Death With a View

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Revision as of 04:11, 23 August 2024 by Aftershock (talk | contribs) (Created page with "Isobar is a beautiful place, especially in late summer. Therefore, the airship ride over is the exact opposite of a hardship. The air is temperate. The Sea of Ea glitters as Daeus's rays dance on the waves. The sky is blue with fluffy clouds. If it weren't for the fact that the reason that Aragos, Slixvah, a nameless goblin, and Khepri are all on an airship happens to be work-related... It would be a nice pleasure cruise. Alas, the estate of Lord Timoteo, scion of the H...")
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Isobar is a beautiful place, especially in late summer. Therefore, the airship ride over is the exact opposite of a hardship. The air is temperate. The Sea of Ea glitters as Daeus's rays dance on the waves. The sky is blue with fluffy clouds. If it weren't for the fact that the reason that Aragos, Slixvah, a nameless goblin, and Khepri are all on an airship happens to be work-related... It would be a nice pleasure cruise.

Alas, the estate of Lord Timoteo, scion of the House of Cotes, was rather... particular about the timetable. In fact, the moment that the group arrives, a servant woman named Ines meets them at the airship station, escorting them in horse-drawn carriage to Lord Timoteo's manor. She explains that the Lord has very little time to explain anything, and that everyone is to pay some form of compliment to the Lord's facial hair. "He has spent some time cultivating it. He's seventeen, you see, and he's... quite proud of his efforts."

Indeed, young Lord Timoteo is sporting a mustache and goatee when Ines ushers you into the room. He's dressed almost too finely for his station. There's a gaudy-looking beaded necklace of gold that culminates in a symbol of Ceinara. "Hello and salutations, grand adventurers." Oh yes. That is an Isobaran accent, all right. "I am Timoteo Pascual Cotes Pina, recently-ascended lord of the House of Cotes." There's a pride in his voice for this fact. "I understand you are here to help with the matter of the mirror, and I have an engagement this afternoon to go horseback riding with my fiancee, Isabella. So, please. Feel free to ask me whatever it is that adventurers ask."

Even after the pleasant airship ride, Aragos is far from a sunny disposition. The paladin of Vardama spent the entire trip glaring at the sunshine as if it personally offends him in some way and muttering to himself about 'could be doing something better with my time'. Though he never really explains what that 'something' is. Even if pressed the best one gets is an embarrassed look and then a glare.

Once you're on the road to the house of the lord he seems in somewhat better spirits at least until he is asked to complement the lord's facial hair. Then his small pick-up dissolves and he utterly ignores the woman there-after. Notably, he doesn't complement the lord on his facial hair. Far from it. "Did a racoon die on your face?"

Aragos is leaning against a wall looking bored and unhappy. "Or you mean work-related. Right. Why in the nine hells haven't you gotten rid of a mirror that is eating your servants? This doesn't seem complicated."

Despite the work related reasons, the ride over on the cruise has Slixvah in contrast to Aragos, very high spirits. Open air, several (many) jumps off the deck to return back later.

And now she's in the estate, half floofed from all the airtime, hands akimbo on her hips as she's ushered into the room from the kind servant Ines. "Grand day to you, Lord Timoteo Pascual Cotes Pina! Name's Slixvah!" she chirps happily. A side glance is shot to Aragos, but she keeps up the quipping. "Lovely facial flense. Is that agave oil keeping it all kosher? Das a good choice!"

She taps her beak, thinking. "Uh... which shift does ya servants go missin'? Like da mornin folks? Da night time...?"

The trip was interminable for Khepri, but the wargolem is used to waiting. Patience is a virtue of the Harpist, after all. And it wasn't like there was no one to talk to. Khepri had of course offered to officiate church services as needed, especially for Aragos since he was one of the faithful.

Whether such offers were appreciated is another matter, but that's a discussion for a later date.

In the meantime, the beaked countenance of the wargolem Executor regards Lord Timoteo with a blank expression and glowing yellow eyes. "Yes. The mission packet was somewhat lacking. It only stated your household was 'losing' servants, and a mirror might be involved." A pause. The golem tilts its head quizzically, staring at the young lord as Aragos makes a terrible impression. "It does seem to be slow growing. This may be a sign of sildanyari ancestry in your background."

The goblin frowns at the rushed briefing, muttering to herself as they wander in that this Lord is probably less concerned about the missing servants than that his horse took a few minutes longer to get ready due to the short staffing. But she tries to keep it to herself. For now. "Well, if you're in a rush then..." she takes a deep breath and rattles off at high speed "Whydoyouthinkthemirror'sinvolved? Who'smissingandwhen? Nicebeardorwhatever? Oopsthatwasn'tsupposedtobeaquestion. ShouldIcasthaste? Thiscangofaster. Doyouhaveanypersonaleffectsofamissingperson." She stops to take another breath then continues with a grin, "Canweexplodethemirror? CanIhaveyourhat?" she pauses, opens her mouth to keep going, but shrugs "I think I ran out of questions."

"What--" Lord Timoteo is perplexed at first, then outraged. "First off, no, that is _not_ a... wild, trash-eating, disgusting little beast on my face." That one's for Aragos. "And yes, metal-man, I do, in fact, have a sildanyari ancestor. My great-great-grandmother, who tragically passed away giving birth to her third child, my great-great-grandfather... Timoteo Nicolas Cotes Lupecyll." Timoteo gives a heaving sigh. "Obviously, I was named after him."

He seems to not know what 'flense' means. He smiles at Slixvah, before he addresses Fidget's barrage of questions. "I only caught some of that, but it's not a _beard_, it's a _goatee_. Truth be told, I haven't even noticed my servants disappearing, other than that there aren't people cleaning up the hallways anymore. Yesterday I stepped in my beloved cat's mess! Absolutely terrible. Poor Gatito was embarrassed, too." Here he points to a black cat that is eyeing the group from the corner of the room. "See? Embarrassed."

He sighs. "The servants don't bring anything of theirs to their personal quarters; I do not allow it. But as for the mirror itself... I bought it after a cousin of mine, who is in the mercantile trade, wrote to me to tell me of a beautiful mirror that I could admire myself in." He walks over to a large curtain and draws it away, revealing... a mirror that spans seven feet in height, gilded around the edges in fine work. "But I have a servant that swears she keeps seeing people walking _into_ it and never coming out. You might have met her already. Her name is Ines. I think."

Aragos eyes Timoteo a bit. Clearly thinking deeply about something. It seems that the ancestors name resonates with the paladin in some way. He sighs then, straightening a little bit. "In honor of your great-great-grandmother's lineage, I suppose that I can let go the fact that you don't even know your own servants names."

"For now." He mutters to himself, striding toward the mirror. He stops a fair distance back though. "Any of you good with magical stuff? Maybe tell me if this thing is enchanted? You know... like if we break it there won't be a bunch of trapped inside?"

GAME: Nameless casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 9 DC: 17
GAME: Nameless rolls spellcraft+4: (19)+21+4: 44

Khepri blankly stares at Timoteo, unfazed by the metal-man remark. "Precisely." Moving on to more important matters, the Executor listens to Timoteo's tale of woe (and untended cleaning duties). The eyes glint with some interest, especially when the mirror is revealed.

"There are mirrors with magical properties. Did you not have it assessed when you purchased it?" The Executor moves over to begin studying the mirror, the yellow eyes shifting to green for a moment as Khepri studies the very large looking-glass.

GAME: Khepri casts Detect Magic. Caster Level: 6 DC: 13
GAME: Khepri rolls spellcraft: (13)+9: 22

The amusement from her companions is easy to hide with a static beak, though Slix's eyes twinkle. She glances down to look at the black cat. A coo escapes her. "Awww, baybeee...!" she hums, kneeling down and holding a hand out towards the feline. There's a glance up at the man as he mentions how his servants are treated. Just like Aragos, she lets it slide.

The mirror is revealed, but others have a handle on it. She's got more important matters to attend to. Like this kitty.

GAME: Slixvah rolls handle animal: (17)+3: 20
GAME: Slixvah rolls will: (13)+13: 26

"Ooh! Ooh! I am!" The goblin exclaims excitedly, "Gimme a sec." she says as she begins making gestures in the air and speaking arcane sounding noises, and then her eyes glow briefly as her 'knowing magic stuff spell' settles in. She takes a long 18 seconds examining it, fidgeting on the spot while she tries to pry out its secrets, swaying slightly between one foot and the other. "It is..." dramatic pause... "a mirror."

"But more specifically, it's a mirror that can Plane Shift things. Your people are in serious trouble. They're also probably underpaid. But that's not the mirror's fault. You'll be glad to know this is probably not a problem we can solve by exploding the mirror." she does sound a little disappointed by that last bit.

Looking at the others, "Are we gonna hop in the mirror? Seems like the obvious but super dangerous way to solve it."

"Oh please! My people are paid the going rate for servants around here." Lord Timoteo scoffs. "And no, I did not have it assessed for magic. I had no clue it would be magic. All I was told is that it was a very lovely mirror. Which it is."

He peers at Aragos. "Yes, well, I'm told the Lupecyll name is making a comeback. I heard something about a half-sil couple down in that city of yours. Good for them! Good for them--"

His eyes widen as he watches Slixvah petting the cat. "Gatito!" he gasps. And indeed, for Slixvah, there's a moment in time--agonizingly long--where Gatito's green eyes lock onto Slixvah's. This cat is studying her. Looking _into_ her. Peering into her soul--

"Mow." Gatito has a polite meow. The cat accepts the pets, but then immediately after, the not-small-cat (despite its name) bounds to the mirror, grooming fur that's been put out of place.

"Huh. Usually Gatito bites." Timoteo looks surprised a moment longer before shrugging. "Anyway! Please take care of the matter. I'm going to go riding now, if you do not mind."

And the Lord exits, leaving the party alone with... Gatito. Who looks placidly at the group.

Aragos looks at the cat after the lord has left. "You know. I heard a story once, about a place in the cosmos where there are dark versions of ourselves waiting to take over our lives. You don't suppose that the cat is... not a cat. I mean... *where* does the mirror go?" He looks at the cat suspiciously. "I mean, jumping in when we don't know sounds like a good way to get lost in some other plane with no way back."

"Concur. The mirror is a plane-shifting device." Khepri's voice is flat and somewhat disapproving. "I am unfamiliar with the market value of such a mirror, but I suspect it is -far- more than Lord Timoteo paid for it."

The wargolem shifts its shoulders, metal clinking. "An attempt must be made to at least locate those servants who went missing. To do so we would need to enter the mirror." A pause. "However, you may wish to pray first, before entering. If you require a blessing I can provide it." Khepri reaches up to remove a few of the small scarab-charms it wears around its neck, if anyone wants one.

Khepri glances a bit disinterestedly at the cat. "Feline behavior is well documented, Sir Knight. Cats do as they please. There is an extensive Veyshanti treatise in the temple library if you wish to peruse it when we return."

Slixvah stares back at the cat, hand outstretched. Perhaps it the oddities she's used to, or something else, but she grins and runs a talon along the side of Gatito's face. "It's all in how ya approach 'em," she chirps to the Lord before giving him a wave goodbye.

She rises to her full height, stretching her wings out, looking only mildly surprised at the information about the mirror. "Different plane? Honestly don' surprise me, givin' th' level of detail we gettins is nil."

Aragos offers that potential, and she looks down at the cat. "You ain' a lil' goober transmogrified o' a super smart cat, yuh? We can keep a secret, honest." She grins.

She stuffs her hands in her pockets. Glances at the Vardaman paladin. "Honestly, as the Isobarans say: 'A la mierda, nosotros pelota'."

"Yeah, it would be pretty risky, and I don't yet have a way to plane hop myself. Soon though, and I'm sure being trapped in some kind of hell would be encouragement to learn quickly. But sure, we can call that plan D." She looks around at the cat as some of the others question it, and focuses her magic detection spell on it, expecting it to show up with the usual number of detected cat enchantments (the usual number is none but with a suspicion that it's hiding something). Instead she sees the magic of her spell get sucked into the cat and she's left with *normal people* sight. "Huh, neat! That cat is something weird to be sure. It just absorbed my spell. Normal cats do not do that. I have checked."

GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (19)+6: 25
GAME: Khepri rolls knowledge/dungeoneering+3: (4)+9+3: 16
GAME: Nameless rolls knowledge/dungeoneering: (18)+11: 29

"Mow," Gatito says in response to Slixvah's question. The cat grooms itself a moment more, before it taps the mirror with its tail. The mirror suddenly flickers to life. There's an image that appears then: a purple forest, lit up by glittering lights every now and then. It reeks of something.

"Mow." The cat walks into the corner of the room, opposite the mirror. It cleans its paw again, before looking at everyone like, 'What are you waiting for? I opened the way for you.'

Aragos sighs at the forest and the cat. "Well. I suppose that answers that the best we can expect." He looks at the forest. "I'm headed through. If you want to wait a few seconds to see if I come back... It might be a good idea. I'll at least try to toss a stick back or something. If it comes through damaged maybe don't follow."

With that the paladin of Vardama murmurs a low prayer to his goddess that sounds suspiciously like, "Don't forget I have a date this weekend Gray Lady." Then he steps through.

Slixvah blinks as she watches the cantrip get all but ate up. "Ahaa- you ain' a normal kitty. Tha's jus' fine." Then the furball opens up the portal in the mirror. "I know purple trees. Watch ya'lls tongues. And the plants will eat you. Fey time."

She grins."Ey, Gatito, if you wanna let us out when we go in, I'll go yoink ya favorite dish in the kitchen here," she offers, pulling out a wand, twirling it, bopping her beak with it and slotting back into a sheathe in her robe. Her feathers flutter a bit.

"Alright sugar," Slix hums to Aragos. Snickers quietly at half the words heard, then ambles on through once all is well.

GAME: Slixvah used a Wand of Mage Armor.

Khepri stares at the cat as well suspiciously, but does not take further action. Indeed, it's like something is gently tugging at the wargolem. Puzzled, the Executor looks at the heavy khopesh sheathed at its side, and rests its hand on the pommel. "The Harpist sees us all. The words will be spoken, the dead remembered."

Aragos's odd prayer gets the Executor's attention, and if the golem could raise an eyebrow... but for now, there's work to be done, as Khepri follows the others through the looking glass.

"Well, skipping directly to plan D then." the colourful gobbo remarks with a shrug, pausing for long enough that she'd see if Aragos immediately got incinerated or anything else awesome but undesired. "Hope we don't all die, cat. You don't want to get haunted by a Paladin, they'll be all 'woo, don't sit on the furniture' and stuff.” Then she hops in after.

Through the glass, the intrepid party goes. Their steps into the forest reveals that it is indeed something like 'fey time', as Slixvah's put it. The world is cold, like the chill of autumn. There's lights that blink and shimmer mid-air randomly through the woods, and below the feet of the adventuring party.

It'd be beautiful, if this wasn't a place where, apparently, servants are getting lost.

GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (9)+16+2: 27
GAME: Khepri rolls perception: (11)+12: 23
GAME: Aragos rolls Perception: (7)+2: 9
GAME: Nameless rolls perception: (8)+12: 20

Slixvah gets settled behind the metal clad and clad-of-metal figures, her joyous expression cresting with a dash of seriousness. She's about to step further, but her foot hovers for a second. "... voices. Old man, woman's. Uh-" She cocks her head to the side. "... Sylvan, fey. Talk of mortals. And- oh the man's giving her death threats, sugars we's on a lil' time crunch."

Aragos nods to Slixvah. "On we go then." He moves forward then, though the truth is that he can't hear a damned thing. "Hopefully we don't get lost in the process." He half-follows everyone else just because he's not sure where the voices are coming from.

The golem tilts its head, and nods. "Fey are trouble," Khepri intones flatly. Smoothly, the Executor fits its shield to its left arm, locking it in place, before drawing its khopesh. The curving sword seems to quiver in his grip, a sheen of light seen along the polished surface as the bird-faced construct stalks forward.

"Ah, lead the way then. I can hear them but I don't know what they're saying yet." the goblin says, moving in the direction of the voices and weaving a magic spell to aid her understanding.

GAME: Nameless casts Comprehend Languages. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18
GAME: Nameless casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18
GAME: Aragos rolls Perception: (9)+2: 11
GAME: Slixvah rolls alertness: aliased to perception+2: (3)+16+2: 21
GAME: Khepri rolls perception: (15)+12: 27

The group advances, and two pairs of eyes spot something. With the nameless goblin's newfound comprehension, she and Slixvah both understand the words being spoken now--which even Aragos can hear now, even if he doesn't understand them.

"You are a _fool_," says the woman's voice in the lovely tones of a native Sylvan speaker. "I have an alliance with the Baroness. She will strike you down if you do to me what you've done to the others!"

Khepri's shield arm suddenly snaps out in front of Aragos to stop him moving forward. Smoothly, the golem points with his khopesh, point to a thin thread strung along the path, then to where it is tied to some small bells. Only when the golem is sure Aragos sees the alarm, does it lower its shield and gesture for the others to step -over- the thread, and not run into it.

Slixvah's breath hitches as they stop quick, Khepri quick on the draw and pointing out the wire. She gently steps over it, holding her up her wings and hiking her many robes up. "Lady's got some in wit' a Baroness- thanks Kheppi- it's gettin' kinda saucy and not in the fun way," she whispers, continuing to translate as they advance.

"Hey, wait up!" the goblin complains as she has to split her attention between casting and hurrying, "Some of us have shorter legs and are easily distracted." she says as she gets a little closer, noticing the others slowing to go over the obstacle. Now she's close, she whispers, "Did I miss what he did to the others? Was it gruesome? Do we know who the Baroness is? I feel like I'm reading in the middle of a book."

Aragos carefully steps over the bells and line, though he doubts that his armor is less quiet than all that. Still, he tries to be stealthy now that they're drawing close enough for the voices to be heard even by him - who seems to be the last to know about it. He nods gratefully to Khepri, but doesn't voice his gratitude.

The group advances, and it's Aragos, Slixvah, and Khepri who get sight of them first. It's a _group_ of small old men, wielding scythes with evil gleams in their eyes. Around the lovely woman of fae origin--it's obvious on account of her long ears, green skin, and plant/wooden fashion--are a mound of dead bodies. People who were once alive, their blood decorating themselves and the floor. She's bound tightly with something metallic around her hands, and she looks deeply unhappy.

"Ach! Mortals!" one of the scythe-wielders bellow. The group spins around, and they're itching to add to their pile.

GAME: Slixvah rolls knowledge/nature: (17)+9: 26
GAME: Nameless rolls knowledge/nature: (11)+19: 30
GAME: Slixvah casts Waves of Fatigue. Caster Level: 10 DC: 20
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+4: (9)+4: 13

Slixvah rolls around the corner with the others, and blinks in surprise as one of them yell out at them. "Ach! Redcaps!" she shouts, rushing forward as black energy builds in her hand. "Gross! Ouy rae tetgign ypee!" she chants, slapping both hands together as a there's a massive wave of necromancy that slams into the redcaps. A ghostly after image of them is jaunted out of their bodies, sapping their strength.

She tottles back towards the crew. Totally didn't just necromancy in front of a bunch Vardamanites. Oops. "Use cold iron on 'em! And dey hate holy symbols!"

One of the redcaps is just fast enough catch Slixvah as she comes forward. Even though he's fatigued by Slixvah's spell, it doesn't stop him. "I'll pluck all of your feathers!" he cries out as he swings out his foot.

It misses entirely, but the redcap doesn't stop moving, joining his brothers again.

GAME: Nameless casts Haste. Caster Level: 9 DC: 20
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+4: (1)+4: 5 (EPIC FAIL)

"Redcaps? I've heard of them. Nasty things, but *enough* fire will fix them. Didn't bring any cold iron. I really should start carrying that. Like all the time." the goblin suggests, as she scurries up next to a birb and casts a haste spell to cover the group, "Go fast and wreck things!" she encourages the others.

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+3: (16)+3: 19
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d4+6: (3)+6: 9
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+4: (9)+4: 13

Most of the rest of the redcaps charge forward. Only one of two manages to get a hit on Slixvah, his boot tasting blood, and he cackles in glee as he backs away as his brethren do. Another goes for the nameless goblin, but he misses as soundly as the other one attacking Slixvah had.

GAME: Khepri rolls weapon9+3: (12)+8+3: 23
GAME: Khepri rolls weapon9+3: (19)+8+3: 30 (THREAT)
GAME: Khepri rolls weapon9+3: (2)+8+3: 13
GAME: Khepri rolls damage9+2d6+2: aliased to 1d8+1+2d6+2: (3)+1+(4)+2: 10
GAME: Khepri rolls damage9+2d6+2: aliased to 1d8+1+2d6+2: (1)+1+(4)+2: 8
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+9: (12)+9: 21

There is a flash of pale light, limning Khepri's spindly form and picking out the symbol of Vardama proudly displayed on its breastplate. "I am one of the blessed of the Harpist. You are as wheat before the scythe. What can the harvest hope for, if not the care of the reaper?"

The khopesh in Khepri's fist glitters with a hard, focused light, and rises and falls like a metronome, once, twice, savagely cutting into the redcap as the golem hacks at the evil fey like a particularly irritating weed.

Seeing his comrade carved into by Khepri, the last of the redcaps to act surges forward. Wearied by Slixvah's spell, he nonetheless brings his scythe down to bear onto Khepri, but it _clinks_ off the war golem's armor, the flat side of the blade hitting it. Scythes are somewhat awkward things to handle when one is tired.

GAME: Aragos rolls 1d20+11+1+4+1: (8)+11+1+4+1: 25
GAME: Aragos rolls 1d20+11+1+4+1: (7)+11+1+4+1: 24
GAME: Aragos rolls 1d20+6+1+4+1: (8)+6+1+4+1: 20
GAME: Aragos rolls 2d6+6+1+7: (9)+6+1+7: 23
GAME: Aragos rolls 2d6+6+1+7: (12)+6+1+7: 26
GAME: Aragos rolls 2d6+6+1+7: (5)+6+1+7: 19

Aragos steps forward, creating a bulwark with his body at Khepri's side. "Vardama judges us all." He says harshly, his own holy symbol emblazoned upon his chest proudly. The blue-black armor shows the bronze symbol of weighted scales perfectly and he swings his blade once, twice, thrice, dislodging the creature's head from its shoulders and leaving it dead. "It was your time."

Purple eyes lift to look at the others. "As will it be yours if you do not leave this place in peace... Though it would give me great pleasure to see you dead; so stay." Aragos grins.

GAME: Slixvah casts Glitterdust. Caster Level: 10 DC: 17
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (15)+7: 22
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (3)+7: 10
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (2)+7: 9

Slixvah briskly ducks out of the way as a boot tries to plant itself on her face. "You could pluck me clean and I'd still be the hottest chick this side o' Ea. Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful. If you get rid of ya yee-yee ass hat you'd get some dryads in ya court," she chatters, continuing to duck and weave.

"Eyo do /not/ use fire, we ain' pissin' off fey. And do not set the pretty lady on fi- OW!" she yelps, clutching her face. Her wings rustle, and the feathers unravel like unspool ribbon, thudding to the ground. A curvy dagger is pulled out. She smacks it against a tree, getting its purple sap. "Eyo, lhafhnagb!" she chants, flicking the sap off as it sparkles and flares into a hundred brilliant motes, blinding almost half of them. Taking the ìniative, she bats her wings, doing a long leap as she lands next to the bound feywoman. "Don't worry, we will get you out," she coos. <sylvan>

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+9: (9)+9: 18

Something about Aragos cutting down his ally causes one of the remaining redcaps to snap. He snarls, charging forward at Aragos with his scythe, slashing madly at the man. Not that Aragos can understand him, but he's snarling, "DIE, YOU MAYFLY KNIGHT." The scythe, however, does not bite into Aragos, bouncing off the armor.

GAME: Nameless casts Fire Snake. Caster Level: 9 DC: 22
GAME: Nameless rolls knowledge/nature: (12)+19: 31
GAME: Nameless rolls 9d6: (31): 31
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (19)+10: 29
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+9: (16)+9: 25
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+9: (1)+9: 10 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+12: (11)+12: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d100: (70): 70
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+4: (18)+4: 22
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d4+6: (1)+6: 7

The goblin winces and ducks as one of the fey comes at her, barely dodging the boot swing. She peers at the other woman further away, a dryad - probably not evil, she supposes as she winds up to cast a spell that can make some of these redcaps go away and stop attacking her. Slixvah had said something, but she'd not been paying attention right then, so it takes a moment to sink in. Oh well, too late now, she thinks as she thrusts forward her arms and launches a twisting column of fire that weaves around all the redcaps and scorches those that don't scamper out of the way. "Sorry! You say something about no fire? Why? We're not going to mess with her tree and I think she hates these guys even more than we do."

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+15: (8)+15: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+12: (2)+12: 14
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (16)+10: 26
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+4: (13)+4: 17
GAME: Riptide rolls 2d4+10: (7)+10: 17

The two blinded redcaps have opposing rules of thought on how to handle combat while blind. One manages to locate Khepri with sound, _and_ he manages to also score a kick to Khepri's armor, barely managing to keep upright as he flees backwards. The other redcap, lost in the wall of sound that is combat, slashes aimlessly at nothing.

The redcap in front of Khepri, meanwhile, slashes and kicks at the war golem. His boot finds no purchase, but his scythe bites into the war golem, and the redcap is laughing maliciously.

GAME: Khepri rolls 1d20+8+1+2: (11)+8+1+2: 22
GAME: Khepri rolls 1d20+8+1+2: (7)+8+1+2: 18
GAME: Khepri rolls 1d20+8+1+2: (9)+8+1+2: 20
GAME: Khepri rolls 1d8+4+2d6+2: (4)+4+(7)+2: 17
GAME: Khepri rolls 1d8+4+2d6+2: (4)+4+(11)+2: 21
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11

Khepri stumbles slightly as the kick lands, but doesn't fall. The scythe blade strikes the golem's faceplate, though, and -- knocks it off? Sending it spinning away and the Executor turned to the side, as the plague doctor mask lands in the grass.

Then Khepri shimmers with pale light, and the damage dealt begins to close up as it turns back to face its opponent. With the mask knocked off, the inquisitor's real face can be seen: a pale oval of white jade, sculpted exquisitely, an androgynous countenance vaguely masculine. The yellow eyes still gleam from the frozen jade features.

Its shield hand shoots out to grab the scythe as the redcap winds up for another swing, and the khopesh is reversed in Khepri's fist. Stabbing downward into the redcap's chest, before wrenching back out and letting the evil fey drop.

"Who will go to the Halls of the Harpist next?"

GAME: Aragos rolls 1d20+11+1: (13)+11+1: 25
GAME: Aragos rolls 2d6+6+1: (4)+6+1: 11

Aragos isn't paying much heed to his foe at the moment, but rather on the one that had just attacked his ally. "Your friend calls me a mayfly knight. So be it. Come with me to Vardama's hall! Feel the taste of the Gray Lady for yourself." His sword barely scratches his foe, but he feels his words bite deeper.

GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (18)+7: 25
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (10)+7: 17
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+9: (14)+9: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 2d4+10: (6)+10: 16
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+4: (19)+4: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d4+6: (4)+6: 10

Bwuh, Slix said no fire! At least it's a controlled burn, and not an explosion. "Eh forgettaboutit," Slix waves off to the nameless goblin. She surveys the field for a beat, wincing as Khperi takes a rough hit. "Keep it up y'all!" Watching as he redcaps shake the dazzling flash off, she flips the knife around, grabs some ethereal strands from the air, as them going off towards the redcap. Her eyes half lid, the dagger resting on the edge of it. "Do unto others what they just did to you..." she intones, /dragging/ and fraying the fate-thread with a dull and offkey note, akin to a violin played horribly wrong.

She steps in front of the dryad, feathers wafting around like a halo of snakes.

A hex is a powerful thing. Slixvah's words take hold, and the redcap engages in melee again with the paladin of Vardama. His scythe falls and bites into Aragos, but blood spills also from the redcap's mouth. His boot lashes out and dents Aragos in one spot of the armor, but so too does the redcap's own leg bloom red.

He breathes haggardly, almost spent. "I will not die to a mortal!" he yells at Aragos, even if Aragos doesn't speak Sylvan. Hate tends to transcend linguistic boundaries.

GAME: Nameless used a Rod of Lesser Elemental.
GAME: Nameless casts Fireball. Caster Level: 9 DC: 20
GAME: Nameless rolls 9d6: (34): 34
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (13)+10: 23
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (4)+10: 14
GAME: Riptide rolls 1d20+10: (15)+10: 25

"Then die to series of stab wounds and burn damage." The gobbo suggests as she gathers a swirl of flame in her palm, then gripping a rod hanging from her waist, the swirl changes colour to a deep blue cold flame. She lobs the fire into the middle of the redcaps and it explodes in a burst of ice shards that spray the two further bloody fey, and freezes the central one solid. "Hah! Fuck yeah." she celebrates as some of them start to flee. "Do we want to deal with the others, or capture one?"

"Shit!" one of the redcaps curse as they're both bitten into by the nameless goblin's magic, watching their ally fall. Both of them run past Slixvah.

"Give Mori'amana our regards," one cruelly hisses at the dryad who is locked in cold iron manacles that are turning her wrists black, and then they're gone in the woods.

The dryad woman shudders, tears falling down her cheeks as the redcaps are gone. "Don't bother trying to find them," she says in Common. "It's more important that you take all of these poor people home." She's looking at the poor dead that are around her. "They deserved to be buried by their people's customs."

Aragos approaches the dryad, eyeing her suspiciously for a moment. "I sense no ill will in you, so I'll free you, if you let me." He motions to her chained hands and then uses his sword to cut the bonds free. "Once the words are spoken, I'll search for a key."

He's surprisingly polite to the dryad woman given his general iciness before. "Your respect for the dead does you service, we'll take them home with us. Once the words are spoken of course." Aragos plants his huge sword in the ground and watches over the funerary practice then, seeming to feel that there is little more to be said.

Slixvah blinks as the explosion is that of ice rather than fire. Neat trick. Alas, the poor redcap was bested at the hands of mortals, and the other two rush on by. The eglarin reflexively makes a half cocoon around the captured dryad as the rush past, an inverted dagger hanging over an intricate array of ethereal string figures. A threat.

Mori'amana? Must be the baroness. She sighs in relief, pulling back as she looks down at the bodies on the floor. She frowns. "Shame. They deserve better, but I'm glad at least one still lives," Slixvah softly sighs. She makes room for Aragos and the others to work, her reaching up with a little handkerchief to dab at the tears. "A little quiet for 'em, and we gotchu, sugar."

With a sigh, the gobbo cools down from combat excitement. "Okay, so no lightning bolts on the fleeing murder-fey. Shame." she follows the others towards the dryad, "Is there anything else we can do to help before we, hopefully, find our way back to the right plane? Also - which plane are we on anyway?" she asks, eyeing those cold iron bands that look like they're hurting the dryad. "Not sure how to get those off myself. Could probably try freezing them or something but I worry about collateral damage. Anyone good with lockpicks?"

"Please don't trouble yourself on my account," the dryad beseeches the goblin, frowning. "The Baroness will aid me."

She smiles at Slixvah in particular. "I am happy you came to my aid. I hope there are birds with feathers as colorful as yours that come to rest on my tree one day." The dryad turns to leave, but then she looks at the nameless goblin. She looks thoughtful for a moment.

"Listen for the name of Lady Sura. Look for her name. There will come a time soon when you may be of aid."

With those words, the dryad smiles again. "You are in the outer reaches of the land of the Baroness Mori'amana, who rules the Court of Midnight Foam. Please, go back whence the way you came. It will be safe. These are not lands that ordinarily see much strife."

She leaves, disappearing into the trees, and when the party returns the way they came, they are relieved to find the mirror's way is still open. They walk out, and there's no Gatito to be found. No black cat with mesmerizing eyes. The Lord's out riding, so Ines offers her gratitude.

When asked about the cat, however, Ines looks confused. "What? Milord had a kitten, but it ran away a week ago. He doesn't have a pet currently."

Strange. But she promises to have the mirror taken elsewhere so that no more servants find their deaths in Quelynos--seemingly where you had gone. That is, as far as the Explorers' Guild is concerned, good enough.

-End