The Vagrant Tower
A day and change travel from Alexandria, usually. Perhaps more, with the snow- the well-traveled routes are churned to brown slush by the passage of hooves and wheels and feet, while the less-well traveled ones are half hidden by the snow. All the same, it is a relatively uneventful journey to Genrivian Gorge, guided by a scout belonging to the guild of explorers. The sunken city lays as a testament to the hubris of man in ages past, though its story continues to be told in days present. But it is not the gorge itself our adventurers travel to, today.
Rather, they find themselves lead off the main path to a small campsite, the forward camp for the guild, where a team of researchers and guild representatives wait to greet them.
Among the number is a portly human woman approaching middle age but rather shy of middling height, and a silver-haired Llyranesi man wearing horn-rimmed spectacles. Having received word by means of a Message spell, they are out near the camps central firepit waiting for the arrival of the adventurers.
It was good to have some time to oneself. After months of service to the young master, Sloan had been given leave for a week while his charge went off to court a young lady of interest. Needing to get out of the estates and not wishing to deal with the nobility for awhile, the man of obvious Aesir descent had undertaken a task from his Lord Halston. Said direction being "Sloan, things are happening by the Genrivian Gorge. I cannot spare a scout on this matter, but I find myself curious. The Adventurer's Guild are sending people out there, go on my behalf and see if there would be use for the company."
And thus Sloan finds himself being guided towards the camp. Still dressed for service in a pair of black, relaxed fitting pants. Wool in deference to the cold instead of their usual linen, a white long sleeved tunic, and a gray woolen traveling cloak, hood pulled up to protect his ears from the wind and trap some of the heat around his face. The waterproofed, soft soled boots on his feet rounded off the outfit that seemed strangely devoid of weaponry save for a single utilitarian knife tucked into his belt that looked like it had been borrowed from the kitchens as he went out the door.
Among the adventurers is a wild elf with dark skin and even darker eyes. Her long black hair is dyed pink halfway down its length, and matches the pink coat she's wearing over her dress. Her clothes are clean and fashionable, and perhaps a little on the impractical side. However her boots are sturdy and more built for walking than fashion, and she _is_ wearing pants under her skirts. So she's clearly prepared, a thought emphasized by the bow slung across her back. She offers a wave to the pair that comes out to greet them and steps forward to offer her hand to shake if either are inclined. "Greetings! I'm Auranar, what can you tell us about what we can expect?"
Magpie has not at all been shy about traveling behind the larger members of the group; even a horse, to sit comfortably, must be sized to fit, and a gnome-sized horse is no kind of animal to be breaking a trail through the snow.
She keeps up a lively stream of chatter during the journey, switching from topic to topic like a hummingbird in a flower field, apparently unable to stay on one topic for any notable length of time. "--and it's like it was *my fault* that the little snot was trying to pay me to write his paper for him! I'm a research assistant, not a student! And I am *not* gonna write a thesis I don't plan on defending, and *who could possibly defend* a study on black cat familiars versus torties?! 'Orange cats are the worst familiars' my--"
Which is about when the camp comes into view, and Magpie's hand shoots up to wave frantically. "Heyyyyyy the camp! I'm Magpie, and we'll be your canaries for the day!"
And amongst the adventurers is a collection of rags and cloaks - no, that is just Crik. Clinging onto his weather worn journal, there was a blank stare in the corvid's dark, beady eyes. When the group finally arrives towards the designated meeting point, he suddenly flourishes into motion - and barely pausing to give a jerky, hobbly bow at the pair, he is already up and out trying to explore the campsite.
At the mention of canaries, a distant 'caw' can be heard.
Stepping away from the fire, the taller of the pair is the first to greet them- stiffly pushing his glasses up, and offering a solemn nod in greeting. "Canaries indeed." he muses, although it's difficult, perhaps impossible, to tell if there is any actual amusement there. "Greetings. Welcome to... Beachhead camp." His tone implies he was outvoted on the naming committee. "I am Jarren, this is my partner-" the human woman interjects, waving cheerily from her seat by the fire. "Anna!" she calls over, finally rising and braving the cool. "We're so glad you came. Isn't this exciting!?" she wonders.
"...Quite." The lean one continues. "As for what to expect- well, how much do you know about the planes? So far as we have been able to determine, the portal is two-way- so you'll be able to return through it. But its destination seems somehow chaotic. Given how it suddenly appeared, we expect there is some degree of instability in the magic which would normally make any kind of interplanar portal impossible to establi-" he drones on in a monotone way.
"What he means is, it goes to more place than one. But they all lead back here." Anna interjects once again. "From what we've been able to make out from the inscriptions on the dais, all the places it leads /used/ to be one structure. A tower of some kind. But somehow the tower has ended up split into pieces, floating around between the planes."
Listening to the pair give their explanations, and somewhat to Magpie, whom Sloan was finding amusing, though he refused to let his face show this, the man-servant turns his attention towards the portal. then back to the group before speaking in a quiet, low Alto tone. "So, your preference in this matter, would be that we adjourn into the portal to see where it will take us then. Would that be about the crux of the proposal?" As he speaks, Sloan's eyes follow Crik's travels around the camp
Auranar looks at the pair and blinks her surprise but nods slowly. "I see. I suppose our effort then is to map out the tower and get an idea of what lies inside?" She inquires curiously. Almost echoing Sloan really, but her question is slightly different so she lets it stand.
"Oh wow, okay," Magpie says, listening wide-eyed to the explanation, and nodding along with the questions asked. "So we really *are* canaries. With maps. I wonder if the connection between each chunk is stable? Probably has to be, if we can be assured to come back... Okay, this is *exciting,*" she says, clapping her hands together and giving them a brisk rub. "I've never been to another plane before, and apparently we might get to see all of them! *Definitely* gonna write Dad about this..."
"This. Is. Extraordinary." A low croaking voice states behind Anna and Jarren, with a voice beheld with awe. Crik's journal was opening and he had already dropped few of small pieces of paper to the ground. Most of them dealt with the planes, just bits and pieces pecked out of random books. Snapping his journal shut, the hooded and cloaked rogue looks between them for a moment. Then at the ground. Then back at Jarren. "Do all parts return in a simile of the original shape or the reflection cast by the inquiring mind when traveling the portal?"
Jarren speaks up again, "Or perhaps simply to an extraplanar space." casting a clance to cut off an excited reply to Magpie from Anna. "We simply don't know without sending someone through, and we- well, we're researchers. Dealing with possible traps or monsters is not within our remit." he explains. "As for stability... it is relatively stable, for now. But our initial findings seem to indicate that the connection between this plane and wherever the portal leads is... transitory. It's impossible to say precisely how long this... transitory space." "Vagrant Tower!" Anna chimes in, "...this Transitory Space will remain in contact with the material plane. We're certain it will remain traversable for weeks, perhaps months, not hours or days."
"In short" Anna says, taking on a more serious tone, "Get in there and deal with any nasties, and let us know what you find. But if things get too hairy, come right on back."
Seeiming to consider the proposal for a moment, Sloan looks down a picks a fleck of dust from his surprisingly clean cloak. "Very well. My lord Halston has asked that I venture out here and see if there was something that his company might do in assistance. As he is a man of martial means, and I would be remiss in my duties were I not thorough in my investigations and enquiries, I shall venture on with the rest of my impromptu comrades should they wish it."
His piece said, Sloan steps back from the group, hands folded behind his back in a comfortable waiting posture honed from years of practice, and...waits.
Auranar nods, accepting that the mission was largely what she'd expected it to be. "We will do our best." She tucked away the thought that they might need to run in the back of her mind and looked around the group. "Does anyone have some note-taking equipment? I left mine at home. I didn't expect to need it." The wild elf looks a touch embarrassed at the admission.
"You got it!" Magpie chirps, then grins at Auranar. A moment's rummaging through her pack, and the gnome produces a small book and charcoal stick. "Sorry it's me-sized," she says, holding the writing set up to the elf. "Best I got, though. I got another one for me, don't worry."
Pausing, she visibly reels back the conversation, and her grin grows even wider as it turns toward Anna. "'Vagrant Tower,' I love it! It's *perfect* for a title head! *Definitely* let me know when your paper gets put in the archives, I'm *so* gonna make a copy on my time off! Oh, um... Yeah I'm okay to go! Wish us luck!"
Crik puts his journal into his cloak, before he slowly draws it out at Auranar's words - and then it's gone again. "I could stay for weeks? Months?" This seemed to throw the egalrin rogue to a whirl. Moments later, he hops on over Sloan and stands behind him, a similar pose of a statue.
With the questions out of the way, the polar pair of researchers show the adventurers to the Dais proper- it could be seen from the camp, at a distance. But drawing nearer, it's a much more impressive site. The walk takes them down the sloping side of the crater at the center of which is the dais and stone circle upon it. The dais is ringed with steps to the elevated ring, which is formed of segments of stone. Each segment is inscribed with an arcane glyph of some kind- and they do not seem to be simply resting upon one another. Rather, there are visible gaps in the masonry, and the stone vibrates and hums softly, held in place by arcane energies.
At present, only one of the glyphs is lit up. "Now, this is why we're /sure/ it must lead to multiple places. Here." Anna points out the glowing glyph. "This is a waymark. It traces a path through space. These other glyphs share a similar design but they seem to be... off." "Dormant." "Right, that. We haven't been able to figure out a way to switch them on from out here, but we're hoping there might be clues inside." she explains. "When you're ready to go, step up onto the dais. The portal will open when you're near, and close again when you get far enough away from it. We're completely-" "Fairly." "-sure that the return portal works the same way."
Following the pair towards the Dais, Sloan raises an eyebrow at the 'fairly' comment. But the Aesir says nothing on the matter Flexing his fingers under the cloak a couple of times, Sooan nods as he steps forward. "Let it not be said that Lord Halston's men were left wanting." and then he is on the Dais itself stepping towards the portal before he pauses to offer an assisting hand to the others more out of habit than necessity.
Auranar smiles a broad grin at Magpie and gratefully accepts the book and charcoal. "It's perfect, thank you." She offers in reply, flipping the book open and then closed again and tucking it into a pocket for safe-keeping until it is necessary again. She follows the group along to the dais where the runes are - somewhat - explained and she feels a short swell of trepidation about knowing so little about this magic. "We'll do our best. I guess..."
The wild elf hesitates only a moment before accepting Sloan's hand and going up the dais. "Here we go!"
Magpie clambers up onto the dais, hopping up and down in place as she waits for the portal to be activated. "Barely-known and definitely-not-understood magic that'll zap us off to a probably-safe-ish place in *another plane,* and we'll probably have to puzzle out the way back? *And then we'll get to go again later?* Man, *now* what am I gonna ask for on my birthday... Lets go let's go!"
Crik barely takes a second to hop onto the dais. The corvid egalrin keeps looking around himself with the tilts of his beak; but seeing nothing immediately happening, he hops onto the dais again.
As the group approach the Dais, the humming in the air grows more palpable. There's a tingling sensation in the feet caused by the vibrating stones, and the tingling grows to a rumbling as suddenly a point of blue light appears at the center of the stone circle. More blue light begins to run from the perimeter of the circle, emerging like droplets of pure magical energy seeping from the stone itself, coalescing into a slowly swirling vortex in the center. And then all at once the vortex blooms outwards, filling the arch with a sheet of shimmering light.
The humming stops, and the portal stands, silently, waiting to convey its passengers.
Once everyone is on the dais, Sloan nods once more, straightens his back and steps forward. He wasn't at home to magic, but there were appearances to keep up afterall.
Auranar stares for a long moment at the portal, feeling that distinct sense of unease again. She shakes it off and steps forward to step through the portal. "I was sort of expecting the portal to suck us in as we stepped onto the dias. A portal makes more sense in retrospect." She offers a half-wave to the pair of researchers staying behind and then - walks on through.
With a joyous cry, Magpie leaps into the portal directly after Sloan and Auranar. Perhaps it's an unstable portal headed to an unknown destination, but one thing is always true.
If you stand behind the big folk, you're less likely to come to grief.
Crik holds up his notebook and takes a moment to replicate the portal - in this case, by doing a large swirl over all the tiny detailed notes he has made. Finally, he hops in after the rest of the folks with an open beak. And mind.
There is a timeless sensation as the group enter the portal, it could last mere moments, or eons, as the group leave the bounds of reality and the laws that govern time and space. There is a sensation somewhere between floating weightless in a body of water, and being buffeted by gales, an odd dichotomy that nevertheless feels entirely natural in the moment. And then they find themselves standing in a circular room, constructed of hefty granite flagstones. The portal illuminates it with a gentle, dappled blue light.
Ahead there is a single iron-banded wooden door. There is a faint... sound, or rather sensation. A deep bass noise that pulses and ebbs like distant thunder. It is the sort of sound that is felt in the diaphragm more than it is heard.
As Sloan steps through the portal, his stomach seems to feel as though it wanted to stay behind. And then they were through. Still standing erect with that typical Valet's posture, the Aesir reminds himself in the confines of his own mind ~One does not vomit in mixed company~
Internal reprimand dealt with, he takes in his surroundings before motioning towards the door with a linen gloved hand. "I admit that I am apprehensive on weather it would be in our best interests to go through that door, or to leave it alone."
GAME: Crik rolls knowledge/the planes: (17)+3: 20 GAME: Auranar casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
"Well staying here forever sounds like a poor idea to me." Auranar says with a smile that takes the bite out of her words. "But now is a good time to prepare for what might be beyond." With those words she begins casting a spell, focusing her will on the power that burns inside her and solidifying it on her skin. There's an outward shimmer as the spells settles on her flesh, offering her some protection from expected attacks.
"Honestly we're not gonna get *any* good notes from just this little room," Magpie points out. "And anyway, being in danger's our job, right? Welp. Time to get to work!"
So saying she moves to the door and... presses herself against the wall to its right. Because a spellslinger who opens doors first is a spellslinger who will soon be in desperate need of a new face.
Crik looks at the door, tilting his head this way and that. Then he bows down. Raises back up and... moves to peck at its surface. "It is a regular portal." The corvid states, flipping his note book. "... known as a door. Does it thunder in the plane of air?"
Taking a moment to make sure there are no immediate traps, the egalrin rogue will flat out open the door.
The door, it seems, has other plans. As Magpie draws near to it, it swings open seemingly of its own volition- it's not a violent slam, nor a slow creaky creep open. But rather a single fluid motion. The opening doorway reveals a narrow corridor ahead, to a larger doorway- this one absent its door, and open to... something. A field of indigo speckled with distant, massive vortices or perhaps smaller and closer ones. It's almost impossible to judge size and distance, so uniform is the color. The only indications of substance beyond the open doorway are occasional flashes of light from deep within the vortices.
GAME: Auranar rolls Knowledge/The Planes: (19)+2: 21 GAME: Sloan rolls perception: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Magpie rolls knowledge/the planes: (19)+8: 27
Face betraying nothing as to Sloan's thought processes, the Aesir man nods and begins to step forward with the others. As Auranar mentions preparing for what may be ahead, the Valet nods. "Indeed, one must." and adjusts his clothing, checking to ensure his attire was proper and well adjusted. As the door swings open, one foot shifts back slightly, the Valet's stance squaring for a mere moment before he relaxes once more. There's another moment of consideration for his companions before Sloan motions towards the door and begins forward. "Please, allow me to take lead, I feel I would be remiss if I were to allow misfortune to befall any of us."
After her spell is wrought, Auranar moves cautiously forward, her eyes widening at the sight of the vortices. "That..." She shakes her head, not really believing her own eyes. "I've heard it described in books but... I think whatever that is over there; is a void between the planes. It would probably be very unwise to touch it."
The wild elf turns her eyes on Magpie. "Would you like a protective spell also? Just in case?" Auranar is starting to wonder if maybe she cast hers a little too early, but she would rather be safe than have it turn out that the door had opened into the lair of some beast. Really she was lucky that the portal had not.
"Hey, if you want to go in front, you've got my support!" Magpie chirps, then looks to Auranar, bobbing her head. "Probably I'd feel lots better. And--" Tilting her head, the gnome sniffs once, twice, and wets a finger to hold above her head.
"...Huh. I think you're right, Auranar... But I think we're close to something? Air, maybe, something smells zappy nearby... Hey, Crik? Would you mind keeping an eye out behind us while we move, so nothing gets a chomp from a direction we're not looking?"
"Yes." Crik responds and longingly looks at the void between the planes. He wanted to touch it. Still, his notebook gets stashed away and he continues to step along with the rest of the group.
Pressing onwards through the corridor there are two doors- the first is on the left, and then one on the right. Finally they reach the threshold outside of which the void can be seen. Stairs lead down from it, as though it is some kind of main entrance- however, the stairs dangle over the void. One can peer over the edge, if they so dare, and see that that indigo non-sky extends just as far in any direction one might choose to look. The Vortices in the distance look as though they are frozen in time, or perhaps so massive and distant that their motion cannot be readily perceived at the scale mere mortals are accustomed to.
Sloan wasn't going to lean out into non-space to enjoy the view. Checking to see that there was no way forward here, the valet nods without a word and backtracks to the first door, pausing to see if it would swing open of it's own volition before reaching out to grasp the door handle.
GAME: Auranar casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15
Auranar nods to Magpie, refocusing her magic on the other woman as she weaves her hands in the same pattern as before. It's a little different casting the spell on another person than it is casting it on herself, but she manages to make it work just the same. She seems relieved that it did; smiling in satisfaction. "There you go!" With that taken care of she follows Sloan down the hallway, venturing a bit of a glance at the void, but the sense of smallness makes her retreat quickly. "Amazing."
She pulls the book that Magpie gave her out and quickly scribes a few lines about the area thus far before she puts the things away and begins to follow Sloan once again to one of the doors. Auranar muses as she walks. "I wonder what that portal is for. It seems dangerous to just leave something like that laying around."
This door, too, swings open as soon as it is approached- some enchantment in place as a matter of convenience, perhaps. The light afforded by faintly glowing blue crystals- as well as the location of this structure- seem to hint that whoever constructed it had no small amount of magic available to them.
The door in question leads to another room, and at first glance it appears to be a library or study of some kind- there are bookshelves, filled with dusty tomes, pots full of rolls of vellum and parchment. Directly across from the door is a stained glass window that looks out upon the void, and a writing desk. There are a number of papers and even an ink pot and quill left on the table. A comfortable-looking and richly appointed chair, in carved mahogany and red velvet- sits askew before the writing desk.
Standing aside as the door swing, Sloan peers into the room before stepping forward once more. Keeping his back to the wall as he moves to the right of the portal, the valet takes in the surroundings with mild suspicion
Magpie peers around the corner at the sound of a new door opening, and a sound not unlike a teakettle ready to take off the stove escapes her lips. "Is that a *study desk?! It *is!* Okay so this is probably a wizard's tower, which probably means something funky happened to his magic while I guess he was taking a tour of the planes and OH MY GLOB he did the wizard thing and kept a study! I bet even Jarren's gonna flip his noodle if we just brought a *couple* books back!"
Slipping past the group, she wanders into the study, eyes wide and head on a swivel. "...Which means watch out for wizard-pettiness traps, I guess..."
Auranar's eyes light up at the sight of the books. "I think I wouldn't mind a few of these books myself. If we bring them back, do you think they'll let me keep one?" She sounds excited at the prospect, and makes her way to the book case, scanning the titles along the shelf. "Oh, good point. I doubt detecting magic will get us far in here but... It's a good idea to keep an eye out for traps."
GAME: Magpie rolls perception: (8)+8: 16 GAME: Auranar rolls Perception: (9)+5: 14 GAME: Sloan rolls perception: (14)+7: 21
There appears to be a letter on the study table, the inkpot is dry but its walls are stained with what was once in it- as is the quill that was left in the pot. The letter is yellowed with age, but remarkably well preserved given the apparent age of the ruins which formed the portal here. It looks legible, although it is in a very old dialect- not easily readable for anyone but an avid linguist. There's an envelope next to it, as well as a candle burned all the way down to the table, its wax spread out in an irregular blotch, and a seal- likely intended to have been used to seal the envelope.
GAME: Sloan rolls stealth: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Subduction rolls 0: (4)+0: 4
Stopping inside the door, Sloan turns his attention to the south, holding up a hand, the valet calls out softly. "I believe we are not alone." With apparently no more to say on the subject, he pulls his grey cloak a little closer about himself and seems to fade into the shadows. Not disappearing by any means, but his outline blends a bit more with the darker surroundings as he makes his way towards the end of the book case.
"Maybe if we ask nicely? I mean, first we have to figure out *how* to ask nicely, but it sho--" Trailing off, the gnome's brow furrows, one long ear twitching as she picks up a sound. "--should... be... okay hey Auranar? I might be losing my mind, but I *think* I hear breathing. Or papers moving. Or both, which case this will probably be the *second* wizard we meet who's booked himself up. One more and I *will* write a paper."
Careful meanderings take her to the bookcase, where she starts to hunt through the spines. "Please make it just a little easy on us and be like 'Allspark McPointyhat, by Allspark McPointyhat'..."
"I don't hear anything." Auranar admits, carefully not touching anything, but still searching the book case for a book that doesn't belong. Or really anything that looks interesting. "Do you really think that someone _else_ could transform themselves into a boo? I doubt they'd use the same magic, but the same effect would be very interesting."
THUD.
Thud. Thud thud thud. The sounds of books falling suddenly from the shelves, here and there, landing on their spines (don't tell the librarian) and falling open to random pages. The thudding continues as more and more books pour from the shelves, before finally they begin to rise up from the ground, flapping on leatherbound hardback wings, pages falling out of them like errant papery feathers.
-End