expectations you've ever worked under?"

[QuidEst]

”Tolben about summer it up. You’ll save a lot if you just let them grow, you know,” Vauma commented mildly.

[TheOneHawk]

"Let them... the mushrooms? Ick. Mushrooms are gross!" He pauses, glancing at Vauma's extremely fungus laden form, then coughs and amends, "I mean, uh, I just don't really think they work with my, uh, complexion. Yeah. Anyways, I hope you guys left me something to finish off!" At which he spins around and walks away quickly, looking for spiders to burn.

[ylvathrall]

As you wrap up the bulk of the work of clearing out the spiders and webs, a messenger arrives from Lady Melissa Sereni, the current head of what passes for government in the city after it broke free of Cheliax's main government following the disappearance of Asmodeus and the resulting governmental chaos. She says that to her regret she is unable to meet with you in person, being too occupied with organizing disaster relief, but she wishes to say that Kintargo owes you a great debt and that you are welcome to call on her at need. Also, the messenger is carrying four thousand platinum pieces and two relics from the city's vaults.

What he must have been threatened with to deliver that honestly probably doesn't bear consideration.

Forty thousand gold worth of cash, and two items, a cape of free will +6/+5 and a cloak of quick reflexes +6/+5.

Tolben is easily able to find a magic shop carrying numerous scrolls. They offer him a 5% discount as the savior of two cities and defeater of the cult of Rovagug, which really isn't much considering how long that took, but it's a nice gesture.

The guard stares, then shakes his head. "You, uh, you must be talking about Valdr. Yeah. He's probably meeting with the guildmasters of the stonemason's and blacksmith's guilds right now, I heard something about him talking with them about reinforcing the defenses?"

[AscendingApe]

After seeing to the survivors and the accepting of rewards, Dharmesh will place Tolben's share in a separate pouch, making a mental note to give it to the man when next they met.
"Now that that is done, I must agree with Tolben, there is much to do. If you have need of me I will be in Axis." With a quick incantation he is gone.

Rolling diplomacy on library, total result of 47.
Will save to start following the training regimen, final result is 47.

[Sepulchritude]

The guard stares, then shakes his head. "You, uh, you must be talking about Valdr. Yeah. He's probably meeting with the guildmasters of the stonemason's and blacksmith's guilds right now, I heard something about him talking with them about reinforcing the defenses?"

"Mmm. Helpful boy," purrs the... demon-orc-woman-thing, right before she pitches forward off the wall. She swoops low enough to run her fingers through the grass before recovering altitude and circling back overhead. "I'll be back before I leave!" she promises, then arcs through a lazy turn toward the noisy, smoky part of the city. Disrupting a planning meeting about walls and weapons sounded like a great time. Besides, the real threat would hardly be stopped by another few tons of stone. Her skin fades to a muted blue-violet on the way, and her racy gown to a dun peasant dress more suited to an Ustalavan farmer's daughter than to, well, Shovash. Valdr wouldn't care one way or the other, of course, even assuming he noticed. But there's always the audience to think of. By the time she touches down on the roof of the best-decorated building in the district, she hardly even looks reckless.

[ylvathrall]

Inside the window, you see Valdr, a skeleton in a fine robe decked out with magical trinkets. Crimson lights burn in the depths of his empty eye sockets. He is currently listening impassively to a man in fine dress who looks like he's about to ruin it with certain bodily excretions explain in a shaky voice that constructing that many siege weapons in that short of a time frame is not possible. Considering that the number in question seems to be in excess of fifty, he's probably right.

At the library, you get given the runaround. One person tells you to talk to another who says that it's in another department which sends you back to the first, repeated with minor variations for three hours. Finally, however, you get the answer you wanted: there is a record of who checks out each book for reading, tracked magically by an enchantment on each book. The entire entry for The Book of Coming Forth is redacted.

That's all you have time for before you receive an urgent sending from an Iroran monastery you once visited in Vudra. Apparently they're under attack by a rakshasa lord of some kind, and the monks are failing to fight off the attackers.

The next day you take a trip out to the near reaches of space, as far as a normal teleport spell can take you, and look down on Golarion from a distance that most people can't even imagine. It's really no surprise that people think you're detached; they would be too, with this perspective.

Looking up, such as up is, you see a whale floating through space placidly, arcs of electricity filling its mouth and coiling down its body.

It's an oma - a type of magical beast native to the gas giant worlds of the system. Though not intelligent, they are ponderously strong, and capable of incredibly flast flight through the vacuum of space - it can travel between planets in a month or less. They're used as living space ships by some of the natives of the gas giants.

The next day, while maintaining a moderate rainstorm to keep the suddenly-larger spider population in check, you get a vague feeling inside you, a feeling that you recognize as a nudge from the Heiress. Something isn't right with your fungal home.

Two hours after taking down Windweaver, you get an urgent sending from a contact of yours who's an expert in transmutation magic in Absalom, relaying a message sent to him from the Mana Wastes. Apparently some sorcerer-general from the Great War between Nex and Geb in distant antiquity, dead now for a very long time, is proving to not be as dead as she should be. Specifically, she's a ghost. More specifically, she's a ghost who is now raising hell, or possibly the Abyss, over something or other and interfering with trade through the Wastes. Naturally, your contact thought of you.

The next day, you get a message, delivered by a tiny ferret which runs up and chirps at you with a bow tied around its neck and a letter attached to the bow. It reads, in calligraphy that would make a scribe weep but which is largely lost on you:

Dearest Damien,

I do so apologize for my long silence. Truly, I don't know how to excuse it, save only to say that I felt not quite myself after the battle, and I did so deeply wish to mend the rift in our friendship circle, I fear it overcame my good sense. You remain, as always, my dear friend, and I wish you (all of you) only the best.

Also my violin is broken please fix it.

Cassie

[Hjolnai]

Enthralled, Tolben mutters to himself (though the sound cannot propagate past his Life Bubble):

"So vast... Our world is wondrous, and yet meaningless. And the oma - I never really thought about what it meant, that the gas giants are populated, but they are greater than our own world. Irrelevant in the end, but nonetheless..."

Despite the distraction, he soon returns to the task at hand. Namely, a survey - he must see what the world looks like when it is not the day of an attack. His prodigious memory leaves no need to draw the result, so any deviations will be noticeable when the next attack comes.

"Hmm... All of my maps are wrong. Not to worry."

He takes a particular eye to the River Kingdoms, to see if Valdr's work noticeably distorts the land.

Once he is done with observation of this side, he teleports again to survey the other side of the world and repeat the process.


Tolben had to prepare some spells he wouldn't normally - particularly more copies of Greater Teleport. These are reflected in his sheet at the moment.

He has Knowledge: Dungeoneering +29, so he automatically identified the Oma.

[The Glyphstone]

"The reward for a good job done right is another job."
"Isn't the reward for a good job done right gold and treasure?

Tracking down one of the local arcanists, Ragnar haggles for a Teleport to Quantium. Once there, he begins looking around for whatever information he can find on this renegade re-awakened ghost, before setting off south into the Mana Wastes in search of her.

[Sepulchritude]

Inside the window, you see Valdr, a skeleton in a fine robe decked out with magical trinkets. Crimson lights burn in the depths of his empty eye sockets. He is currently listening impassively to a man in fine dress who looks like he's about to ruin it with certain bodily excretions explain in a shaky voice that constructing that many siege weapons in that short of a time frame is not possible. Considering that the number in question seems to be in excess of fifty, he's probably right.

The window was probably locked, but it's not as though Shovash tries it, first. Instead, she presses a tiny chip of stone against the center of the frame. There are words, but they're swallowed up by the ring of cracking brass before they can quite resolve. The hasp inside shatters, the window falls open, and the demon crawls inside from above. It isn't a way of moving that really fits the demure peasant look she'd been trying for.

"Sit down," she commands sternly, when her sudden entry naturally inspires some animated reactions. And then, a moment later, "And relax! I'm just here to visit an old friend. You can go back to being terrified of him in a few minutes. Valdr! It's been a while, you old buzzkill. How's the Fearsome Tyrant life treating you?" She flashes the utterly mild sort of smile that doesn't even acknowledge there might be something objectionable about what she'd just said. Or done.

That's two greater commands. It's a DC26 Will save for up to 21 of the assembled guild factors, assistants, and guards to stop sitting or relaxing for the next couple of minutes. DC27 if by some mysterious moral failing they're able to find the voluptuous monster girl desirable.

[QuidEst]

Receiving the sensation of something being wrong about her home, Vauma spent a brief period wrapping up business in the city- casting the weather spell as one locally affixed, rather than tied to herself, and so on. At last, she got together with Mycetes, casting the spell to whisk her away to her sanctuary.

Word of Recall to the island.

[TheOneHawk]

After wandering around the streets for a while blasting any spider he can find that for whatever reason didn't manage to get into the sewers to take cover from the rainstorm, Damien gets bored and teleports himself home for the night. He wakes up well after dawn when the ferret finally manages to rouse him by jumping on his neck. At first he's pretty reticent to leave the comfort of his bed, but once he manages to read the note he's up and about quite quickly. "See that, Beatrice?" He says, holding the note up to his bird who's only response was a dismissive glance and a ruffling of feathers. Unperturbed, Damien continues, "I knew Cassie would get in touch eventually, it's gonna be great to see her again! Plus with Cho joining up to fight Windweaver, hell maybe we can get everyone back together again and play music just like old times!" He quickly prepares himself, then teleports himself to a few high quality music shops around the globe before he finds a satisfactory violin, which he purchases and ties with a bow before teleporting himself to Cassie.

[ylvathrall]

You see nothing out of the norm in the River Kingdoms. However, on the other side of the world...is that a battlefield far, far larger than any you would expect, near the coast of Tian Xia? In Tianjing, right next to the great rift to the deepest Abyss that you know to be there...?

The teleport goes off smoothly, and you end up in Quantium. Then you turn around to thank the mage, and see a familiar nine-tailed kitsune with emerald eyes and a wicked smile. "Hey handsome," Suiko says. "Been a while."

The guild leaders sit, terror warring with raw calmness in their eyes. Valdr turns to you, hand raised as though to cast a spell, then sees who it is and relaxes. "Ah, Shovash," he says, his crisp, clipped voice almost friendly. "It has been some time. I hear your clan is doing well, I'm glad to see that you are as well. Governance is proving somewhat tedious for me, there are so many things to balance in running a kingdom, but the work goes smoothly enough."

Upon teleporting back, it doesn't take long to identify why you might have gotten an inkling of something not quite right. The twenty-seven aboleths in the near shallows around the lake would be a good indicator even without their forty-five minions crawling around the island, tearing up mushrooms.

The spell drops you right next to Cassie. Or it would, except there's a teleport trap spell on the area, so it actually drops you on the front step of a mansion. It's five stories tall, three hundred feet on a side, and made of stone with ornate carved gargoyles. It's even more impressive if you know that she conjured it with a single spell, which you don't because you're not particularly well educated. The front door is black wood bound with bronze and has a knocker in the shape of a wolf's head.

Upon knocking, it takes several minutes for a response. Then the door opens and Cassie dives out at you, tackling you to the ground in a hug.

You are now grappled.

[AscendingApe]

Mildly perturbed by the distraction from his important work, Dharmesh will send a short response of "I am on the way, and will try to bring another. Hold strong," before with all haste making appointments with the keepers of the records and exiting the library, taking the time to lay protective enchantments on himself and sending a message to Shovash before vanishing with yet another expenditure of the power bestowed by the death of the primordial, appearing above the monastery, aloft on his wings, searching for this rakshasa..

"Shovash, a rakshasa lord is in Vudra, attacking monastery in Bhali which appeared just as I was making progress, suspicious. Please, help me bind it."

Casting dust form for incorporeal
Activating wings
Casting overwhelming presence, link below
https://aonprd.com/SpellDisplay.aspx?ItemName=Overwhelming%20Presence

[Sepulchritude]

The guild leaders sit, terror warring with raw calmness in their eyes. Valdr turns to you, hand raised as though to cast a spell, then sees who it is and relaxes. "Ah, Shovash," he says, his crisp, clipped voice almost friendly. "It has been some time. I hear your clan is doing well, I'm glad to see that you are as well. Governance is proving somewhat tedious for me, there are so many things to balance in running a kingdom, but the work goes smoothly enough."

"They really are," she crows, happy enough with the pleasantries for the moment. "Garka—she's the potioner I took as an apprentice—well, she's really developing a cool head and a sharp eye for when one of the warriors needs a little something extra in his beer to keep the peace. I can finally step away for more than a day without utter disaster! Well, not when there's a new pack brought in, of course. The mortic tribe from last week is still closing themselves off and clinging to their own identity. "

"You know how hard it can be, working a new team in after a merger. I'm sure you do," she casually lobs at the guildmasters. There's no way she isn't teasing them, at this point. But it's an aside, and she quickly turns back to finish her point. "Unfortunately, I don't have the freedom to focus on breaking that independent streak properly. That's what brings me here in fact. Can I assume you've heard about Magnimar? Skelt at least? I've just come from Kintargo; the spider queen who nearly destroyed it was even more... productive than I am." She rests a hand on her swollen belly to clarify and arches her eyebrows, awaiting the lich's response.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben looks down on the world again, the experience slightly less moving the second time.

At first glance he sees nothing tremendously surprising, as he once more commits the image to memory. "I really must have an accurate map drawn up. But how to account for the curve of the world?"

"Wait... that smudge in Tianjing, I don't remember that from my maps or books..."

He conjures a Wall of Force and spreads his portable hole upon it, wincing as the rush of escaping air jostles his fragile equipment. From it, he pulls a telescope, its own interior fortunately not air-tight. He recovers the portable hole, and puts his eye to the heavy glassware.

At this distance, the smudge is still nearly impossible to recognize, until he realizes that the speckled black-and-white terrain consists of spent campfires and pitched tents. From there it is not far to see formations maneuvering, though the individual people cannot be made out. A battle - and one on a vast scale.

"Strange. I hadn't heard of any wars in Tian Xia. And on so large a scale - so close to the Abyssal rift..."

He sighs, the air rushing out and hissing throughout his Life Bubble.

"I suppose I should investigate. Another invasion would be just my luck."

He casts his final Greater Teleport, putting himself a few minutes flight from the battle.

[ylvathrall]

"Some people do so cling to their mediocrity," Valdr says, his tone commiserating. "As for Magnimar, yes, I heard, and I got word of something in Skelt. Something to do with giant monsters? Frankly, I assumed it was an exaggeration and figured some other band of up and comers could deal with it. Do these things really demand your personal attention?"

You land back on Golarion, looking out over the battlefield. It's night right now, locally, but the fighting still rages, lit by massive magical or alchemical floodlights. The troops on one side appear to be mostly a mix of plane-touched races, aasimars predominating, and humans. On the other...fiends. Qlippoth, primarily, but there are also some things that are unquestionably oni, as well as possibly some daemons and you think even perhaps demons - strange, to see demons and qlippoth on the same side, but then these are strange times. Less common examples of the type, sakhils and rakshasas and such, pop up every now and then.

The scale of the battle is every bit as large as it looked. The fiends are swarming against earthen embankments with mage-crafted walls atop them, the defenses all recently erected by the looks of it. Their numbers are...impressive. Almost impossible to count, even without the darkness confusing it - there are too many. At an estimate, this battle includes perhaps five thousand of them, and there were others you saw from orbit. The defenders, even with the advantage of fortifications and the support of mid-rank magic, are struggling to hold the line.

[Hjolnai]

"Oh, absolutely excellent. Another invasion." Tolben's sarcasm would be biting, if anyone were close enough to hear it. "Well, I suppose Damien will be happy. He does like destroying things." And I know I can reach him.

Tolben then casts several spells in quick succession - leaving a tsunami to disrupt the qlippoth and their allies while he disappears.


Spells:
Time Stop [roll0] rounds
Greater Scrying (to see Damien and the area close to him, for teleporting)
Quickened Dimension Door (to get in range for Tsunami)
Tsunami, which has a duration so it'll still be around for at least a few rounds after the Time Stop. Positioned to strike a large contingent of fiends.
Greater Teleport, to go talk to Damien

[Sepulchritude]

"Some people do so cling to their mediocrity," Valdr says, his tone commiserating. "As for Magnimar, yes, I heard, and I got word of something in Skelt. Something to do with giant monsters? Frankly, I assumed it was an exaggeration and figured some other band of up and comers could deal with it. Do these things really demand your personal attention?"

Shovash considers the sharp points of her nails for a bit before replying, and when she does, the answer comes with a sullen inflection. "More than just mine. Eight went to Magnimar. Could have been done with four, but that would have tripled the civilian casualties, and I am trying to offer them the carrot before the stick, after all." She shakes her head and presses her lips together tightly. Behind her, something soft and smooth and warm coils around the ankle of the nearest guildsman and fidgets with the buckle of his shoe.

"Frankly, it demands more than that. They're not quite the spawn of Rovagug, individually. But if the volume Dharmesh retrieved from the Axis central archives is accurate, their numbers and variety will overtax us before half of them have escaped their cages. No, what this situation actually demands is gods." If any of their companions were apt to suggest they relent from their ban, Shovash might have been the last. And Valdr would certainly have been the first to kill the falterer for proposing it. If it weren't for the eagerly sinister smile spreading across her features, what she'd just said would be completely unthinkable. She made no immediate offer of clarity, however. Can't set the hook before the fish bites, after all.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien, not expecting such an exuberant greeting, winds up flat on his back from Cassie's "hug" but quickly returns the embrace. Beatrice, for her part, caws disapprovingly from the arm of one of the nearby gargoyles where she perched after she effortlessly avoided being knocked to the ground like a fool. "It's good to see you, too, Cassie!" Damien says, with a soft chuckle, "Mind if I come in? I expect your chairs are rather more comfortable than your doorstep and I have some great stories to tell about what we've been up to since you left. Oh, and I bought you a new violin. I can probably get your old one repaired but I figured you'd want one in the meantime. How'd you break it anyways?"

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar gives a small sigh, turning to the kitsune and eyeing her somewhat warily. "Naturally. It has been a while, hasn't it?" If she had gone out of the way to disguise herself as a Kintargan mage just to teleport him to Quantium, there would be at least one followup 'joke' waiting.

"Suiko! Long time no see! Well - you know what I mean. How've you been?" Greta's inexplicable like of Suiko, who at sometimes acted more fey than actual Fey, had never really made sense to Ragnar, but if she had possessed any actual control of her body the crossbow would have been vibrating with excitement.

[ylvathrall]

Cassie giggles and lets Damien up, nodding. "You can come in, of course!" she says. Right then Tolben teleports in out of nowhere, appearing right next to Damien. "I broke the violin playing too exuberantly, it was quite a silly mistake," Cassie continues, completely as though nothing just happened. "Oh, don't mind the servants, they're simple unseen servant conjurations - a feature of the mansion. Hello, Tolben, have you been well?" Her tone is entirely casual.

The guildmaster lets out a muffled but very relaxed shriek as something coils around his ankle. None of the attendees say anything, though fear is starting to war with the relaxation on their faces. Valdr ignores them completely, and nods along with what Shovash says. "Fascinating, really, that they have been attacking one at a time like this. How consistent have they been about it?"

Then, however, she gets to the part about gods, and he goes perfectly still in a way that living people can't. It looks more like he's simply inanimate than like he stopped moving. "And why would you say that any situation demands gods?" he asks, his tone so completely blank of emotion that it speaks volumes on its own.

"Oh, you know how it goes. Things to see, people to do...really, I've been swamped," Suiko says to Greta, completely ignoring Ragnar, still grinning. "Howsabout you? Stick in the mud here let you kill anything interesting lately?"

[Sepulchritude]

The effect would probably be at least disquieting for anyone who remembered what fear felt like. For Shovash, it's just a signal. Her eyes alight with triumph, she lets the question hang in the air briefly to address the captive audience. "Do any of you have a cigar? I know you can't stand up, but toss it my way, would you? I'd say one for the lord Valdr as well, but you know... No lungs." She turns back to the skeleton and shows just enough sense to not drag it out further.

"Because their binding took the efforts of gods, and held them for as long as the gods rule Golarion." She's crowing now, decidedly. "But we found nothing to specify which gods. Valdr! This was a binding nearly on the level of the Dead Vault! Do you remember how pleased Asmodeus was to leave the world to us? I would bet my eyes he wrote the contract. And he never does that but leaves a loophole he might be able to exploit. It's entirely like him to keep open the option of defeating all his rivals and raising a new pantheon indebted to him for their divinity. Or some other nonsense, but the point is, he can't make tricks only he can use. He's too arrogant to abide that." Triumph and wicked glee, precisely. She can barely sit still for all her excitement now, and she loses the coordination to merely spook the poor guildsman—her tail slithers further around his ankle and takes to writhing, and the pincer tip grabs his shoe firmly enough to prick him through it.

"Aroden was a lucky hack who pulled it off alone. Between the three of us? It's as good as done."

[ylvathrall]

"Fascinating," Valdr says, still in that very blank tone. None of the guildspersons say a word, though one fumbles out a cigar. "If you have a plan, Shovash, do share it with the class, or else go bother someone else. I have a meeting to get back to."

[Sepulchritude]

The poor fellow she'd been antagonizing gets a reprieve when Shovash's tail snakes out to grab the cigar instead. Something in her sleeve lights it on the way to her mouth, but Valdr's poor humor has already ruined the effect and she puffs at it thoughtfully, not in celebration. "It should be obvious, really. You haven't been shy about your own..." Then suddenly she brightens, and balances the cigar against a tusk when she grins again.

"Oh! that's right. There's more you don't know than I realized. My apologies. Valdr, there are no scholars on this plane who know more about the paths to ascension, tested or not, than you. That is why I'm here. By my estimate, your principal need is for hands-on experience. Suiko has been working on that, and I don't want to entirely spoil her surprise, but I think she's nearly a demon lord by now. Nicer, of course. You know what she's like." She pauses to rub a pinch of some kind of resin onto the cigar just behind the ember before taking a hard drag and holding it. Develops a bit of a nostalgic expression, meanwhile.

"Ahh. Well, she and I have actually been working on related projects. New kinds of life, in both cases; mine is less esoteric, but not by as much as you think. And the part I forgot would be news to you, the element you both need—" She leans in now, pupils dilated from whatever that meaty smell is, but also from excitement. "I had evolved beyond my birthright three times already, last we spoke, by voiding the boundaries between this plane and others. I can feel the rifts in my soul that span these worlds, whenever I give it an ounce of attention. But now I have become a blade, and I cut whatever rifts I please. Not with spells; I'm not talking about more summoning or traveling, though those have become even easier. Just with the urge... the hunger really, for more than this. The raw power to break the laws of our mortal condition."

She's on a roll, now, eyes shining, voice rising like a—Well, like someone who probably gives a lot of inspirational speeches to her troops, really. Which makes sense. Her spells end partway through this particular speech, but the things she's saying... "Imagine, Valdr, what you could have become if all the training and preparation you put into shedding your flesh had been lain on top of the kind of power that makes flesh irrelevant in the first place. How far your reach might have been. What you could have, and could yet, become. Our old friends are treating this invasion as a problem to overcome, even with, I gather, similar rebirths of their essence. I say we overcome this problem, conveniently saving Golarion in the process, by treating it as a stepping stone to what we've been saying about gods. It's not just possible; it's within reach. I can feel it in me and I know this feeling. But I need the two of you to help make sense of it, and I want you both to partake of it. As soon as we seize divinity for ourselves, the binding is restored, the invasion ceases, and we foil Asmodeus' plan to force us to void the Adeios Pact. This is the opp—"

'Shovash, a rakshasa lord is in Vudra, attacking monastery in Bhali which appeared just as I was making progress, suspicious. Please, help me bind it.'

She scowls suddenly, though it doesn't much dampen her enthusiasm. "Well. I'll let you go back to your meeting. But catapults will repel an army, not a primordial. If this new threat comes to the River Kingdom, the preparations that will help you are the ones I'm talking about, not what these unfortunates can build. Give it some time to think through; I'm going to find Suiko and confer about our progress. And be alert, five days from now. That's when the next attack is expected... somewhere. Send for me at once if it turns out to be here. There's nothing to be gained by waiting and more of your future worshipers to lose."


'A name, twenty minutes, I trap it until your suspicion is answered. Find me in center of town or I'll draw attention to be found.'

[Hjolnai]

Tolben recovers quickly, long since accustomed to the disorienting effects of suddenly being somewhere else.

"Good morning Cass, sorry to drop in so unceremoniously. I've been well. And you? It has been too long."

He extends a hand to shake, unsure how she will take it given her recent instability.

[ylvathrall]

"I will...consider it," Valdr says, sounding almost reluctant. "At length. And rest assured, should the next of these primordials attack here, I will let you know. And...my thanks. I am sorry I am not a better host, but the needs of the times are pressing. Whether armies and walls will repel a primordial or not, I need them for the peace of mind of my subjects. Image is everything, you know as well as I." He nods, courteous if a touch dismissive, and turns back to his meeting as you leave.

Cass takes Tolben's hand, her own feeling rather cool, and elaborately bows over it. "It has indeed," she says. "Please, do come inside, make yourselves at home. Would you like something to eat?"

[Hjolnai]

"Oh yes, certainly. Thank you. But I have news you'll want to hear first. Tianjing is being invaded by a bizarre mixture of qlippoth and fiends - an alliance which should never exist. Nonetheless, as we speak they are giving battle. That's why I came to find Damien - you're always up for some destruction, aren't you Damien?"

He pauses only briefly, taking a seat. Looking at Damien, he continues:

"More to the point, I'm out of teleports for today, so I hope you'll cast them to get the others. It wouldn't do to handle this on our own, would it?"

[Sepulchritude]

Maybe Nethys, if you like that better. You don't really seem the type to be patron of a people." With that, Shovash vanishes back out the window and the guild leadership enjoys their freedom a few seconds earlier than expected.

---

Less than half a minute later, her bat-winged form spirals lazily out of a cloud high above the city-state of Bhali, banking in the broadest possible way toward the heart of the small city that anchors it. It provides plenty of opportunity for the watch to spot her and decide on a response. As she nears the outlying buildings and angles downward for a faster approach, her smile is the sort that anticipates trouble—eagerly.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien grins at the mention of his destructive tendencies, but his expression quickly turns wry and he glances over at Cass before returning his gaze to Tolben. "Something always has to come up, doesn't it. Alright, I'm in." Turning to Cass, he continues, "How about you? We could use your help, and the faster we deal with this the quicker we can hop back here and have that lunch you promised, maybe even play some music like old times, try out the new violin I got you. It'll be great, you in?" He gives Cass his best winning smile, which prompts another derisive squawk from Beatrice on her statue, though she remains otherwise quiet.

[The Glyphstone]

"Got to put a giant hole in a giant lizard a few days ago, even though it was cheating with wind and rain and stuff in the way. Yesterday was a giant spider monster, but I only got to shoot her once, Damien stole the kill - you probably heard about that one since we just came from Kintargo. Now we're off to find some crazy ghost lady and there won't be any shooting at all and it'll be super boring."

Ragnar rolled his eyes, a small enough movement to be seen without causing him to phase. "And we'd best get to that, unless Suiko would like to share with the class the punchline that's worth all this setup?"

[ylvathrall]

The city of Bhali is normally a prosperous, albeit rather small, city anchored by a large monastery of Irori. Normal features include guards on the walls, a below-average level of corruption, smug merchants wandering the streets, and monks. Normal features do not include a horde of rakshasas clamoring at the city walls, but there's a first time for everything.

It's hard to estimate their numbers, between the chaos of battle and the constant flickering of illusions being cast and dismissed by the fiends. But a fairly conservative estimate still puts it as "more than the guards" and it's pretty obvious that the defenses are not going to hold much longer.

Anyone with any particular skill at reading a battlefield can see that the rakshasas are swirling around a clump southeast of the city proper, movements starting there and rippling out. Clearly this is where the enemy commander is. Fortunately, Shovash is rather good at reading battlefields, and also knows a little about rakshasas, and thus naturally concludes that the actual command center is due west of the city, because rakshasas aren't stupid enough to be that obvious and putting it exactly opposite would be what someone who saw through it would expect.

Cass cringes at Damien's question, her hands moving in strange twisting gestures that have nothing to do with magic. "But I haven't since...since..." she starts, then closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths. "I can take care of travel," she says a moment later, entirely calm and businesslike in her tone, eyes still firmly closed. "Um. Where are we going?"

"The punchline is I punch you," Suiko says, waiting for Ragnar to react (or not) before giggling. "No, silly, I wanted to say thanks. I'm fond of Kintargo - the music scene is really something, there's this one dance hall where I took two sisters and turned into their childhood tutor and, well, fun times were had. Anyway. Did you like the spider dancing? Pretty piece of work, if I do say so myself, which I do. So whassit about a crazy ghost lady anyway? You wouldn't believe how hard I had to work to make sure it was me you asked for the teleport, I don't want to bail now."

[Hjolnai]

"Great, glad to have you with us," Tolben says without hesitation. "We'll need to find Shovash first - she knows something about armies and mass combat. She said she'd be... um, I have a spell for that. Give me ten minutes?"

Tolben raises his hands and takes a breath, ready to begin casting Discern Location.

[TheOneHawk]

"Ten minutes? You don't even know where we're..." Damien looks momentarily exasperated, but then catches himself and turns to Cass, offering her the new violin. "Wasn't quite what I had in mind, but shall we? We even have an audience, of a sort!"

[ylvathrall]

Cass takes the violin, and begins tuning it, eyes still closed. When they open, she has a smile on her face again, a reserved sort of smile, and she begins to play.

It's beautiful. Not beautiful in the same way that it would have been the last time you played with her. No, this is beautiful in a way that would make angels weep and bards give up playing forever, knowing they could never match her. After a few moments she begins to sing as well, and her voice is rich and resonant and seems to evoke images and feelings and even physical sensations as she sings an old, sad folk song about a girl who loved a boy and thought that was enough. The whole time she still has that same smile, quiet and reserved and more than a little sad.

Okay, now you're a day ahead, so have to wait for Shovash and Dharmesh to play catch up.

[Sepulchritude]

"Huh. He definitely indicated just one. So much for that binding." All in all, Shovash does not sound overly concerned. She does stay high enough to be largely out of range of archery fire, but you would too, if you suddenly arrived at a town being overrun by fiends, looking like nothing but a demon's silhouette overhead. Once she's had a chance to take the lay of the battle and sift through the most likely misdirections—somewhat easier when they were intended for viewers near ground level—she rolls into a dive.

As she passes her closest to the battlements, she releases a spell to bolster the defenders' weaponry, then uses the accumulated speed to create distance again before they turn any of it on her. Always risky, meddling when you weren't invited. The magic wouldn't turn the battle: it wasn't strong enough to ignore the protections of rakshasa hide, and she wasn't really trying to turn the battle anyway. But it would slow down the inevitable and give her time to investigate.

By the time she nears the pavilion all the troops have been so carefully not paying attention to, she's moving in a much slower glide. She doesn't have a flag, but the train of her snow-white dress flutters behind her for at least twice her height. She even lands gently, far enough from the command tent to allow for the theater of an escort.

Aroden's Magic Army actually seeing first use on humans, not orcs? This is heresy. But it's +4. Meaningful, but doesn't bypass DR/good, so it's only that +4.

[QuidEst]

"Really? What's the meaning of all this, then?" Vauma grumbled, riding through the air on Mycetes. She spoke up louder, shouting in the hopes that the aboleths would pick it up where they were. "Oh, don't be a nuisance. We got rid of the gods. I thought you lot hated gods. What're you bothering me for?"

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh takes a moment to take in the sight before him. That is... Decidedly more Rakshasas than he had been expecting. Regardless, he had given his word to help and gone to the trouble of calling Shovash, something which would probably come back around later.
Speaking of Shovash, Dharmesh notes her arrival and moves to follow in her wake. As he lands next to her in the pavillion, ashen body rippling in the breeze, he sends a telepathic message. "Hello Shovash, I apologize for the surprise of numbers, I was only informed of a single Rakshasa Lord."

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash brushes off the silent apology with a dismissive flick of one hand that smoothly becomes a touch sinking into his forearm. Her fingertips are just damp enough to stick to the dust. "For luck," she explains, as a stain whorls through what passes for flesh, like ink dripped into water.

That's a silent scroll of True Skill at CL 22 for Dharmesh, and she's going to take a moment to cast it herself for Diplomacy. I think Dharmesh gets to pick the skill when he uses the tattoo.

[ylvathrall]

A quartet of rakshasas arrives after a few moments, weapons sheathed. Two of them have the heads of tigers, one a visage like a leopard, and the final one six colorful, writhing serpents in place of arms. It's the last of them that speaks, bowing deeply with the snakes twisted into an elaborate pose. "We welcome you under flag of truce and parley, in the name of Lord Javara," she says. "This one is your servant, to escort you to the Lord and provide comforts as due an honored guest."

One of the aboleths in the water, larger than the others, rears up out of the water as you approach. "I am the representative of my kin sent to commune with you," it says in Common, its voice strange and warbling, but comprehensible. "We are aware of your actions. We are aware of the repercussions. We wish to discuss them. We apologize for the necessity of damaging your home to draw your attention."

[Sepulchritude]

"Ah, there's your maharaja, Dharmesh." Judging by the tone, Shovash has decided to treat the occasion like a social call. It's almost precisely the distracted ebullience she'd approached Valdr with. Turning back to the servants—No, back to the servant. As soon as the envoy with the snakes had used the third-person, Shovash's attention observably contracted from the full group to just the Representative, as though the additional escorts had been rendered invisible by that detail. Her head dips respectfully, albeit only a fraction of what she is shown.

"Javara, you say? I don't believe we've met; let's not keep them waiting. You may send the message ahead that I am here only on personal matters; the tribes have no interests here." As though she is less of an army for having come alone. As though she and Dharmesh could not take to the field and upend it. Her smile is impossibly benign.

[ylvathrall]

The serpent-armed rakshasa straightens and nods, then leads you through the field to the command center Shovash spotted. Once there, she gestures, and the rakshasa guards move aside, letting you into the pavilion.

Inside, an enormous buffet table strains under the weight of platters and platters of food, pitchers of various drinks, and bowls emitting sweet-smelling smoke. The servants look to be humanoids, all with vacant, glassy stares. There are a number of rakshasas in the pavilion, but one draws the eye immediately. He is seated at the center of the table, looking at the entrance. He is tall - seven feet, at a guess - and muscular, in a lean, lithe sort of way, more a cat than a bear. He has the head to match, a gold-and-black tiger's head with pronounced teeth and amber eyes, and four arms that end in backwards-facing paws. One is holding a glass of some dark liquid, while the others are occupied with picking at a plate of goose.

He stands as you walk in, setting his meal aside, and walks over. "Master Dharmesh, a pleasure," he says with a short bow. His voice is low and a bit husky, but not enough to be off-putting. "And the Lady Shovash, as lovely as the tales say." If she doesn't stop him, he takes her hand in two of his and bows over it, brushing his lips against the back of her hand lightly. "I am Lord Javara, the leader of this host. Please, have a seat, make yourselves comfortable. To what do we owe the honor of hosting two such distinguished guests, might I ask, if you think it not too forward?"

[QuidEst]

"Hmm." Vauma nudged Mycetes down towards the ground. "Well, that makes a lot more sense. If you're willing to go to that much trouble, I'm certainly willing to hear you out." Thinking about it, the island probably should have some easier way of contacting her. It would be a bit rude to count on Heiress to relay such matters. In the back of her mind, she was considering how to arrange things.

[The Glyphstone]

"Well, if you're actually here to help..."

Ragnar flickers with a shrug. Suiko could certainly be useful, and if this was the rare instance of her not pursuing some hyper-convoluted prank and just returned a favor - even an unintentional one - he wasn't going to turn it down.

"I got a message from a contact. The ghost of an old sorceress-general from the Great War's started manifesting and wreaking havoc on trade routes across the Wastes. This rare interval between random giant monster attacks seemed like a good time to come down and see what's disturbed her and how to resolve it. Some people know there are problems you can't solve with bolts, however much they are inclined to opine otherwise." Greta mutters inaudibly in response.

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh's face at the moment lacks features, but those who know his body language well can tell that he holds the sheer display of decadence in contempt. Acknowledging the bow with one of his own, he waits for Javara to be seated first before sitting down and responding to the question, his voice echoing as if from a distance. "Lord Javara, I am pleased that we are able to speak civilly. I have come because I was asked to assist in the repelling of a powerful Rakshasa from the monastery located here." Best to be direct when dealing with fiends. He politely declines any offers of food or other indulgences offered, citing business before pleasure.

To Shovash, he sends a message via telepathy. "Will the name Javara be sufficient for your binding? If it is, play along for perhaps a half an hour and make an excuse to leave."

[ylvathrall]

"This one's information is limited," the aboleth says in that strange burbling voice. "The Great Lords of the Deep have imparted only partial knowledge upon their servants. What is known is: your actions have disrupted old cycles, very old, and unbalanced many things. All is tumult. Who will come out the better for it is a question, the answer known to none. We will remain neutral as we always do; we have no stake in this affair. However. You have driven out the upstart gods for a time, and for this you are owed a balance. And your Mistress is not a foe of ours. So. Three questions. Choose wisely."

"Excellent! I happen to be quite good at solving problems with things other than bolts. Unless you mean lightning, or possibly silk." Suiko smirks, then falls in a step behind you as you go looking for information. What you find is irritatingly vague. A sorcerer-general, that much is consistent, who fought for Nex in the Great War. She held down a key fortress in what was at the time a strategic choke point, with cliffs falling away sharply on either side. Since the end of the war and the founding of Alkenstar, trade caravans through the area have used the same route that armies once did, and avoided the keep out of simple common sense. Everything was fine.

Everything is no longer fine. She's active again, she's stopped three caravans and left only a few survivors, who managed to get something of the story out. The general is angry, she wants...something related to the War, and she feels like now is the time to act on it.

"Very well," the rakshasa maharaja says. "If such noble persons as yourselves wish for us to leave the monastery alone, we will of course withdraw at once. It would be unforgivably rude, not to mention idiotic, to go against your request. Although...if I may. Have you considered why we might have a grievance against the monastery? And the response from the immortals should you interfere in such matters? I would be an inhospitable guest indeed not to warn you of such things. I'm sure you understand." He smiles, the kind of smile a tiger wears when it knows the prey will soon be cornered.

[Sepulchritude]

"Cousin!" Shovash's chiding tone is mostly playful, but the umbrage doesn't sound entirely put on. "Treat yourself to some peace of mind, won't you? Dharmesh is here to investigate, before any other action. And I am here because I just can't resist a friendly wager. Or these dates." She plucks a handful from a bowl on the table and bites one in half, chewing with a bit more sensuality than is really necessary.

"Really, amazing. There's never a good enough reason to come south and stock up, but I always try to be sure I—Ooo! We should discuss trade opportunities once this fuss about the monks is cleared up." Turning briefly, she beckons for one of the servants carrying a bottle before returning to the conversation at hand.

[ylvathrall]

"Ah, I have spent too much time among untrustworthy people, it is clear," Javara says, taking a drink from his glass. A servant carrying a bottle of the same dark liquid that the rakshasa is drinking pours a goblet for Shovash. It smells like blackberries and tastes like shadows and fire, and also blackberries. "Well, you must understand, cousin, that this is no mere idle battle or senseless attack. This is war - and we did not start it. This monastery opposes our very existence, our survival. They spearhead an organized effort to prevent new rakshasas from forming, along with other Iroran temples and monasteries in Vudra. They hunt us, they hunt mortals who would experience this glory after death and kill them in a way that prevents them from becoming as we are."

He smiles. "Is it such a great surprise, now that they are not sheltered under the hand of their god, that we would have a bone to pick with such a group?" He takes a leg of goose and eats it in a few bites, including the bone. "But yes, a trade deal, that would be good. Prosperity to both our peoples, no? A much nicer topic for such a lovely day. Do try the shrimp, the slaves did a wonderful job with the seasoning."

[QuidEst]

"Very considerate of you, and I'm quite happy to forgive the… vandalism, since you're doing it to do something for me," Vauma said politely, and then quietly consider the questions. Asking about the primals made sense, but she did need to consider how to ask it. Well, it would be best to start by establishing some reasonable parameters. "I do not wish to hastily squander the balance, as to do so would be an insult. I will preface my questions with a statement of what number question of the three I'm asking. Other questions are not be interpreted as relating to the balance. It would also be rude of me to wait too long in satisfying the balance. However one defines the work of getting rid of the gods, it was at least three months, since it could be no less than that from start to finish. Make a representative known and available to me near this island until my third question is asked, and if so, then I will have the third question asked by the end of three months."

[The Glyphstone]

"No time like the present, then."

After stocking up on enough mundane food and water to travel out to this fortress and back, Ragnar sets off to his destination in search of the specter who needs laying to rest. One way, or another.

[ylvathrall]

The aboleth closes its bulging eyes for a moment, swaying from side to side, then opens them. "Negative. We judge your odds of survival for a period of three months too low. We will not risk our debt going unpaid. You may have five days only. This one will remain here as our representative for that period."

The other aboleths and their creatures begin returning to the depths.

The trip out to the tower is a harsh one, by the standards of those who haven't fought a qlippoth war. There are magic-warped beasts, an ancient golem, a mana storm, and a kitsune telling a seemingly endless series of knock-knock jokes with Greta's gleeful aid. Eventually, though, you reach the keep. It's a single tower, which looks like a half-melted candle eighty feet tall made of stone. It's impossible to say what made the stone of the upper portions flow like liquid wax, though "magic" is a solid guess. The tower is surrounded by a curtain wall some forty feet high and twenty feet thick, made from a single piece of uncarved stone. A three-legged coyote is currently napping against it, but there's no gate or other means of entrance aside from a single window near the top of the tower.

[The Glyphstone]

"Look, Suiko - it's one of your relatives."

Leaving Suiko to splutter at the implication foxes and coyotes were in any way similar, Ragnar approached the creature up to a polite distance away. Particularly in the middle of the Mana Wastes, the odds of it being an ordinary animal were effectively zero. "I apologize for disturbing your rest, sir. Would you happen to know the current whereabouts of the shade of Kirana of Nex?"

[AscendingApe]

Taking a moment to consider what is being said by the Rakshasa, Dharmesh speaks calmly, aiming for a tone of neutrality.
"If what you say is true, then you would perhaps be justified in an attack upon the Monastery. But this is no mere attack on a single temple, but a whole city. I will not claim to understand the loss of your kin, but more bloodshed will not bring back the dead. If you will call off your soldiers for a mere twenty-four hours, I will leave to the Monastery and return with representatives, so a peaceful accord may be struck."

To Shovash, he sends a silent message "If you help me in resolving this, I will help you to add these Rakshasas to your empire. Consider it repayment for your favor."

Rolling diplomacy to try and convince the Rakshasa to agree to a temporary ceasefire, result is 41.

[ylvathrall]

The coyote looks at you, then looks up at the window, then looks back at you. Then it stands and hop-limps away into the desert.

"I think he was making fun of you," Suiko says helpfully.

"I cannot call a ceasefire, I am afraid," the rakshasa maharaja says with seemingly sincere regret. "You must understand, I am a field commander only. I do not make the, ah, big picture decisions about how this war is prosecuted. If you tell me that you want me to quit the field, I have the authority to order a retreat in the face of superior forces. But to say 'no, for one day we will not fight, but only stand on the doorstep and let them fortify themselves?' I cannot do that. You would have to talk to my liege, Prihasta, the General Between Heaven and Hell - and I cannot request a meeting for you." He shrugs helplessly. "If you can convince the monks to abandon their city walls and face us on the open field, then we do not need to make war on the city, as you say. Beyond this, there is little I can offer you aside from hospitality."

[Sepulchritude]

"Oh, that's an easy one!" Shovash interjects, lowering the goblet from her lips. And then she hastily takes another sip before continuing.

"Dharmesh, is there a reason to not arrange that direct confrontation? It would dramatically reduce the losses going forward. And without adding a personal vendetta from a demigod to your troubles!" But then she pauses and taps her lip contemplatively. "Hell of a test of your puissance, to be sure. But Prihasta doesn't have any interrupted research to distract her. I don't like your odds; I have to be honest."

[QuidEst]

"Fair enough! Have a good swim in the meantime, and thank you!" Vauma called brightly. Well, that certainly narrowed the questions down a bit, Vauma mused. She was sorely tempted to spend one question as a meta-question to get good questions, but she'd need to give it some thought. Primordials, for one. She was curious about the location of a certain phylactery, but that seemed like something they were unlikely to know. Well, what did she want? She'd have to give some sort of criteria if she asked a meta-question anyway. Really, she mostly hated the idea of missing something important. So, asking for what the information they thought she'd most regret not learning from them? Phrase that to get the information and not just a description of it. So really, she had two now if she was going to ask about the Primordials. That was a good start. Workshop those, ask them, and figure out the third one with the additional information? That sounded decent.

[The Glyphstone]

"Perhaps. But at the very least, he did not appear to object to our presence. Time to see what's inside, I think."

Lifting off the ground in the grip of his feathered cloak, and trusting that the primal magic would not interfere with an ongoing spell effect like that, Ragnar glides up to the open window of the tower and peers inside.

[ylvathrall]

"I'd pay dearly to watch that fight," Javara says with a slight smile. "Now. Am I ordering my people to retreat from the attack, or no, hm?"

At the top of the tower, you see a bare circular room that takes up the entirety of the tower's circumference. There's no furniture, which makes it easy to see the ghost in the center of the room, a translucent, slightly luminescent human figure in pale robes. She glares at you as you fly in. She says something in a language you don't know, but recognize as Osiriani, the main language of this continent. It sounds like an old dialect.

The aboleth makes a twisting gesture and then wades back into the ocean.

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash's snarl is immediate, bestial, and loud. Her tattoos flare brighter and briefly writhe as the magic beneath her skin strains to emerge. And then a moment later, she is composed, smiling sweetly at her companion.

"Dharmesh? I believe the Maharaja has offered a compromise to spare the rest of Bhali. If you feel it's fair, I could make that happen, leaving you and he to relax and discuss the matter that drew your personal attention to this conflict." She takes a sip of the wine. It's beginning to stain her lips plum.

[AscendingApe]

Dharmesh sits impassively, seemingly in deep thought. When he responds, though his features cannot be read, his voice is steady and determined, the impression very much that he is gazing directly into the Rakshasa's eyes."I see. If peaceful compromise truly is impossible to arrange, then I am afraid you have left me with no choice Javara," he says excluding the man's rank and title quite deliberately. "You may run away to your mistress to inform her that I have seen fit to leave my important business to the side to personally see to a quick conclusion to this matter. I thank you for your hospitality, such as it was, but I believe we both have things to be doing, now don't we?" He says as he begins to stand.

To Shovash, another message is sent."I am sorry that this was a greater matter than I believed it to be when I first asked for your aid. Will you help me win this war, my friend?"

[Sepulchritude]

Shovash maintains the air of placid good humor, and keeps returning to her glass, while Dharmesh thinks through his response, and all the way up to the bit about running to the mistress. That's when she halts in place mid-sip, still as a painting. She follows the monk with her eyes when he stands, and only sets the wine down, very deliberately, when he looks expectantly her way. The deep breath that straightens her spine is just as slow and deliberate, but hints of the easy familiarity of moments ago peek through when she turns to Javara.

"Well, we can't always get what we want; that would get boring. I'm afraid I've promised this very hurried gentleman my assistance for the day, so if he is forced to take the field, I and my servants will be joining him. I trust it won't come to that, not at this level of authority, hmm?" The erratic flicking of her tail resembles a cat's before a pounce just a bit too much, and the talons at the end keep grabbing at the rug when they pass that low. She reaches up, left-handed, toward the big rakshasa's cheek. "Come, kiss me goodbye. The next time we meet, I suspect it will be at a battle."

[ylvathrall]

"A shame," Javara says, with a gusty sigh. "Well, I see no need to delay, then, and I am certain that your time is as valuable as my own. But ah, a kiss from one as lovely as the renowned Lady Shovash is no small thing, hm?" He takes a final long drink of wine and stands to kiss her, letting her dictate the pace and intensity of it, before taking a step back.

"Karata," he says, and a jackal-headed rakshasa straightens at once. "Sound a general retreat from the field, and prepare one of the bed slaves. Actually, make it two. I anticipate an...interesting discussion with the General." The other rakshasa nods and hurries out of the pavilion.

"Well, do you have any other business, or will you be taking your leave of my...hospitality?" Javara says, his expression unreadable.

[AscendingApe]

"No, I believe I have said all I need to." With that, Dharmesh leaves, awaiting Shovash before taking off towards the monastery. There was much to do before the rejoining of the battle.

[Sepulchritude]

Shadows and fire. Shadows and fire and considerable smoke. And blackberries. Shovash doesn't let the kiss become completely inappropriate for a warm good-bye, but even the dazed slaves might suspect she'd rather not be leaving so soon. But with a sigh—and a wistful glance in the direction Karata left—she nods in response to Dharmesh. "No. Certainly nothing I'd call business. Terrible pity, really; I was serious about the dates. Perhaps another time. We'll see how things go." And then she follows him out.

She is not so polite, it turns out, as to move far enough away before taking off that the downdraft doesn't blow right into the tent behind her. The lingering heat from her lips doesn't flare to burning until she's above the walls, watching the lines shift away from the city. 'I won't wage your war for you. But the humans will not decide which peoples may live.'

[ylvathrall]

The rakshasas pull back the same way they were attacking: in coordinated, orderly fashion. They keep marching long enough that if you keep watching, they go out of sight over the horizon. The defenders look...dazed, and confused, like they are waiting for the next blow to land, waiting for the next assault to come in sight.

When it becomes clear that no such attack will come, a ragged cheer goes up from the walls.

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar gives the spirit a polite bow, before replying in Necril.

"I do not speak your birth tongue. But I have learned the language of the dead so that I may better hunt their kind. Do you also speak this tongue?

Greta remains at his hip, but he is ready to draw if the ghost proves hostile. Trying to communicate with her in the language most often used by the empire she spent her life fighting might not endear him to her, but it was leaps and bounds better than asking Suiko for help. Attempting charades would be superior to asking Suiko for 'tongues'.

[AscendingApe]

As the cheer rises along the wall, Dharmesh will take to the air, soaring directly to the monastery, ignoring the joyus shouts. This was by no means over, but there was little harm in letting them be happy for a few hours. Once he arrives, he introduces himself and immediately begins to seize control of the situation, issuing orders for reinforcing the city, they'll be back with worse soon enough. First among his orders are either mages capable of casting sending or scrolls of such, there are people to call. He will dictate messages to anyone capable of reliably using the scrolls, then will first see to the evacuation of anyone not able to fight, followed by resting to prepare for the battle to come, trusting Shovash to add to the defense in her own way.

This message is from Dharmesh, of the Monastery of Untwisting Iron. The Rakshasas seek our eradication. Spread this message, and prepare for war.

This message is sent for Dharmesh. Damien, my friend. How would you like to use your unique talent for destruction? Come to Bhali, there's war.

This message is sent for Dharmesh. Tolben, my friend, I need your help if you can spare it. War is brewing in Bhali, please come.

This message is sent for Dharmesh. Cassie, my friend. I know you've secluded yourself, but I need your help. I'm in Bhali, where war brews. Help.

[ylvathrall]

The day closes out without further attack, but the feeling of impending doom in the air is strong. The next morning, the city is tense and taut, like a harp string tuned too tight.

You get the clear result that Shovash is in the Vudran state of Bali.

"You want some tongues?" Suiko asks, her tone seductive, while the ghost stares and then says in Common "This tongue will serve. Why do you interrupt me?"

You receive a message from Vauma early the next day through your mental link, ripped from a succubus's body. Called away by the Heiress, many apologies. She says it's urgent and it will take a long while, and I can't say no. The aboleths say that there are eleven primordials tied to this world, that the next to arrive will be one once called Stars Falling, and that the Fire Below is under Tian Xia right now stoking a volcano to a disastrous eruption. Good luck.

[The Glyphstone]

Ragnar shrugs, and settles himself on the windowsill. "Because you cannot continue as you are. Something holds you to this world, and when it is resolved you will be able to pass on into the next. Please, tell me why you have begun attacking caravans and convoys, what it is that you are looking for or desire that forces you to persist."

[ylvathrall]

"If you must know," the ghost huffs, "the city I lived in when I was alive was unearthed recently by a sandstorm and an expedition. My chambers have several tomes of arcane lore and secrets unknown to any since the Great War. I can't rest until they are safely disposed of."

[Hjolnai]

Just as Tolben completes his spell, he receives Dharmesh's hired Sending. He responds as the spell permits.

"Understood. Qlippoth incursion in Tianjing, ongoing right now. Will come to you. Cass, Damien with me. Will discuss on arrival."

With a wave, he lets the spell dissipate.

"Looks like there's more than one fire to put out today. We'll see what Dharmesh says, but a battle isn't something we can leave for another hour. Conveniently, he's in the same city as Shovash - we'll get her first, since I have an exact address."

He proceeds to give Shovash's location right down to the street address - perhaps specific enough for the purposes of Greater Teleport.

[ylvathrall]

Right after waking, you get a sending from a member of the tribes still loyal to you, from Belkzen. Stole scroll, important, sorry. Door in Cenotaph opened. No one comes out, including our scouts. Please help.

[Sepulchritude]

This early in the morning, Shovash's location is, in fact, one of the disused temples in the heart of the city. She hadn't exactly requested those quarters, but after she found the fresco of some ancient champion defeating creatures that she quite resembled, no one proved willing to challenge her amusement. The door had been left hanging open, and the scent of either incense or hookah smoke is still wafting out whenever a breeze stirs the air.

Inside, their old partner steps over the the bodies of several sleeping (?) young men, presumably the owners of those suits of lamellar piled against one wall, and picks at a nearly empty basket of local fruits. She'd spent most of the previous day with a group of captains, helping to refine their drills for fighting into phantom enemies. Her expression, at a glance, is troubled.

[ylvathrall]

Once given the destination, Cassie concentrates for a moment. A circular portal appears in both her mansion and Shovash's appropriated temple, and she casually saunters through, as though she hadn't just created the kind of portal that could connect planes with precision that lesser mages only dream of. As though this were a casual effort.

"Hi Shovash!" she says. "How's things?" She sees the sleeping men and giggles. "Aw, you wore them out! Also there's a huge army of qlippoth in Tianjing."

[Sepulchritude]

The smile that creeps into Shovash's face looks distinctly unbidden, as though she'd rather stay pensive but Cassie just has that effect. It's an uncommonly vulnerable expression from her. It doesn't entirely vanish, either, when she looks past the girl at Damien and Tolben following through.

"Oh, they wore each other out. I just... made them do it. You know how it is. So, qlippoth? Maybe we'll be lucky and the volcano will take out more of them than it does mortals." Almost as— No, definitely as an afterthought, she adds, "Hi, everyone. Welcome to Bhali."

[The Glyphstone]

"That can be taken care of easily enough. If I agree to see to your tomes, will you tell me where this city is, what your conditions of safe disposal are, and refrain from terrorizing any further caravans until my return?"

[Hjolnai]

"Hi Shovash."

Tolben idly kicks someone's leg out of his way as he steps into the room.

"Qlippoth and some other fiends - an alliance which makes me mildly curious. More to the point, they're already giving battle. If we want to respond, we need to do it now. Or we can focus on problems closer to hand, and hope the locals can deal with it. I lent them a tsunami, which should help a bit."

[TheOneHawk]

"Too many fires, not enough time. Sounds like old times to me." Damien's grin is wider than usual, though it's hard to say whether that's due to reconnecting with Cassie or the impending wanton destruction, most likely both. "Tell you what, looks to me like the best fun to be had here has already happened," he continues with a glance at Shovash, "But if Dharmesh is worried enough to call in the cavalry it'd be rude to just leave him hanging. Again. We've done that too many times now, I think. Anyways, I've never seen a fiend or qlippoth Cassie and I couldn't handle together, whaddya say the two of us handle whatever mess Tolben uncovered in Tianjing while you guys deal with whatever this mess is?"

[Sepulchritude]

"I was serious about the volcano. Vauma's been playing with Aboleths," replies Shovash in a disgusted tone. "Apparently, the tortoise that obliterated Skelt is somewhere under Tian Xia, working up an eruption. I can't think of any way you'll narrow down its precise location in time, yourselves, but there's a better solution, anyway."

At this, she adopts a cryptic smile to replace the more tired and beleaguered one from a second ago. Glancing back and forth between Tolben and Cassie, she even sways a little in her seat in anticipation of revealing her own cunning. "Get hold of Ymeri, the lord of fire. You won't track down The Fire Below in time, but she and a handful of servant elementals could, no problem. Just don't ask her to prevent the eruption. That would go over terribly—she'd never agree. But convincing her to reroute it toward the heart of the demon incursion? As a proxy snub against Flauros? I don't even think it would be hard." Shovash swivels toward Damien then, narrowly missing a candelabra on the table with one wingtip. She momentarily glances at Tolben when she starts to speak, but then trains that provocative, I have a secret smirk on the other birthright-caster.

"I'm glad you brought both of them, too. You'll probably want to take one to whatever part of the continent you're trying to clean up, and Dharmesh will need the other one, here. He's doing a wonderful job of rallying the defenses, but they're ordinary mortals. They simply don't have the firepower to contend with an army of Rakshasa, no matter how disciplined or loyal they might be. He'll have more details than I can offer, but don't let him convince you he hasn't the need. He asked me to help repel them, of all people." And then, if the absurdity of that weren't already enough—"And I have to return to the Hold. It seems a necromancer has begun meddling with my people while I've been away, and you all know how much I appreciate that." Indeed, after the campaign against the gods had closed, she'd been particularly colorful in what she'd promised to do to even her allies, if they dared.

[Hjolnai]

"Ymeri, eh? That sounds possible."

Tolben pauses.

"Unfortunately I'm running short on divinations - and teleports, at that. I don't suppose anyone picked up a Crystal Ball while I wasn't looking? Oh, and Dharmesh's input would be appreciated - we know he's here somewhere."

[AscendingApe]

Having received word of the other's arrival, Dharmesh will leave the planning rooms for a time to see what Shovash has been getting up to in the old temple.
Upon arrival, he ignores the sleeping men in favor of greeting his friends."Tolben, Damien, Cassie, wonderful to see you all, would that it were under kinder circumstances, Bhali is usually much finer a place to visit than this." He seems somewhat tired, though he bears it as well as can be expected of him. "As Shovash says, there is only so much that can be done with lesser men and women armed with mundane gear and a handful of skilled warriors trained to fight the enemy. With you helping, it will be made easier, relatively speaking. Nothing is ever simple when the Immortals have a claw in things, sadly."

[Hjolnai]

Tolben looks momentarily surprised at the coincidence.

"Ah, Dharmesh. I was just wondering where you were. Unfortunately it won't be that straightforward."

He walks over to put a hand on the psychic's shoulder.

"The Rakshasa aren't the only problem we have to deal with. Fiends invading Tianjing, a volcanic Primordial threat, and of course Shovash's Necromancer problem. And on top of that, we can expect trouble from the gas giants at this rate. That could be a bigger problem than the Primordials, if they're worried about a repeat of the Moon."

[TheOneHawk]

Damien ticks off the problems on his fingers as Tolben lists them off, then looks at the number of people in the room compared to the number of extended fingers and shrugs. "Still less problems than we have people, though who knows what Vauma and Ragnar are doing. Regardless, I haven't killed a Qlippoth in, like, two months. Way too long. I'm going to go deal with whatever's making them invade Tianjing." He turns to Cassie and offers her his hand, continuing, "Would love you have you along, Cass, I'm sure these three are more than capable of dealing with the rest."

[Sepulchritude]

Before Cass could respond, Shovash laughs abruptly, shakes her head, and points at Damien with her tail. Her hands are busy peeling some kind of twisted, green citrus. "I remember when you used to flirt with me that hard. Right up until you got what you thought you wanted." She leers at them both, but doesn't press the point any further than that.

"Divining shouldn't be necessary. I can call one of her mid-level functionaries before I go, if you want to send a message. Or just open a passage to the guest entrance of her palace, if you're in a hurry and don't mind the heat. But decide soon, because I've used almost all the time I can spare. The Cenotaph is open again."

[ylvathrall]

"And have you vanish and never return?" the ghost sniffs. "Hardly. I'll give you a week. And most of them you can just burn, but there's one, leather bound in my desk drawer, that I want you to bring back here. Don't read it. My house was near the edge of the city, on the northeast side, it's a mansion with statues of temple dogs out front. Shouldn't be hard to find."

[Hjolnai]

Tolben sighs.

"I suppose it would be rude to show up unannounced. Just call me a messenger, and I'll open a Gate after making contact. Oh, and if you should capture that necromancer's books..."

He makes a mental note to burn his library of diplomatic texts - not the first time he's had that thought.

[The Glyphstone]

"I won't need a week. I've only got a few days until the next kaiju attack anyways, so I'll be back soon."

Ragnar drifts out of the tower and back down to the ground, re-orienting himself with the sun before setting off towards where he believes the unearthed city is located. He's certain Suiko will tag along, but it's important to maintain the impression he doesn't actually want her there.

[ylvathrall]

"I'm not in the mood to walk," Suiko announces as you start out into the desert. She gestures, and a circular portal appears in the air in front of you. On the other side, a ruined city, half-buried in the sand. "You coming with?" she calls out as she saunters through.

Through the gate, or if you walk or fly, you find the city, ruined, desolate, abandoned. There are some skeletons lying around, but no sign of restless dead - this happened a very, very long time ago. You make your way to the house that the ghost mentioned - it's exactly as easy to find as she implied it would be. Statues of temple dogs stand out front. The door was broken open, recently. You hear movement inside.

Shovash calls in a servant of the elemental lord Ymeri, who transmits Tolben's request for a meeting. It's approved by sending almost immediately.

In the elemental plane of fire, you reach Ymeri's palace. It's an impressive place, walls of solid flame that still moves and ripples. Various beings of flame, elementals and efreeti and salamanders, all move around the palace going about their business. An efreeti guide, a muscular giant with crimson skin and small horns, escorts you through the palace to the throne room.

The throne is made of golden flame, and Ymeri is in it, and she is...there aren't words. A mutable form of liquid fire that shifts and changes every moment, from an unformed blaze to a seductive woman to a phoenix to a wolf, all formed out of multi-hued flames, all inhumanly beautiful.

Be welcome in my home, wizard, a mental voice that sounds like a sultry woman's voice mixed with the crackling of a fire says.

Cass opens another gate, this time going to Tianjing. Once you get there, it looks much like Tolben described - a vast army of mixed fiends, mostly qlippoth, but some demons, and some that you aren't educated enough to recognize.

"Oh, look, it's pretty," Cass says, pointing at a strange deformed creature with butterfly wings and snake fangs. "I guess I should kill it, right?"

[TheOneHawk]

Damien answers Cassie with pale green beam of energy directed at the aforementioned fiend, ripping it out of existence casually. ”Not if I beat you to it,” he says with a smirk. “Tolben said something about a portal, but it’ll probably be easier to deal with that with a few less beasties around. Let’s get to work. Sooner this is dealt with the sooner you can try out that new violin, I think you’ll like it.” With that, he flies off towards the nearest cluster of enemies.

Once out of earshot, he quietly says to Beatrice, “I’ll save you some extra kills if you keep an eye on her, let me know if she’s in danger, ok?” Beatrice does not reply but merely sends Damien a pulse of mild irritation through their empathetic link before taking flight from his shoulder to do as requested.

[Sepulchritude]

"And there you go, Tolben," Shovash declares, the instant confirmation is received. She hadn't even spent the extra time of warding her summoning circle to keep the mephit she called in place, and she was clearly growing agitated throughout the duration of the sending. Why she hadn't left as soon as she'd produced the intermediary was not particularly clear. She does now, however, as soon as she recovers from pulling her gloves on. She bids her companions goodbye, each with a different palm, then pops out of existence with barely a gesture.

It's several minutes later when she finally appears outside the lodge of the Defiled Corpse tribe. Her skin has gone all over the same onyx black that usually marks her extremities, and the tawny pelt she's changed into shows off most of it. The striking exception is the round swell of her belly, encased now in a fitted steel dome inlaid with streaks of some other metal, dark as the sky where the moon used to be. The design resembles a giant carnivore's mouth so much, it's hard to not picture the rest of her anatomy as facial features. She is festooned with totems, charms, and fetishes. This is not the the fierce diplomat who snatched a foreign noble's messenger right out of her palace, or even the decadent warlord of the day before. This is Shovash the witch-queen, and the smoke rising from her burning tattoos smells of brimstone and honey.

"Gazrig! Falx!" She doesn't so much call for the local leadership as she bellows their names. While she awaits a response, she withdraws six feet of staff from eight inches of fabric. The flag of the Godless no longer fills the center of the fork. In its place hangs one of Lastwall's original and most cherished banners, marred on either side by a thick, red spiral.

[The Glyphstone]

Greta in hand, Ragnar carefully steps inside the house, heading for the sounds of movement. He moves cautiously, a footstep at a time and always watching shadows and stray debris. It hearkens back to old memories for him, faded and pale in the distant past when he stalked prey in the forest by wits and skill instead of walking the void between planes. This was still the Mana Wastes, and he would not trust his ghost-walking unless he needed to.


Mundane Stealth check: 45+9=54.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben calls up a Gate, and steps through into the fiery palace. Following his Efreeti guide, he displays very little emotion; while few people can confidently walk into such an oven no matter their magical protections, he has been through much worse.

He marches up to the throne, and though most throne rooms are built to show the supremacy of the ruler, none can say that he looks a mere supplicant.

"Ymeri, Lord of fire. I greet you, and have a proposal to offer."

[ylvathrall]

Cass laughs, and the sound is high and light and terrible. She flies forward, and she looks at a particularly large qlippoth, her head hanging askew, eyes open to show nothing but black pits that suck in the light and let nothing out. She doesn't say a word, but the qlippoth...dies. It falls to the ground, bleeding from the eyes, and it thrashes, and it dies. Cass looks another direction, and a wave of necromantic energy pulses out from her, rippling forward. Demons and qlippoth drop to the ground without even having time to scream. But they scream anyway, their souls visible as a wave of screaming faces in the wake of the spell. She blinks, and her head rolls to the other side, and suddenly she is five hundred feet above the battlefield. She spreads her arms, framed against the dark night sky, and spins, and continues to laugh and laugh and laugh.

Beatrice is pleased.

The shaman and the chieftain both scramble to answer your bellow. The chieftain is a big man, layered with muscle, scarred from dozens of battles. He has an axe on his belt, black iron against grey skin, and he wears simple armor of hides and a little magic. The shaman is shorter, his skin tattooed and with piercings and totems in abundance, carrying a staff. The chief looks at you with an expression of bravado, while the shaman, perhaps more aware of what he's dealing with, is clearly nervous.

"Thought you left," Gazrig says in Orcish, hand resting inches from his axe. "Why'd you come back?"

A tension in the air, so subtle you didn't even notice it before, suddenly fades. And greetings to you, scholar that mental voice says, with overtones of welcome/pleasure/acceptance. Ymeri shifts into a tall woman woven of divine fire, and smiles, before melting back into the blaze. Lady Shovash said that you have a plan that could vex my...unwanted admirer, the pitiful demon Flauros. I am curious what it is.

You move in, and nothing sees you, not even the sun above. You hear the noise above get louder, then suddenly there's an enormous crash. A gleaming silvery fist suddenly crashes through the floor, driving a human body through it entirely.

That's definitely mithral.

[Sepulchritude]

The shaman and the chieftain both scramble to answer your bellow. The chieftain is a big man, layered with muscle, scarred from dozens of battles. He has an axe on his belt, black iron against grey skin, and he wears simple armor of hides and a little magic. The shaman is shorter, his skin tattooed and with piercings and totems in abundance, carrying a staff. The chief looks at you with an expression of bravado, while the shaman, perhaps more aware of what he's dealing with, is clearly nervous.

"Thought you left," Gazrig says in Orcish, hand resting inches from his axe. "Why'd you come back?"

Shovash registers her disdain for the question with a sharp exhalation through her nose. "I always come back. You are mine, and no one takes my children away." She is mostly speaking figuratively. Even the first child she placed with the Defiled Corpse tribe is barely old enough to train for war, albeit a thickly-furred brute of a boy who even at eight already shows signs of the bloodrage. Of course, figurative only makes it a more imperious claim.

"If you're going to try your luck, Gazrig, get your balls together and take a swing already. I'm not here to make a fool of you, but I don't have the patience to wait for you to do it yourself." Shovash strikes the ground with the butt of her staff once, hard, and stares him down. Her eyes are full of aggression and warning but not the kind of debasing scorn that usually keeps weaker orcs in their place. One thing about the Witch: she had never quite been a bully. "I know about the Cenotaph. And I'm not upset. This was the plan from the day we sacked Vigil. The humans were keeping the Tyrant busy, and now they are gone. There will be no more wasted scouts. I'm going in myself, and I'm inviting your best warriors to follow me. "

[Hjolnai]

"Flauros styles himself Lord of Volcanoes. I think he needs his toys taken away like the spoiled child he is. I'm sure you're aware that there's a Primordial stirring up an eruption in Tian Xia. I propose that we snatch it before he can, and use it against his own kin. Certainly he cares not for their fate, but if the Abyssal rift drops its travelers into the heart of a volcano, he'll have a hard time bringing more into Golarion."

Tolben gives every impression of looking Ymeri in the eyes which the flames do not, in fact, exhibit.

"That world is small, but the blow to his pride and prestige will be much more substantial - if we can pull it off. And then I can study the rift in peace; not even qlippoth are mad enough to step through to their deaths."

[AscendingApe]

When the others leave, Dharmesh takes a few moments to compose himself before sighing. "A few irons in the fire I see. In that case, time to get back to work." He exits the temple, making a note to clean it up when Shovash is done with it.

He informs the others with whom he is coordinating the defense of the city that he has business to attend to elsewhere, and will be busy with it for most of the day. With that done, he snaps off a quick incantation before vanishing with a crack, reappearing in Elemental Earth. Powdered rubies, that was the first piece of using this scroll...

Burning one MP to get to Elemental Earth and looking for a merchant in possession of 10,000 gp of powdered rubies for a simulacrum, at which point burning another MP to get back to Bhali, then twelve hours to cast it. Unless interrupted, he will do this, then instruct the simulacrum to conduct research on the Primordials for him.

[TheOneHawk]

Satisfied that Cassie is handling things just fine, Damien flies off towards another cluster of enemy combatants, this one in the midst of a charge towards the defenders attempting to hold the line. He waits a moment, letting them almost reach their targets before unleashing a storm of fire and fury and death upon them, leaving naught but a crater and corpses behind. He makes a quick flyby of the defenders, exulting in the cheer that rises from their ranks, before moving on and continuing his rampage, using a variety of walls, explosions and deathtraps to eliminate swaths of enemies in the most entertaining ways he can think of at that moment.

[The Glyphstone]

Greta is mindful of their intended silence, but her telepathic shout is almost deafening in Ragnar's head. [i]Something to shoot after all! Hooray!

Ragnar nods wordlessly, reaching down inside himself to channel the stinging pain of otherworldly thorns and straddling the planar fringe. Reaching into his quiver to pull his adamantine-tipped bolts in easy reach, he moves cautiously out towards the source of the massive silver fist. He might be here to retrieve some unfathomably overdue library books, but a giant marauding golem would be a notable impediment towards that.


Invisible Blade active, Run to where he has a clear view/shot at the golem.

[ylvathrall]

The chieftain quails under your gaze. "Just asking," he mutters. "Look, you want in there, it's all yours. I'll put the word out you're back, see if anyone wants to follow you. But I ain't going. That place is bad magic."

Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself standing at the Cenotaph, the monumentally high pillar of stone standing in front of you - fully three hundred feet tall, all constructed of black stone, looming at the other end of a narrow bridge with no rails. The fall is...not something that bears contemplation. Metal doors, fifty feet tall, stand at the end of the bridge. They stand open. Another pair of metal doors, still closed, stands halfway up the structure, with no stairs of any kind leading up to them.

Eleven warriors end up gathering to back you, eight men and three women, all hard-bitten veterans. You recognize five from the last time you were here, and those five clearly recognize you, looking at you with proud, fierce expressions. The other six are a bit more hesitant, but still seem willing to follow you into the Cenotaph.

The Primordial? Yes, we're acquainted. The Fire Below is rather polite once you get to know it, as long as you aren't a mortal. I suppose I could convince it to direct the eruption at the rift, yes. It shouldn't be hard, really, it owes me a favor, and this does seem like an excellent gesture...yes, I like this plan. Ymeri stands, and the action of standing takes her to your side, seemingly without crossing the distance in between. A tendril of fire extends outward, and even through the protective spells, the touch of that demi-divine fire burns.

Excellent work coming up with this scheme. The mental voice is definitely sultry now.

The rubies are soon obtained, and the scroll cast. Well. The scroll is soon started, but the actual casting is a process, involving no small amount of work, and a small dish of rice noodles.

But soon, the simulacrum stands before you, ready to command.

None stand against you, or stand before you and hope to live. You kill and kill and kill, and Cass laughs as fiends drop dead everywhere she looks, and nothing can touch the two of you. Until finally, the last of the fiends are dead or fled, and Cass teleports back down to stand beside you. Her eyes are still hollow, sucking black pits, and her head lolls to the side like a hanged woman's.

It takes a solid ten seconds for her to snap out of it. She blinks and staggers before catching herself. "Oh," she says, looking at the destruction the two of you wrought. "They're all broken."

You dash forward, and up the stairs, where you hear another loud crash. A statue of mithral, liquid and flowing and solid all at once, is standing against three looters, and it's not even close to a fair fight. They can't touch it, and clearly can't hope to long avoid it, either.

You're up on initiative.

[Sepulchritude]

The chieftain quails under your gaze. "Just asking," he mutters. "Look, you want in there, it's all yours. I'll put the word out you're back, see if anyone wants to follow you. But I ain't going. That place is bad magic."

Fifteen minutes later, you find yourself standing at the Cenotaph, the monumentally high pillar of stone standing in front of you - fully three hundred feet tall, all constructed of black stone, looming at the other end of a narrow bridge with no rails. The fall is...not something that bears contemplation. Metal doors, fifty feet tall, stand at the end of the bridge. They stand open. Another pair of metal doors, still closed, stands halfway up the structure, with no stairs of any kind leading up to them.

Eleven warriors end up gathering to back you, eight men and three women, all hard-bitten veterans. You recognize five from the last time you were here, and those five clearly recognize you, looking at you with proud, fierce expressions. The other six are a bit more hesitant, but still seem willing to follow you into the Cenotaph.

Shovash takes a bit of time to consider her entourage before going anywhere. There's no disguising the pride in her eyes when that consideration falls on the women among them, and she doesn't attempt to, but she doesn't linger on it, either. If anything, some of the men get more overall attention—much more dedicated examinations. She runs her tongue over the tip of that ioun sunk into her jaw. It's black, too—her tongue, not the stone—and much more pointed than it has any business being. That expression is probably a grin.

"Some of you have never fought with me. That's good. We get nowhere without new pupils." Shovash's own pupils widen, from lateral slits tight against the sun to fat spindles, predatory without matching any natural animal's. She doesn't specify who "we" refers to, but her simmering rebellion is hardly a secret. "The first thing I want you to understand is that I don't waste good warriors. I want you killing, not throwing your lives away to prove how brave you are. If I had any doubts about your bravery, you'd have been hurled off the bridge already for wasting my time. If it didn't take bravery to be here... Well, I had hoped for a few more of you to have enough, and that's all I'll say about the rest of your tribe."

Something gathers around her left hand as she continues. The memory of darkness with no actual shadow, a certainty of sound, but nothing the ears can find. It is elementally unsettling. "So, to keep you proud few free to feed your axes, I'll be bringing some pets along to do the dying instead." Her smile grows even broader, eyes more excited, as she unclenches that fist. Something falls to the ground. One at a time, four... well, four stagger out from behind her wings, where they could not possibly have been waiting all this time. Each of the mangled humanoid figures appears to be constructed from sectioned and preserved orc parts, badly reassembled on frames of sawblades and sewn together roughly with chains. A howling noise drifts from each stitched mouth, echoing like dozens of voices and inexplicably faint. There are no eyes on any of them, but they manage to gaze at their summoner regardless. She regards them coolly in return, looking almost bored by the menagerie.

"I'm not telling you to hold back, though, if it comes to battle. But I want you to win. Honor and pride mean nothing to the dead. Do they, pets?" For a brief moment, she seems to forget the living orcs are there, as she pinches the only cheek one sacristan has to pinch. "Don't worry about what happens to them, of course. They enjoy the pain. Let them have it. And then give it to everyone in your way. Come on!" She tosses around more magic as she leads them over the bridge, her handful of broken dolls falling into position at the corners of the peloton of warriors. It's hard to miss the loose caging effect.

Mythic Power for Mass Bull's Strength. Moment of Greatness, since all "orc allies loyal to the clan whose emblem is represented" are rocking a lot of +3s to begin with. And while we're at it, Aroden's Magic Army. +9 hit and damage is pretty okay at their level, right? Right. And since the aura from angelic aspect would actually interfere with her control of her own people, spending MP for Frightful Aspect to become 12' tall and terrifyingly demonic.
Sure, it won't matter against the undead. But it's good for morale.

[Hjolnai]

Though the palace is filled with bright flames and choking smoke, for just an instant its denizens can imagine themselves cold and alone, trapped in a vast sea of darkness with only the stars for company.

Then Tolben masters himself. Though it was but a brief glimpse, he seems much heartened by the otherwise terrifying experience.

"A candle holds back the night, but not for very long. Great though your charms are, I would be a poor guest indeed to have my host risk the stars' fate."

He gently pushes aside the grasping tendril, neither able to grip nor be gripped due to their protective magics. To the searing pain in his hand, Tolben pays no notice. He waits for her to speak next.

[ylvathrall]

The walk across the bridge would be a harrowing one, to a normal mortal. The path, narrow and slick; the consequene of a slip, disastrous. And one of the orcs, one of the two you get the sense is plotting against you, finds that out the hard way. His foot lands wrong and he staggers and he falls. You watch it happen, see the fear in his eyes, the sickening moment of realization that he is too far overbalanced to recover. You watch him fall sideways off the bridge, watch the certainty of death settle into his features.

And then, like a guardian angel, you catch him, snatch him from death's jaws and return him to the bridge. He doesn't say anything, just grunts, but there's a...thoughtfulness there, dull gears grinding in his brain.

Across the bridge, there's a feeling in the air, a sense of...wrongness. Something strange, something foul, it hangs in the air like a smoke. The orcs behind you almost universally shudder, make warding gestures, and mutter invocations and luck charms. The only exception, strangely enough, is the one who fell - his features remain stoically set, axe drawn.

The feeling gets stronger as you walk into the Cenotaph. There's a strong feeling of unease, a feeling that something very, very bad has happened or will happen or will always be happening here. It smells of death, tastes of darkness rolling smooth and sharp across your tongue - you can feel the necromancy in the air, the negative energy pouring through the structure. The interior is a single, cavernous chamber, the ceiling arching hundreds of feet overhead. The construction is simple, brutal, almost crude - all straight lines and sharp angles, harsh and unyielding. The room echoes strangely as you walk in.

There are two signs of anything different. The first is a staircase, large enough for your entire party to walk abreast, leading down into the darkness. The second is a globe of silvery metal, high overhead, connected to the walls by arches of metal, with a closed walkway to the exterior. It looks to be at the height of the second, closed door from the outside.

The fire elemental smiles and withdraws. Your concern is noted. The eruption will happen within two days - I trust it will satisfy. The Fire Beneath is quite thorough in its work.

[Hjolnai]

"Ah, excellent. I will eagerly look forward to hearing of Flauros' humiliation - as I am sure you shall. But for now..."

Tolben bows deeply.

"If my most gracious host will permit, I should return to my work."

[The Glyphstone]

"Easier to interrogate thieves than try to question corpses, I suppose."

With Greta bouncing in his hands enough to make aiming moderately difficult, Ragnar pulls a handful of blunt-tipped adamantine bolts and fires a flurry into into the golem, aiming for the center of its shifting mass. No need to be fancy against something this simple to destroy, when he has a more important mission to accomplish.

[TheOneHawk]

Damien patiently waits for Cass to snap out of her episode, dispassionately watching as Beatrice pecks out and eats the numerous eyes of a strange, spidery beast he had disabled but not killed for her. Once Cass comes to, he smiles at her and replies, "Sure are, though there's a lot more of them than just this particular group. We're gonna have to find where they're coming from if we want to stop this, you still good to keep going?"

[Sepulchritude]

The feeling gets stronger as you walk into the Cenotaph. There's a strong feeling of unease, a feeling that something very, very bad has happened or will happen or will always be happening here. It smells of death, tastes of darkness rolling smooth and sharp across your tongue - you can feel the necromancy in the air, the negative energy pouring through the structure. The interior is a single, cavernous chamber, the ceiling arching hundreds of feet overhead. The construction is simple, brutal, almost crude - all straight lines and sharp angles, harsh and unyielding. The room echoes strangely as you walk in.

There are two signs of anything different. The first is a staircase, large enough for your entire party to walk abreast, leading down into the darkness. The second is a globe of silvery metal, high overhead, connected to the walls by arches of metal, with a closed walkway to the exterior. It looks to be at the height of the second, closed door from the outside.

Even their fearsome leader seems to find the environs daunting. After all, she isn't that kind of demon. It isn't much, just a general contracting as she enters the monument. Ears a little flatter, back a little less straight, wings closer and forward, covering her flanks. But she is still mortal, it turns out.

On the other hand, she hadn't held back from grasping the fire once in all the stories about her, and she is apparently not about to start now. "You two! Hold the door behind us! You, watch the stairs!" The words are the staccato, iterating rhythms of Infernal, but a faint tongue of flames dances above her head, and she's understood regardless. The summoned abominations she points at stumble into position on legs that do not have a uniform number of joints. "If strangers approach, scream."

Shovash flashes a wicked smile out of proportion to the directive, then turns slowly, head tilted back to look at the orb overhead. "That wasn't in Lastwall's records of this place," she mutters, clearly not happy about it. "Give me a minute to investigate, then we'll head into the tunnels. Better place for us, anyway." And she leaps into the air, a massive downdraft behind her. Up and up she flies, until she reaches the catwalk and siezes the underside to crawl, upside-down, toward the installation. The resemblance to a climbing bat is strong.

[ylvathrall]

Don't let me keep you from your work, O Sage, Ymeri's voice purrs into your mind. The efreeti guide reappears, and gestures for you to follow back out of the palace before you transition out of the plane.

Bolt after bolt slams home into the core of the shifting, flowing golem. It staggers back, like mercury sliding across the ground, and then dissolves into a pool of silvery metal.

The looters look at you, or try to, and quail. One tosses her weapons aside, the other is more hesitant.

"Yeah!" Cassie says, sounding...gods have mercy, she sounds excited. She floats up again, looking around, then returns to the ground. "I think they're marching from up in the mountains," she says. "Extrapolating from their current troop dispositions."

The summoned monstrosities nod and go to their posts. The orcs...are all but quivering, mostly, with fear and nausea. You fly up and look at the sphere.

It stinks of negative energy, absolutely stinks of it, far more than any mere undead. This is a portal to the Negative Energy Plane itself, a rent in the world on par with the Worldwound, but contained. It doesn't touch on a borderline part of the plane, either - this hole pierces straight to the core of the Negative, a deep, dark place of the world of nothing. The sphere does more than merely cage it, though. It's an incredibly elaborate structure, channeling the power leaking through from the Negative into the walls of the Cenotaph, where it flows down through them, through channels built into the monumental building.

So much negative energy flowing through this place, no wonder it feels sickening to be around. This is a place for the dead, not for the living. The flood of negative power in here will make any undead feel at home, give it more power, rejuvenate it. Even so long after the Tyrant marched his armies in here, you'd be very surprised if they have weakened or faltered. In fact, odds are good they've gotten stronger. Much stronger.

[Sepulchritude]

After maybe twenty seconds of clambering over the surface of the enormous artifact, Shovash releases her grip and dives back to the ground. The backflip-to-wingstall landing isn't any more considerate than her takeoff had been.

"Nothing unexpected," she announces, and waves for the door guards to follow her toward the stairs. The orcs don't need the encouragement to stay close, really. "Just don't pick fights we don't need to have. I want to find who is in charge and what happened to the scouts. We might find an ally here, if we don't make an enemy of him." She starts down, with that, taking the stairs two at a time by necessity. If she still feels as threatened as she did a minute ago, her bravadura makes no concessions to it.

[Hjolnai]

Tolben bows, and then follows the Efreeti out. Calling upon his knowledge of the Primordials, he opens his second Gate of the day. He emerges in the exact place from which he unleashed a Tsunami earlier; the Gate remains open for a moment in case he needs to retreat.

[ylvathrall]

You descend into the lightless tunnels, built on the scale of giants - you are right at home among the towering ceilings. The construction is more ornate than above, with statues of figures unrecognizable with the long time that has passed, living or undead. There are undead, mindless things that throw themselves at you with fervent a need to kill or be killed. You leave them as dust in your wake, and descend further, long, sloping tunnels and steep staircases.

You are five levels down when you encounter the first intelligent undead. It is a tall, skeletal figure, wearing an ancient violet robe. Its eyes have the same deep purple light in them, and it wears several pieces of jewelry that blaze with magical energy.

"You are not like the last to make it to these halls," it says upon seeing you, its voice deep and hollow. "You burn with the light of other worlds. I am...intrigued."

With Cass's help, you wipe out several more groups of fiends as you make your way up into the mountains. Finally, you reach the portal - and it is impressive. A gaping rift in the world, a hundred feet tall or more, the edges wavering inconstantly. It blazes with light, dull crimson and sick yellow in color, bright enough to light the night for a hundred yards in all directions. On the other side, you see a deep darkness, with occasional flashes of light in colors that have no name. The air smells of rot and sulfur. Fiends, lots of them, march through the portal, a near-constant stream.

"Um," Cass says. "I would...like to rest a bit before we take that on."

[Hjolnai]

Tolben takes the form of a huge red dragon, and follows the trail of burnt and broken fiends until he meets up with Damien and Cass - shortly before reaching the portal.

He uses his fiery breath, and on occasion teeth and claws, to help clearing the path; no need to use more of his limited magic. Then the portal comes into view.


"Um," Cass says. "I would...like to rest a bit before we take that on."

"Well, this is more active than I expected. Still, if Ymeri is as good as her word, it won't be a problem for much longer. The volcanic eruption is expected within two days. That should limit the threat."

[TheOneHawk]

Damien, visibly sweating from exertion but also somehow looking more energetic and hyper than usual, replies, "So what then, just contain them until the ground explodes? That doesn't sound like a great deal of fun, but I am getting a bit drained myself. Rest would be useful, I guess." He sounds decided disappointed by the prospect.

[ylvathrall]

Cass smiles and bounces happily, but it seems hollow, the act of someone who's faking happiness but no longer understands what it means. There's a darkness in her eyes that wasn't there before. She doesn't sleep, just sits against a tree and plays cat's cradle long into the night.

The next day, you wake up a while past dawn. At much the same time, Tolben gets a sending: Kasai leveled by volcano. Fire elementals rampaging through city.