Planar Odyssey [IC]

[Stelio Kontos]

"While it is true that this would greatly disrupt their 'sandbox', as you so eloquently put it... I would remind you that there are a great many grains of sand -- ourselves among them -- for whom the sandbox, such as it may be, is vastly preferable to the unending void of oblivion. And that, Atticus, is the potentiality with which we find ourselves presented. So I would caution you to temper your disdain for your present plight."

[CasualViking]

Aron "So, we have been made weapons against our will, just another handful of arrows among the barrage fired by an unseen attacker. Maybe the distinction between being born as a weapon and being made one in one's teen years is important,but maybe it isn't". "Either way, and pardon me for overloading the metaphor... we need to avoid striking the intended target, avoid spending ourselves against the shields, find the bowman and.... probably kill them".

[Darvin]

"By my understanding, then, there are a nearly innumberable quantity of these ... for lack of a more elegant term, corrupted quintessences? I suppose that would rather reduce the coincidental meeting of our current grouping. Still, this brings to mind a number of quite disturbing eventualities."

"In some respects, this quintessence is purer than anything else in the multiverse, untouched by the will of any god," Ursiyam posits.

"I do not suppose there is a way for our hosts to deliver in some way a message to one or more of these Custodians, that we are aware of the problem they seek to resolve, and intend to rectify it to the best of our abilities? If perhaps, they knew that, it might buy us a measure of time. Especially given that it appears they would have, for lack of a better word, ample targets for their actions. It rather sounds like they need our help, which I am quite willing to offer so long as we are not simultaneously required to preserve our very existence against their acts."

Both Ursiyam and Olhondias immediately grimace at the suggestion, but Severed Root looks contemplative.

"That would be unwise," Ursiyam remarks, "if you had a solution at hand that would be one thing, but as it stands right now the Custodians would dismiss any such message, and perhaps would even seek to take advantage of this to entrap you,"

Olhondias nods, "Some of the greatest injustices ever committed were at the hands of overzealous angels who believed what they were doing was right. Open-mindedness is a very rare trait among outsiders, and your pleas will fall upon deaf ears,"

"Hmm, not so hasty," Severed Root wags their finger, "an organization is a monolith, yes, but the individuals that comprise it are not. Perhaps there are those in the Custodian order who might be sympathetic enough to provide a reprieve,"

"It would still be an enormous risk, and without a specific individual to reach out to it would be unlikely to bear fruit," Olhondias keeps his arms crossed, then relaxes slightly and his voice takes on the tone of patient tutor, "If you are headed to Heaven’s Shore, heed well this advice. That place serves as an exchange and interchange between heaven and the rest of the multiverse. Most of the beings who walk those streets are orderly sorts who wish you no harm, but the residents are aware that the gates are open to potentially unscrupulous individuals. They are both quick to trust, and quick to suspicion. You would do well to have a cover story for your visit,"

"Take advantage of the fact that the Custodians are a secret organization. The administration of Heaven’s Shore likely knows little to nothing about them and has few interactions with their members," Ursiyam nods.

[ThatDamnPaladin]

Roderick smiled quite broadly at the fact Viri was now alive; but a little sad to see her going. He understood why, but he did give the woman as big a smile as he could, "I'm glad you're back among the living- And ah, no matter what the necklace was for? You were a big help and at least someone with more common sense than I had... even if I ignored it."

And for the first time people may actually see Roderick give deference to someone who wasn't his physical superior, "Thank you, without your help the Trial of the GIgas would have been for nothing and I'd have likely died."

That being said he knew Viri likely wouldn't want to stick around and well- he turned back to the two 'Maybe Gods' and gave them a stern look, "Thank you."

He then breathed out through his nose, "Going to a den of pretty snakes is still going to a den of pretty snakes. Are we sure that we don't want to follow up with the woman who has assisted us in our entire little quest? Or... you know, a miriad other things instead of heading to a place where quite obviously we're going to attract attention if they can see alignment?" He deadpans a moment, "I am quite literally a worshipper of the God of Bloodlust and Battle; I will be denied entry into this place at the very least- at the most smote where I stand... Is this like..."

Roderick gesticulates, "You not wanting me along or something? Because I have a feeling that this is the reason." IT wasn't that he was paranoid, it was the fact that he'd not had reason to not suspect he wasn't precisely welcome.

Probably due to the entire curse thing but also y'know he's a gruff and tumble sort of guy.

[Stelio Kontos]

"Roderick..." Sefariel replied with total equanimity, "I assure you that your presence is not only not unwanted, it is a matter I would consider wholly essential. We each of us have our own individual strengths and weaknesses; it is these differences that are perhaps key to understanding as much as our commonalities. If we have done anything to bring forth such thoughts, I ask that you please disabuse yourself of the very notion."

"As for your other concerns: they do contain a quantity of merit. But I believe that if you are willing to, and forgive me for the ineloquence, behave yourself, you will find yourself welcome in Heaven's Shore. As Olhondias has noted, the residents there are used to the comings and goings of those not entirely aligned with the plane itself, and of those who worship many other gods. I presume the terms of your worship do not require starting a bloodbath? As for the detection of one's inner tendencies: I would suspect that for the vast majority of residents, you should be as concerned of their abilities in such matters as you are from my dear Sophia, who has similar talents in this area. You shall simply have to prove yourself trustworthy through your actions.

However, your suggestion may be correct. I would not object to a brief attempt to reconnect with Captain Tanner, if you prefer it."

[CasualViking]

Aron Aron's mouth twitches at the corners, and settles into a smile that... while it does reach the eyes, doesn't seem quite friendly either. He turns to Roderick. "Well. If you believe that you can't" - his smile widens - "join us on a trip to Heaven's Shore, I won't insist on that plan".

[ThatDamnPaladin]

Roderick looks rather stricken honestly... but he does give a bit of a watery grin, "That's... thanks..." He looks really about to cry. Was... was this the first time he'd had more than one person want him around in a party? Looks like it.

"Listen, the... reason I say we need to follow up on the captain is it's just a good idea to go for the ducks closest to shore. Then, ah..." He winces, "Maybe we go to Heaven's Shore? I'd be good with that but honestly uh..." He chuckles, "I'm chuffed you both are cool with that..."

[Darvin]

"If you have no further business with them, Ursiyam, I would ask that you dismiss them. I would like to have further words with you, without prying ears," the Shieldwarden declares ominously.

Ursiyam's eyes flutter for a moment, then she addresses you, "I have instructed my disciples to provide you transit back to your lodgings. We shall speak again, but not soon," The three figures remain silent as your group departs, only resuming their conversation once you are well out of earshot. True to her word, you find four winged outsiders in golden robes waiting for you, having already received their instruction to provide you transport to Just the Right Kick. They carry you swiftly across the islands, and drop you back where you day began.

As you re-enter the inn, a warm aroma fills your nostrils and the alluring sound of exotic music caresses your ears. Ranadibre herself is performing with a group of eclectic planar travelers. Even though you feel like you're lost in the crowd of onlookers, you still find plates of delectable candied fruits and cured meats is pushed into your hands by the establishment's rather stealthy wait staff. Pushing through the crowd, you find an unoccupied table at which to sit. To your left is a table of tieflings deep in drink, and to your right is a table occupied by strange figures dressed in robes that cover their entire bodies and masks that hide their faces. A full meal is promptly brought to your table, and your waiter assures you that Tanner is expected back within the hour.

True enough, Tanner drags herself in through the door before long, a bedraggled look on her face. She spies you and quickly moves to your table before slumping down next to Sefariel, "I was going to say that I hope your day didn't go as badly as mine, but I already heard about what happened in the Shatterglade. The rumor is burning through Basrakal like wildfire. Here's hoping you were able to get the information you needed,"

The group relays to Tanner their intention to go to Heaven's Shore, and that Aster was investigation something related to your situation. She grimaces, "Heaven's Shore has pretty tight security, and you guys have had trouble with Archons as it stands. Still, if Ursiyam is far wiser than me so she must have some idea about this. But Aster? I wish I could help you. I've been worried about him for some time, and if he needs help and I had a way to find him... I'd do it in a heartbeat. If you find any lead on his whereabouts, you tell me and I'll help you find him,"

After a moment of thinking, Tanner continues, "Aster had some friends in Heaven's Shore who are good people, the kind to help you out of trouble. Not sure how much a 'friend of a friend' goes with them, but Lelian Gef is a speaker and advocate for mortals residing in Heaven's Shore. That means she's busy, but if you do meet her... tell her that Alica says hi,"

Spoiler: OOC

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As Sefariel can now cast Plane Shift, the party will presumably rest until he has recovered spell slots. You have the rest of the day and can do some shopping or downtime activities. It's up to you if you want to reveal more information to Tanner. Otherwise, next update will be our arrival at Heaven's Shore.

[Darvin]

The journey to Heaven’s Shore does not happen immediately, as the group needed time to rest and prepare for their coming trials. The aasimar Sefariel spent his time in deep study, carefully tracing out the contours of the planar folds both in diagrams upon paper and in his mind’s eye. Exhaustion from his long studies takes its toll and his eyes lose focus and blur, nearly losing himself to sleep overdue. In that moment, a spark of inspiration hits him and as he jolts to awakeness he begins furiously inscribing diagrams in his spellbooks. Had anyone asked him how he achieved this he would have been unable to tell them, but the inscriptions now in his spellbook were uniquely his own. Something new, something glorious, a new version of a spell that the cosmos had never seen before. Sefariel could now breach the boundaries between the planes, and the group would have free reign to travel to anywhere they had a key.

The following morning they gathered together in the atrium of “Just the Right Kick”. Musicians played in the background and servers frantically moved throughout to deliver fine food. Tanner was nowhere to be seen today, but Ranadibre came to pass on the tiefling pilot’s best wishes. No new missives had come from the three guardians of Basrakal, and all that was left was the jump into the unknown. For all the many hours spent developing the spell, the act of plane shifting was nearly instant. The tuning fork aligned with the heavens seemed to hum in Sefariel’s hands, as the plane itself eager called its lost son home. The floor snapped away from beneath the feet of the party as they hurtled across the cosmos in a matter of seconds, new ground shifting beneath them before they could even begin to fall.

Towers of pearly alabaster ascended around them, formed of gentle curves and elegant lines in immaculate architecture. The higher stories are shrouded by wispy clouds, yet not a single shadow permeates this place as it is illuminated by a warm and inviting summer sun. Terraced gardens weave between the buildings in orderly and regular patterns. The city is bustling with both mortal and celestial beings, and within your sight alone you see hundreds or perhaps thousands. Yet despite how many people move about every street and plaza seems spacious and inviting, as if the plane itself abhors overcrowding and twists itself to avoid such things.

The euphoria of first arrival is broken after a slight pause by a choral angel who approaches you. His glowing eyes pass over each of you, clearly scanning your alignments, before a smile creeps onto his face and he addresses Sefariel, “welcome, scion of heaven, to the plane of your birthright. I can see the writ of your soul, that you have honored your celestial heritage and in turn we honor you,” the angel gives a courteous bow, “should you require any assistance, simply return to the Governance and any available angel or archon will be happy to help you. Though the ongoing conferences keep many of us busy, we will strive to do well by our honored guests,”

The obvious question is quickly answered, “Heaven’s Shore is commonly used as a neutral ground for meetings of the representatives of deities who might not otherwise trust each other. It is not unusual for other delegations to arrive when they hear of an ongoing conference, and the scope of such events can grow from minor arbitrations into larger treaty discussions. The multiverse is huge, and the affairs of the gods extend far further than even a learned mortal scholar might realize. Their servants and holdings are beyond number, and always coming into conflict. Under our roof, peaceful resolutions are made that prevent such minor disputes from instigating interplanar war,” but the angel’s eyes narrow and his mouth turns to a frown as his head twists.

There is a procession of archons who have formed a circle around an open space. They are awaiting something, patiently and silently but at full attention. After a moment of silence there are flashes of dim orange flame. One by one the horned visages of devils materialize. The last to appear is clad within a flowing black robe, hunched over with the only feature visible being a scaly tail with a vicious thagomizer at the end. It takes a moment, but the recollection comes back. You briefly saw this outsider in Yulgamot during the chaos as the Custodians raided the plane in search of you. The cloaked figure taps his walking stick on the ground in front of the archon captain. The captain salutes the devil with a polite but firm demeanor, before the troop begins to escort the procession of devils towards the Hall of Others.

The angel turns his head away, and his smile resumes. He proceeds to gesture in each direction and explains what lies in each direction. You stand in the Governance, the administrative heart of Heaven’s Shore, and the Hall of Others looms overhead as a shadowless monument visible across the entire city. The main streets extend outwards like orderly spokes, while the side streets spiral into their own distinct neighborhoods. To the north are the Spirecourts are the great temples to deities of law and good, to the south the shining markets where all manner of goods can be found, to the west the Academy of the Sixth Wing where crusaders seeking justice train, and to the east the Garden of Laughter where travelers can come to congregate, relax, and learn.

Ursiyam had provided you instructions on how to find the stronghold of the Custodians, nestled in a quiet side-street between the Spirecourt and Academy. Your presence here in Heaven’s Shore is not yet known to the Custodians, so you have time to explore the city at your leisure and subtly scout out your target as part of your exploration of the city if you desire.

[CasualViking]

Aron Aron breathes the clean air, and twirls slowly, taking in the sights. His armor gleams brightly in the clean sunlight, specially polished for the occasion. "Alright. Let's look for accomodations. And lunch. Let's take a stroll, down the side streets".

[Stelio Kontos]

Upon arrival to Heaven's Shore, Sefariel released his avatar, the small harbinger archon remaining by his side but seemingly very much at home on this plane.

The wizard's skin practically dazzled with light; he was clearly pleased with their destination. He bowed his head to the angel which greeted him. "Your honor is gratefully received, and returned in kind" he replied to the creature in the celestial tongue. "We shall endeavor to emulate those who call this place home. Should our presence ever prove less than wholly welcome, please so advise us. You should be aware that there are those who believe we may be a danger by our very existence, though we do not wish it so."

"By chance do you know where we might find Lelian Gef? A friend of ours recommended that we visit her, that she might be able to provide some assistance."

Waiting patiently for an answer, and thanking the archon regardless of the reply, he nodded after Aron. "Yes, I imagine you all must require sustenance. Let us find a quiet place to dine. I do not wish to offend by speaking that which you already know, but I ask that you please refrain from violence, even if you believe you have been provoked. As we have been informed, this is a place of peaceful resolutions."

[Darvin]

The angel looks at Sefariel with a somber look as he speaks of being hunted, "ah, so you have come to Heaven's Shore in search of protection. Fear not, your enemies cannot reach you here and only a great fool would violate the sanctity of this place. If they wish to touch you here they will need to stand before the tribunals in the Hall of Others and prove your criminal nature,"

"Lilian is an elected representative of the mortal residents of Heaven's Shore. She can often be found in the Hall of Others performing her administrative and leadership duties," it would seem if you wish to meet with Lilian, you will not need to go far.

Walking down the east artery, the party quickly comes to the garden of laughter. A sprawling urban park with copses of trees, placid ponds, winding pathways, and tables and benches. Mortal food vendors line the periphery. A panoply of culinary traditions are available, a variety matched only by Ranadibre's kitchen. Each vendor proudly displays their plane of origin and the kinds of foods they sell. The prices here are heavily inflated, but everything is of exceptional quality.

Walking through the park with their choice of food, the party sees countless groups where mortals and angels converse. Occasionally there are other outsiders here; an Axiomite is furiously sketching in a notepad while sitting next to a fountain, and a pair of fox-headed agathions heartily laugh as they speak to a hound-headed archon. A troupe of azatas is performing on a nearby stage, with mesmerizing song and dance. A tiefling sticks out like a sore thumb in this angelic place, but he sits quietly in the audience enraptured by the performance. Sitting on a bench is a human man who is dressed in finery befitting royalty. He looks somberly at a pond in front of him while a lion-headed agathion sits next to him with a stoic demeanor.

A particular conversation does catch your ears: "the whole situation in Yulgamot is strange, and no one can give a straight answer as to what happened. The local authorities say that some weapon was used against Yulgamot and was followed moments later by an invasion of both archons and devils simultaneously. The Empyrean Lords have stated that dangerous terrorists attempted to destroy the plane, and their archons were only there to stop the cultists from completing their foul rituals. And the Archdevils are saying their people are just innocent bystanders that got caught up in the whole affair when the archons invaded,"

"Hah, and Asmodeus has a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me if I just sign on the dotted line. Does anyone really believe that?" a human in the group rolls her eyes upon hearing of hell's excuse.

"It's plausible and they know it. No one can prove anything with all the eye-witness accounts being inconsistent, and the nature of the damage to the plane being unclear," an angel crosses her arms sullenly.

"Thing is, they're using Heaven's response as cover. All very suspicious, the devils were definitely up to something, but doomsday cultists trying to blow up a plane isn't the modus operandi of hell at all. The Empyrean Lords don't seem eager to shoot down their defenses, so unless more information comes forward it looks like the devils are going to get away with this - again,"

[Stelio Kontos]

"Protection is ... accurate, if imprecise" Sefariel replied with equanimity. "The protection we seek is for one and all. Our more immediate purpose is to seek answers, possible solutions to the conundrum presented. Naturally, it is difficult to maintain this pursuit while acting as the quarry for the misguided -- but nonetheless, a mere survival to delay the inevitability of mortal passing is of secondary concern."

Overhearing the conversation, Sefariel looked to his allies, his eyes beckoning them for quiet. There would be time to elucidate what they knew, but this was most certainly not it.

[MesiDoomstalker]

Atticus grumbled under his breath; no words. Just surly mutterings and grunts. This place felt almost sickly sweet in its saccharine idealism. They were either lying to outsiders or to themselves. He had seen plenty of Heavenly hosts assault innocents for an unstated crime, meting out 'justice' by some inscrutable divine writ. He had long since given up the idea that one could play nice with Outsiders. They didn't see Mortals like equals, regardless of what they claim. It was either demeaning or infantilizing. Regardless, he was sick of it.

So he remained silent. He knew his surly attitude wouldn't help. So he bit his tongue.

[Darvin]

If anyone noticed you listening in to the talk of rumors, they paid no heed. The mood in the gardens and parks is trusting and laid back, and there is ample time to take in the atmosphere of the celestial plane. Peace and tranquility cannot last forever, and eventually the group separates to pursue their task and further their preparations and investigations.

Some of the party take a stroll past the location of the Custodian headquarters. Though unassuming at first glance, the building does have several characteristics that put it at odds with the rest of the street. It feels positively abandoned, with no sign of life in any of its windows and curtains drawn. It extends upwards for eight stories, and has a single double doorway serving as an entrance. The door is unmarked, and the entryway has a single bell. The only feature that defines the building is carved symbols on the handrails leading up to the entrance, intricately carved with the holy symbols of dozens of different deities of all different alignments.

One street over, a group of mortals and archons appears to be performing training drills together in the street. Their intricate choreography provides an excellent excuse to loiter. Over the course of nearly an hour, no one comes and goes through the main doors of the Custodian headquarters, though occasionally you catch a glimpse of a silhouette behind the drawn curtains. True to what Ursiyam suggested, there are very few individuals in the stronghold and almost no one comes and goes. As the group from the academy finishes their exercises, they give a short prayer to Ragathiel and then disperse. Most head back to the academy or down the streets, but one aasimar with fiery orange hair walks directly to the custodian headquarters. He withdraws a key from his belt and proceeds to unlock the door and let himself in.

Some of the group heads towards the Shining Markets. Throngs of merchants have set up storefronts here, orderly spaced to allow the innumerable customers to mill about freely and browse the wares. The merchants here seem perfectly at ease to allow customers to inspect expensive goods closely, their confidence bolstered by vigilant archons surveying the markets. Though the archons seem relaxed, their senses remain keen. Any thief plying their trade in this market is either incalculably foolish or skilled beyond peer.

One particular merchant catches your attention, its large size and alien features drawing attention to itself. It is an aeon, a very strange outsider to be acting as a merchant. Three clawed feet support its cylindrical body from below, and three clawed hands reach from above. It calmly stands over its wares. As you pass close to its stall, the aeon’s envisioning invades your mind and you are made aware of what it is selling: rare and unique tuning forks, leading to strange and unexplored reaches of the cosmos.

Spoiler: Knowledge Planes DC 29

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The specific nature of this aeon is unsettling, and raises more questions than answers. It is an Agnoia, a renegade caste feared by mortals and outsiders alike and distrusted and shunned by even their own brethren. The Agnoia are supposed to be agents that balance knowledge and ignorance of the multiverse, but collectively came to the conclusion that the balance had grown dangerously out of line as too much knowledge had disseminated through the cosmos. They are now exclusively agents of ignorance, and by focusing entirely on one aspect their power has been magnified to frightening degrees. They are able to easily erase knowledge from across the cosmos, and they reserve their most frightening power for the most learned and distinguished of scholars; not only can they wipe their memories, but also erase all the knowledge they ever disseminated in their lifetime. No one will even remember that these unfortunate amnesiacs ever existed in the first place.

Agnoia have a particular hatred of planar travelers who explore the cosmos, making this aeon merchant’s choice of wares incredibly suspicious.

Some of the group travels back to the Hall of Others, seeking out the aasimar representative Lilian Gef. Some quick questioning of a celestial bureaucrat reveals she is in a private council meeting. After about an hour of waiting, the doors to the council chamber swing open and exhausted-looking councilors emerge. An imperious angel calls out after them, “recess will be for one hour, after which will be return to deliberations,”

Lilian walks with a grace that hides her fatigue, but she’s quickly surrounded by a mob of mortals and aasimar seeking her attention. She raises her hand for silence, “I’ll do my best to speak with all of you, but could someone get me a bite to eat? I’ve only an hour before council meetings resume,”