Sea of Stones - Pt 1 - 10 (Our Start)

The storm finally started to calm in the early Vornic morning, as the early morning Defenders came out of the town to keep an eye on things. A downed ship just off-shore sent out multiple magical flares in the dead of night, but nobody dared enter the storm to search for survivors until the rains calmed down. Almost as soon as the Zernic soldiers saw the signs of the Galjain ship, they turned back. They didn't care nor want even healthy ship-mates (or worse) coming to their town, and they certainly wouldn't help them get there.

Galjaic adventurers came here for one main cause: treasure! There were plenty of caves filled with rumoured pirate bounty on the sea-shore, but it is the ruined temple of Lagosh that most came for, to search for magical artefacts of the past. The lawful Zern would permit the (would-be) adventurers in town if they didn't cause trouble. But that never lasted long.

For those interested, I would like to run a play-by-post game using mostly Pathfinder rules for anywhere between 3-5 players.

How we play: DM will post, will give everyone one day, then post a response answering questions and leading the story.

This is a game about adventure, challenge and choices. It is NOT a game about dice, players will roll NO DICE to determine outcome.

Classes: Pick from below, all classes can pick ANY skill

Fighter, 6 skills, 3 feats
Priest, 6 skills, 2 feats, 4 spells/level + turn undead
Thief, 12 skills+2 feats
Ranger, 6 skills+track+animal companion
Sorceror 6 skills+2 feats+3 Spells+Spell-Burn
Paladin: 6 skills+2 feats+holy weapon

Races:
Human: Gain Extra Feat
Tenderfoot: (also called Halfling) Bonus to Stealth + Diplomacy
Jahlen (golden horned goat humanoid): Horn attack +Bonus to Climb
Dwarf: full shield+bonuses to poison saves
Mechanoid: (golem) does not eat or breathe, not affected by poison
Ratling: night vision + smell

Who is on shore? If you are interested, send me a response, stating, character name, race & class and what you are doing. Send a follow up email telling me your skills, feats and if appropriate, spells.

GOT GAME.....prove it!
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Slag Mechanoid Rogue

Slag wandered the town slowly and carefully, much like he did anything , his sensors keeping track of things around him and cataloging everything into it's proper place. He was in search of work to be sure, his own upkeep wasn't cheap and his inventions and artwork all took resources, resources he was growing low on. He searched for something well suited to his particular abilities, and even more so anything that might increase his knowledge of machinecraft or his own history. His last memories had led here but ended outside the city gates...everything from there was a blur, lost to him. Why had he been here? what had happened? Why didn't he remember any of it??
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Response 1:

Slag continued to walk deeper into town, carefully observing the people who though not outwardly ignoring him, were trying to keep their distance. There were some of the foot soldiers, but they didn't pay much attention after realizing what he was. And in a flash, he heard a sound, a whistle that summoned him back. He turned around and without thought or impulse walked immediately to the beach. As he did, he saw more of the survivors, approximately two dozen onshore now, some helping their mates, or handling the dead, or  scrounging around for equipment. Slag did nothing to assist any of them, this was not his assignment. "Slag!" someone called out, he walked toward the Quarter-Master Tolish, who held a commanding rod, "Assist with recovery. DO NOT LEAVE THE UNIT!" (What action do you want to take?)?

**
Slag looked at the survivors guaging their worth...they seemed if anything a hindrence to the group..he would begin to salvage what items of value he could find amidst the debris. If there truly was nothing of value there then he would begrudgingly help carry survivors back to the soldiers and whoever he thought most likely to have medical skills.

A cloaked form woke, dazed and confused amongst the chaos.  His good eye coming into focus, his magic felt depleted save for the basics.  Shocked at the large form that approached him, he tried to rise but was pinned down.  Turning to look at what was pinning him down, Orin Ragebearer, was confused but not shocked to find a body slumped over his legs...

Kaily, was watching the ship from a distance when it was going down and made her way the shore line to see if there were any valuables to add to her hidden collection. She went down, ignoring most the survivors, unless they looked wealthy.  It was easy enough to persuade them to accept her help but in reality she was “helping” herself to the contents of their pockets and jewellery.  She knew exactly what will bring in a good price in the right places. She wasn’t too concerned about others that may be doing the same thing or watching out for those like her-self...
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Two human soldiers reached down, to help Orin up to his feet...they saw what he was and backed away. Any non-noble spellcasters were looked down upon, and Orin was far from the upper class of society, or else why would he be here? He came to his feet and saw the effort going on and had no spells that could quickly assist. He went to the nearest officer, Quarter-Master Tolish, who told him to stand-by.

Kaily found little to speak of, soldiers and sailors were the worst to loot, they drank all their money away. Though not dressed for it, she volunteered to be apart of the relief efforts.She quickly found her way standing next to a metal soldier and more humans, all looking ragged.

There were small groups of humans and dwarves helping to bring the injured over to Jadic, the highest level cleric on board the ship who did her best with spells and items to assist as quickly as she could. None of the Minotaurs who ruthlessly kept order on the ship among the "crew" were around; nobody really liked the smelly brutes but they were efficient and loyal which was what the Galjaic navy were always looking for.  Small crews were doing their best to bring provisions on board, on the escape shuttles. The main vessel, their war ship was the most visible item on the horizon, it's damage from lightning was apparent, some sort of magic was keeping it afloat for now...the crew, would do emergency repairs until they could get it to a dock for proper repairs.

Some of the non-aligned citizens from Ervatos, the nearby city, had started to come out to determine what had happened, and many of them began to assist in getting the hurt people into town. Officially the two cities, were among many in the Sea of Stones that were in competion for magic and slaves, unofficially many of the lower castes didn't care about their own Masters and tried to help or connect with each other when they could.

Slag, Orin & Kaily were called over, to help in securing the supply ships, hauling the long chains into shore. It was slow, heavy-going, but they kept a steady pace and in a few hours, helped to lead the shore crews bring four of the ships onto land. It was the last ship, that Slag noticed the carpet was half over the goods, in this case half a dozen of official emblazoned Pernic heavy armor. One of the lesser officers came over almost immediately after to cover up the goods, but said nothing to the mechanoid who kept on doing his duty.

Now there were more than 75 soldiers and others on shore with a makeshift camp. The worst injured were brought into the city, and the others were in the camp.

Seeing their exhaustion, Tolish told them they were relieved until later in the hour. What do you want to do? It is late afternoon.

*
Slag for the most part was quiet and stoic moving through the camp with an eye to details but not necessarily to people, if nothing presented itself as outside of the ordinary he would eventually settle down into a small space to himself and make any necessary repairs both to himself and to his equipment. He was a bit of a tinker in general , constantly at work on some new device or sketching out some new idea. When his self and equipment were in good repair and maintenance he would begin to sketch. His pencil flying across
the paper carefully detailing any ideas of the day so they would not be lost. He knew better than to get attached to any of the people, they were fragile and in ill repair. He had made the mistake of letting himself grow attached to one and would never make it again. People broke down, they stopped functioning and there was no way to fix them. ?

Response 3
Nothing particularly grabbed Slag's attention to the assorted mercs assorted on the beach, a little over half of the original crew, with none of the Minotaurs, the brutes that normally kept everyone in line. Nobody here were True Slaves, they all chose to come to the raiding mission - if it was the same as most of their missions, either the wildly chaotic elves or the savage lizardith.  As he began to outline the group and noticed the dwarves, unlike the humans, were in very tight formations as to where they stationed their tents and fires,  more so than the others. Then he realized their armor and weapons were considerably better then anyone else, not just an individual but the entire group. These weren't mere sell swords,these were true Myrmidons, recognized battle-hardened warriors...why were they here on simple raids?

After awhile they came back to the Quarter-Master who assigned them no actions, so they settled in place getting ready for the evening. There was some commotion, as merchants from the city started to come out, to see if these soldiers, these men-at-arms needed any food or ale. Short, tense conversations was the rule, little politeness between these sets of strangers, yet they both wanted something, so the trade kept on.

Slag sat down and began to outline the area in his drawing, saying nothing and starting to add the incredible layers of detail. After awhile as was his nightly habit, he closed his eyes and began to hum the only song he knew, the song that kept creating him, the one that echoed in his circuits every night, this was his refresh, the only time that he could heal any external damage. Though not asleep, this was one of the few times he was lost in something bigger than himself.  

He rose just before sunrise, and saw a set of officers meeting. A dwarf came over and stood nearby one of the sleeping tents, and as was there customs, began beating the morning drum,getting them awake, fed and started to move out. There were three main groups set up, patrol, transport and night-soldiers. Which group do you want to be assigned to first?

**
Slag ended his reverie refreshed and ready to face a new day. His contemplation of the day before had been how fragile these creatures seemed to be and an attempt to understand how they could be repaired or maintained.  He would keep track of the transactions going on about his general area, keeping an eye on prices and general demand..

He needed nothing from the merchants yet and had made nothing he wished to sell so he barely acknowledged them as once more he patrolled the camp looking for irregularities. He had little other plans or activities. It seemed likely that he would be of most use on the transport side of things using his superior strength and indefatigable endurance to provide a boost to such activities while still being able to double as a guard should the need arise.?

Response 4

There were no lots drawn for assignment, dwarves, humans and the few Minoutaur simply went to their duties. Dwarves, like Slag, went to the trading carts. The Dwarves put away their weapons and armor and began organizing the four carts, packed full of goods. There was virtually no space for the workers or their equipment, but somehow everyone was crammed in. Another two carts were for the soldiers. All six of the carts were pulled by Hederak, monstrously large creatures, a combination of horse and elephant, often used to attack giants. They seemed out place with their heavy fur in the jungle, but were well cared for by their Minotaur handlers.

For the first six hours, nobody said anything to you, other than sit...as the starting caravan passed by the local city, until it stopped at almost a random location, then you were asked to help unload the goods. As always, he did as commanded. They assigned most of the heavy lifting to you at first, you noticed that a few of the other dwarves had the same or greater strength than you, but your expertise at moving the boxes, especially in the wagons, was far more expert, so you were assigned there. That first day of travel there were three brief stops to sell goods, common placed ones that you could find at almost any trading spot. Yet, each time they stopped, customers were waiting to purchase their goods. Many of them came into one specific wagons, and each time left with a weapon in hand.

That first night, the day soldiers retired early, and the night ones came out, as the dwarves settled down. Many of them complaining about the drive, the conditions or their wagons. With no other mechanoid, you
were alone, at least at first. some of them offered you food and ale, but you politely turned them down. You spemd three hours on a superb outline of the camp and the jungle trees in the diminishing light.  One by one the dwarves fell asleep, and you, wishing to copy their pattern did the same, starting to listen to your internal hum. Less than twenty minutes later, you feel a hand agaisnt you. You realize one of the dwarves are trying to open your body cavity up...what do you want to do?

*
Slag would stop humming for the moment a subtle reminder that he was more than a machine. If the Dwarf continued with its actions he would step back one step, his hand moving to close the compartment. His voice loud enough to draw attention if any were close enough by "Was there something you required?" he would ask as always quiet calm and seemingly unflappable. ?

Response 5

The dwarven hand continued to rummage in the half darkness, franticly searching for the switch to open the chest cavity.  Your voice frightened the dwarf who Slag could easily make out the desperate act of running away, the would-be thiefs awkward backwards movement caused him to lose his footing. This had caused several other dwarves to be alerted, many grabbed their near-by weapons to come rushing.

"Dolok...what are you doing?" came one screaming dwarven voice. This was enough for Slag to open his eyes to see four dwarves immediately pounding down on the would-be thief. The whimpering response was not enough, as one of them bashed their comrade, knocking him to the ground once more.

"Golem... thing" the voice roared out, "Has this whipering snake stolen anything from you?"

This was one of the few dwarven names you knew Gnalid D'Kaepen, he was First Hammer on the mission, leader of the crew. "No."

Gnalid thought for a moment as his soldiers kept the would-be thief down. "Dolok, you are confined to the tent, when we get to proper civilization your arms are revoked, and you leave the Company."

"For what?" Dolok yelled, struggling to get up, "I didn't take anything, I was searching for contraband."

'For dishonour...and that's enough." Gnalid yelled, then went into one of the tents a few moments later came out with a pair of chains, throwing it down to his keepers, who quickly locked-up the would-be thief, and took him into one of the carts.

Gnalid came over offering you his hand, "My apologies for the lesser acting as a ...Tharon. We may take the spoils of victory, but we earn it with honour."  Slag knew Tharons, as the true lords of the water, the human empire that controlled everything they touched in the Sea of Stones. This was not their official lands, but they still claimed what they wanted and nobody was strong enough to stop them. "We have two more days until we reach the cavern, you are welcome to enter with us or change units,."

"My name is Slag." you say, and he begins to walk back to his tent...

*
Slag would take the dwarf's hand. It was a strange custom, a gesture of distrust that had evolved into a form of sincerity and greeting "I hold no one responsible for another's actions." he said earnestly, though as usual his words were clipped and measured and it might be difficult to discern his true meaning. "I see no reason to change units".  He would slide back to his place and go back to his reverie, his mind now on ways to ensure the person you were meeting with was not carrying a weapon...a machine to replace the primitive
device of clasping hands and shaking them to see what fell out.?

Orin sat patiently for a while but no tasks were assigned to him so he started to observe the various activities around the area. He noticed a perculior sight. It was some sort of construct but seemed to have its own motives. He followed the construct, who was called Slag. Orin hung back while the events unfolded with the dwarves. He quietly passed Slag and gave him a glance, then nodded. Orin then found an area with less of a crowd and waited for the Golem.?

Response 6

The remainder of the night passed by quickly, as Orin who was assigned to night patrol came to rest near the dwarven camp... he spent a hard night on patrol, with none of the humans and Jahlen saying a word to him, others came in groups, he was alone, and saw that like him the Golem was also mostly alone.

Crajin, Second Hand, came over and started a conversation with the lanky spell-caster just before morning meal.

"You carry no heavy armor, you...cast spells?" You nod.  "Priest or Wizard?

"Innate spells...Sorceror."

"Are you looking for a unit to join?" You nod again.

"You can carry stuff? Heavy stuff?" Again you nod, you know your leviatate spell would make a heavy load seem light and easily maneuverable. He points to a load of boxes, and in a second they were levitating a few feet off the ground. This time it was Crajin's turn to nod. "You'll work with Slag." He calls over the metal-man and introduces you to him, both of you recognize each other from the beach.

"Crajin, I was hired for delving...why are we acting as merchants?"

"We are on Zernic territory, they could stop us or make trouble with the Tharons. We come as merchants, and they let us pass."

"They know?"

Crajin nods, "We come twice a Turn. We have some weapons to sell, not enough to make a profit. But we know there are huge caches of coins in some of these caves. They don't have the ground forces, as they are pounded by the lizardith. Most times they let us take away what we find."

*
"Sounds fine to me, I know sometimes one needs to avoid unnecessary questions... Merchants move more freely. I am up for some treasure seeking. Any trouble we need to know about?". Asks Orin?

Response 7

"Mostly raiders - the lizardith are the worst, strong in number. The fey elves are quarter their number. but we have no quarrel with them, but the Zern have fought wars of intrusion. The zernic magic is far more powerful than the Galjaic, but they are spread out with their forces. That's why...we've come. Stories are told of great evil artifacts hidden beneath the caves. The Galjaic nobles know this is two jobs in one, fighting back the evil beneath and keeping the Zern at bay, that's why they indirectly hire us."

You hesitate, "You're not Galjaic?" you thought these were members of the aristocracy in Tonnax, their home city, High Galjaic where you and many of the crew come from.

He shakes his head, "We buy our rights, or they pay us to do their dirty work, which keeps the Zerns happy, which likewise keeps the Tharons away."

"You're all just..."

"We all pay the piper." He smiles and nods. It is crazy but that just seems to be the way.

Crajin says, "Tigers, girallons, apes, and snakes...the most common jungle beasties, but anything is possible, and always stay wary of the undead. Remember, bury or burn anything you kill, as that which is not put to rest will always return."

Morning meal quickly morphed into the trail, as the night soldiers traded positions with the day ones, and they headed out. Orin noticed even more soldiers out there, some he wasn't entirely sure were originally on the ship.  He was on a cart with four dwarves, none of them wearing armor, that spent their little free time playing cards for nobles.  He said little, and declined their offer to game...but he did watch enthusiasticly, studying strategy and techniques.

Slag too was in a cramped cart with other dwarves, they spent half their time drinking, half sleeping and a bit of the other time doing chores fixing up some of the product for sale. Again they stopped half a dozen times to quickly get their stock out...weapons, that's all the citizens of this fine island seemed to buy. They were high quality stuff hidden underneath the carts, not exactly illegal but certainly frowned upon.

Near the end of the day, the carts slowed down, but unlike the other times, did not stop, as it crawled past a death post. a gruesome scene as a a dozen lizardith in various stages of decomposure. Members of the military unit posed, besides claimed kills, some even cutting off pieces of scale to claim as trophies. The dwarves scowled disapproval very low, this was crass and looked down upon in their culture, but they knew not to show their feelings too openly. They were waved on, then continued for another hour before making camp.

A tall stony fissure loomed on the horizon, maybe an hour away from camp...a spyglass was shared among the dwarves to get a better look at it.

"Your day duties are completed." Crajin, Second Hand spoke, "Did either of you want to do anything tonight?"

*
Slag had seen the man and his furtive motions and gestures but saw no reason to meet up with him that night and was carried into the day without issue or comment. He mostly just observed, words were something he saved for important circumstances, wasted very seldom. He learned little from conversation but spent much of his time in silent contemplation, his mind always running as the day dragged on, when the night finally closed in he saw no reason to change his usual routine and would spent it as he always had , in sketches and quiet and finally in reverie. ?

Valimare awoke on what appeared to be a gurney by the shore. The drinking part he remembered, up to a point it would seem, but the rest was a rather large question mark.  Didn't matter much anyway, he would carry on and do what he did until orders arrived anyway. It wasn't normal for Valimare to black out from drinking, but it did appear fortuitous to have passed out on shore at the far end of town this particular day. He checked his blades and proceeded to look around.?

Response 9

Had it been five days of cards and drink and other  unmentionable things that he was on that damned cutter? Valimare  was aboard another ship, when they docked with the Galjain one, and he and his counter-part was invited aboard for drinks...and now he was here, in Zern, apparently signed up to do a damned cave dive. The bloody Arjaxs sold his contract to a bunch of Galjaic dwarves. Some dwarf was screaming at him to get into another cart, this one slowly heading away, he climbed aboard to see six dwarves, no armor on
sitting have a sip and a game of cards, smiling, he soon joined them.

He half stumbled out of the dwarven cart he was in at the end of a couple of days, the ale was wet enough at least, and he stayed afloat in coins .Their drinks were cheap, and he made some friends on the two day trip... they were headed to some dead fissure, where scaled beasts had been seen. A lizardith encampment perhaps...they could find some coin or jewelry, they could all be lined up for years. He felt a scratch on his arms, he looked to see a tattoo; by the Abyss he was bonded, he couldn't slip away and find another "job"!

Mostly dwarves here, but a sorceror and a walking golem. Bashint, one of his card buddies, came up to Valimare and slipped him some advice, don't sign up for the first wave. Valimare nodded agreement.

In the morning, First Hammer shouted out, "Dwarves, arm yourself into three waves. We enter the lower caves. Each group will enter a different cave - explore, come out with info. Only engage if it's a foe!"

Valimare, Orin and Slag, along with three dwarves in heavy armour and maces as their primary weapons and an old human female wearing vestments of Quanna, Goddess of Light (LG), she introduces herself as Nara D'Olinna.  "Greetings. I am a healer but prefer to eliminate the threats before they engage. My only request is no inter-party non-sense. If you are a detriment, I will not heal you." Just like every other priest you've seen, she wears a holy symbol necklace, except hers is one to Casna, (LN) god of justice.

Unnare D'Fastano, the lead dwarf also makes introductions...you take orders from him, don't run from battle or refuse an order, those are his only instructions to you.

Questions or heading to the volcano?

*
Valimare nods and smiles, his scarred face forming a slightly comical scene.  He knows better than to question an order, although he studies the Dwarf, wondering what sort of leader he has dealt.  He looks around and wonders if this is the same Golem Bashint said had been "molested", but says nothing wodering what kind of humour golems have instead.  Well met all!  he says, and turns for the volcano.

Slag would simply nod his eyes flickering among those assembled, the rules of the mission seemed little more than common sense to him and would have not needed to be said were it not for the others who were going. He shifted slowly, readied whatever ranged weapon he had been built with and prepared for the descent. 

Response 10

The dwarves organized themslves into a square unit, aproximately twenty feet apart, all carrying their heavy crossbows. They moved into the jungle forest without saying a single word to the rest of their crew, moved bruskly, methodically trying to find a trail and scan for anything dangerous ahead.

Slag was impressed, those metallic bows had punch. His arms cranks held two arrows each, capable of firing one shot a round and then a woefully slow reload time. He was a young machine and his creator was no longer active, there would come a time for an upgrade, or, if he could find someone that could make upgrades to his unit frame. The trees were plentiful, but much smaller, less than forty feet high. The foilage was heavy, broad green and purple leaves near the lowest sections of the tree. Only reddish snakes that clung to the tree trunks and colourful avians could be seen at their pace.

The sorceror Orin could move faster than the dwarves, but decided to stay in the rear. He felt a magical connection here, much stronger than he thought possible outside of a city or Spell Tower. If he casted slowly, he believed it would be possible not to lose the mana, the spell energy that powered his spells. He had heard of this happening in heavily concentrated places of mana but never in the Wild. He wanted to follow his innate impulse and run to the library to research the place but he knew that he had to act on impulse alone, and hope that would be enough.

Valimare was impressed by the formation of the dwarves, unless they spoke without using words, they seemed to understand and obey their leader each other by instinct...not always a good thing. He glanced over to see the human cleric a few feet away from him, she floated instead of walked,  and wore armor unlike last night, and she had that glowing smile on her face. The fighter seemed to stop at the same time as the dwarves, a trail. The dwarves immediately changed positions, and motioned for the cleric to come forward, she did and then nodded at them.

Two dwarves continued going forward, another trailed the entire group. Unnare asked for the spellcaster to raise him up so he could have a look. Orin sighed heavily, closed his eyes and began to wave his arms very slowly, whispering arcanish words, a yellowish magical energy seeped from his hands, falling down to the ground then slowly dripped up...the dwarfs eyes bulged and then he was lifted up as the dust fell upward. The energy dissipatated before it reached the ground, but it surrounded the dwarf as he slowly rose. Orin smiled and then showing a confidence not there before opened his eyes,  never stopping waving his arms or keeping his chant alive. "Aye! On the way, the trail will lead us there!"

After returning to the ground the dwarf leader says to the rest of the group, "Some of you are faster than us Stone-Brothers. Better to stay together, but did you want to go ahead of the group or stay behind?"

New Setting Overview - Sea of Stones

Sea of Stones

You are all near the low rung of human society. Nobles buy magical education for a valued guild position: they make sure nobody revolts with their network of spies, magic and their pets - green tyrants, generally known as Dragons to everyone else. 

It's a hot, jungle environment, think of the Greek Isles as the epitome of civilization, at least to the aristocracy that rules. To the south is huge dangerous desert, to the north, the Never-Ending Winter rages.

Humans are top of the heap, and they keep other races as around as long as they don't have magical powers, and at the elite position are the Tharons who fight more among each other then any one else. 

Minotaurs are the brute body-guards, dwarves are the technical ones guarding and maintaining specific sites or duties, tenderfeet (or halflings) are house-slaves, ratlings are sewer city folk that are barely tolerated. 

Elves and the fey are the most hated enemy because they are paragons of purity, goodness and have discovered secrets that still elude the Tharons. Lizard-men, usually called Lizardith can be either very intelligent with huge cities, that are as complex as any other culture or horribly savage. 

Cities are a hotbed of intrigue, as all the groups and many hidden ones fight for intrigue or favor. The Wild is a place of danger, as dungeons hide secrets better left unfound, but there is always the hope of discovering something to help tip the balance...this is where we begin.

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I am re-using one of my oldest settings for my updated group. The last on-site group had to bow out because of changes, but many have opted for this online game. We post almost everyday, but we are still getting the bugs out of the system.

Restoration Domain

Domain spells is an feat option I give sorcerers in my world. They gain additional spell options by adding all spells in the domain to the caster's listing.

One of the most popular options for NPC sorcerers is the healing or restoration domain, so they don't have to rely on the loud-mouthed, preachier-than-thou overbearing clerics. This spell is less powerful than the clerical option, but it has the capacity of affecting undead creatures and constructs. One drawback is that because these spells interact with the positive energy plane, there is a small chance of overload, possibly harming the spellcaster.

Restoration Domain

1st Level: Positive Energy Surge, Lesser

2nd Level: Positive Energy Surge, Minor

3rd Level: Positive Energy Surge, Medium

4th Level: Positive Energy Surge, Critical

5th Level: Positive Energy Surge, Directed

6th Level; Positive Energy Surge, Vital

7th Level: Positive Energy Surge, True

8th Level: Positive Energy Surge, Absolute

9th Level: Positive Energy Vortex

Restoration domain gives sorcerers the ability to either heal living creatures or damage undead creatures or those from a negative plane of existence. These spells unlike the clerical spells affect constructs. Another difference, sorcerers must make saving throws or be temporarily affected by these energies by reducing their constitution scores. They heal drained constitution automatically 1 point per hour, or 2 an hour if they are resting or sleeping.

This directed energy always appear to be a blue energy blast.

Positive Energy Surge, Lesser

0 level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 1d3 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack, restore 1 dmg on mortal creatures. This spell also repairs damage on constructs. Undead do not get a saving throw, but they do get SR.

Positive Energy Surge, Minor

1st level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 1d10 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack, it restores 1d6+1 dmg on mortal creatures or constructs. If caster fails saving throw they take 1 temp con dmg, the save is a Fort DC 11. Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Surge, Medium

2nd level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 2d10 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack, it restores 2d6+2 dmg on mortal creatures or constructs. Caster takes 2 temp constitution dmg unless they make a Fort DC 13 save. Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Surge, Serious

3rd level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 3d10 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack, it restores 3d6+9 dmg on mortal creatures or constructs. Caster takes 1 voluntary constitution dmg, or 3 temp constitution dmg if they fail a save Fort DC 15. Otherwise as PESL. 

Positive Energy Surge, Critical:

4th level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 4d10 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack, it restores 4d6+16 dmg on mortal creatures or constructs. Caster takes 1 voluntary constitution dmg, or 4 temp constitution dmg if they fail their save (Fort Resist: DC 16) Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Surge, Directed

5th level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 3d10 dmg on all undead within a 20 ft radius, or it restores 3d6+9 dmg on all mortal creatures or constructs in the same radius. Caster takes 2 voluntary constiution damage, no save. Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Surge, Vital

6th level Spell

Range: Touch

Inflict 6d10 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack or it restores 5d6+25 dmg on mortal creatures. Caster takes 2 voluntary constitution dmg, or 5 temp constitution dmg if they fail their save (Fort Resist: DC 18). Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Surge, True

7th level Spell

Inflict 5d10 dmg on all undead within a 50 ft radius; or it restores 5d6+25 dmg on mortal creatures or constructs within the same radius. Caster takes 3 voluntary constitution dmg. Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Surge, Absolute

8th level Spell

Inflict 12d10 dmg on undead if you are successful with a touch attack or restore 100 hit points on mortal creatures or constructs. Caster takes 2 voluntary constitution dmg, or 5 temp constitution dmg if they fail their save (Fort Resist: DC 20). Otherwise as PESL.

Positive Energy Vortex

9th level Spell

Duration: 1 round / 3 levels 

Creates a vortex of positive energy, inflicting 5d10 dmg on undead every round for creatures in a 200 foot range. Unlike other versions of this spell. Living creatures in area of effect must make a saving throw (DC 20) or take 3d10 damage, as the energy overwhelms their physical bodies. Caster takes 6 voluntary constitution dmg, or 10 temp constitution dmg if they fail their save (Fort Resist: DC 23) Otherwise as PESL.

Purple Owl (Favoured Creature of Lawful Forces)

Sometimes the creatures I like the most are small, weak but well-fitted to their environment. The Watcher or Purple Owl I think fits as in magical communities and acts as an ally and sometimes guide to lawful forces. This is one of a bunch of Purple-skinned creatures that can give small assistance and because of their colour smart players have an immediate inkling as to what is happening and why.


Watcher (Purple Owl)

HD:         2d8 (9 hp)
Init         +3
Speed 10 ft Fly 50 (Avg)
AC        20 (+2 size, +3 dex +5 natural)
Attack: +6 Talons (1d4)
Saves Fort +2, Ref +5, Will +2
Abilities: Str 6, Dex 17, Con 10, Int 8, Wis 18, Cha 14
Skills: Perception +21, Survival +15,  Knowledge (local) +8
Feats Alertness,  Weapon Finesse
SA         Hooting Prayer
Climate Usually Urban
Organization Solitary, Pair, or Family (7-12)
Alignment         Lawful Neutral (25% are Neutral Good)
Challenge Rating: 1
Advancement: 3-6 HD (Small)

Appears as a normal owl except they have purple feathers and keen eyesight that seems to be constantly watching everyone around them. They are the blessed creatures of  Casna and are often sent to help the faithful in their missions to advance the cause of law.

Combat: Watchers are almost always accompaning followers of Casna and as such rarely have to face threats alone. They work to battle chaos wherever they can usually by giving warning. Though faithful, they are smart enough to flee in order to spread  knowledge of a shared threat.

Abilities
Detect Chaos (Constant) 50 ft
Fast Healing (1 hp / round in non-chaotic bound locations)
Immunity to poison, magical charms, and compulsions
Hooting Prayer: Once a day their hooting acts as a prayer effect to all lawful aligned creatures within a 60 ft radius, (equivalent to a prayer spell)

Pyramid Passageways

The group continues heading down the stairs, lanterns lighting up on the side, always 100 feet ahead of them and the same behind. Cautious they keep to their tight formation, they eventually are more than three thousand feet in to the tunnels, far farther then they were expecting to go, when they reach a dark point, nothing to be seen. They cautiously halt, unsure of their next steps. Maza uses her spells to see a cloak figure aiming a bow towards them hidden in the darkness. The group calls out to the stranger who replies in the jackalla tongue, warning them to stay away, this is not their bounty. Arlel knows jackalla, a lawful guardian race often dedicated to city crypts; she understands this is not their enemy, nor is this, their quest, she tells everyone they have gone the wrong way. Not wanting to face a lawful figure who should be an ally, they head back, and it takes them just a few moments to return to the stairs, realizing there was a magical binding in the tunnels.

As they emerge out of the stairwell, they focus on the the Evil Pyramid entrance, Hervandos is able to avoid the traps by remaining perfectly calm. He fails, utterly, in opening the locks, so the halfling rogue comes over. But she fails her saving throw on the poison, she vomits, turns green and falls down, convulsing in pain. She is in tremendous pain but so disoriented, she is unable to do much more than shiver. The ranger and psion drag her far enough away, as the ranger heals her Tenderfoot sister, giving her another chance and the rogue passes her check, and is given help from the ranger once again.

The entire group hesitates: the entryway of the good aligned pyramid causes other problems, and as much as they dislike having to face the poison, that seems like a lesser problem then the induced ecstacy and loss of complete control. They need to find a way around, to go deeper into the evil pyramid where they believe their sarcophagus should be.

The soldiers herald something coming through the doors, as they turn to face a dozen or more of sand mephits, small rocky creatures with multiple sharp fangs, claws and bony appendages. The paladin and cleric face them front face, as the psion attempts to put up an energy wall. The ranger and rogue squirm around looking for a spot to strike. The creatures surround the cleric, cutting and clawing her, but not doing serious damage, at least not yet. They see at least another eight approaching. Finally the psion launches the energy wall, creating the barrier they need for defense. The others knock down the only two still inside the wall. The psion closes the large front doors and the soldiers seal them up with spikes.

In catching their breath, the group is left with what to do once again.

One of the lesser soldiers, wonders how they got through other traps, which gets the group thinking about what they could be missing. The rogue suddenly realizes in their haste to explore the passageways SHE didn’t search around, and when she does she eventually finds a false panel…opens it up, containing two levers, pulling them closes the obvious traps on the two other entranceways, it leaves the Pyramid of Darkness open and a heavy metal gate blocking entry to the Pyramid of Light. Now they are refocused again.

Going down the stairs they head back into another passageway, this one is wider than the one far below, none of the walls are decorated, or having hieroglyphics as they would have expected in a place like this. The bard tells the group the place is perfectly acoustic, sounds travel, far better than one would expect. Again, just as before, the lanterns are synchronized, coming on one after the other. Soon they start to hear a painful moaning, that reveals an inhuman voice in incredible torment, they see a hole in the side of the wall.

Looking in, they see a sight none ever expected to see, a chained Efreet, in horrible physical shape; the paladin detects an other-world evil. Everyone is a bit in awe, these creatures of pure fire were thought not able to come to the prime world of nyssa. No begging or screaming..it speaks in its own tongue, asking to be freed, though only the Phaetox understands it, as Galdahad shares the language of flame with it. When its polite requests fails to convince them, it returns to its riotous cacophony, begging to be let out.

As they are about to walk off, when another being, covered in chains come out to tempt the paladin into battle. The bard tells the group this is an Kyton, an evil race not devils but similar. they often work for mortal creatures, torturing is often their primary task. It’s evil tempting words crush the paladin, promising an epic battle. Their group's focus is too strong, the paladin, who shows composure and decides it best to leave, leaving the jailer in his cell with the prisoner. As they continue on, the hole in the wall is gone or at least no longer visible. 

The group wonders how many more of these pyramid walls are holding something, are they all prisons?

They continue down, and see the cross-way turns, one direction turns into a short passageway to the right, a heavily armoured Ox Demon guarding a very elaborate door. While horribly named, they have run into these paragons of lawful order, unwilling to deviate from orders, certainly not something they have an active dislike of. In the other, a set of stairs heading down on a sharp angle.

Having no other way, they head down the passageway, when they see a small red flash dart across the passageway; Arlel summons a celestial blast, scorching an unnatural red rat that had fled from them but was still seeking to watch. Moments later they hear from a bellowing from below the stones, something in anger and mourning loss. Galdahad calls out to comfort it, but the red liquid beast roars out even louder, they see a long red snake-like entity, hungry but fearful. Not something that would strike out with treachery but of hunger, it seethes with anger, but goes back into the stone.

They look at each other and once more head down the stairs…

Old WotC Monster Books

Was looking for another gaming book, and found the M.M. V book in a box ...wow, forgot how much I loved / loathed it. I mean the entries are two pages to a monster is pushing it, and they stretch some of the monster variants out. They do have some nice beasties in this one though: Arcadian Avenger, Adaru, Remmanon, Illurien, & Force Golem to name a few. (Won't go into some of the others.)

I cherish these monster books, so many great ideas and the pics, are so fun to make your brain just explode with energy and fear!

Now I have to update some of my monster listing for the regions again...

Game Summary Write-Up (Aug 13)

The group waits a few more days for their compatriots, as they hope will find their way back to town. At the same they realize many other adventuring teams are returning into the spire; some large contingents, with powerful steeds or walking golem-horses. They all seem to find a home for a few days, some of the smallest in an alleyway, hotel or tavern. Large military units, many with hundreds of volunteers that spend most of their days on the back roads, set up camps just outside the town.

Each of the units seem to designate a few of their members to go to the Fountain, some to sing or make a silent prayer or just stand in honoring someone who once walked. These units, drop something, coins, alcohol or other momento to represent something to their units. If you were to watch here just that early morning, one would be tricked that the offerings would drown the water even if for a few seconds. The water subsides and as it does the piles of coins sink low, so too with the men, as they did what they must and moved on.

Most of the party watches the goings on. None realized the mass of travelers and professional warriors that would be here...the sleepy spire town wasn't just alone here in the desert, though it felt like it earlier on in the week. Each party member did as they always did; the psionicist in meditation, the rogue skulking to watch over her party, the paladin with an eye on the fountain and speaking with youth, Galdahad in flight among her avian kin, Maza the Halfling ranger with a small group of city beasts and Arun, retreated to the Sphinx library, with another burning research subject in his mind.

Arlel with her small contingent made the first steps back in to town long before she had originally planned, hoping that her friends truly did make it here. The sight of the Phaetox flying high in the marketplace was a relief, she was always the first and easiest to spot. They connect, and bring together the rest of the team. Dassadar walks slowly over, making no attempt to hide his detect evil casting on Arlel and the rest of her group, and finding no hint of malice. The young cleric certainly recognizes his actions but says nothing, as a swarm of introductions to old and new comrades commence.

One of Arlel's newest allies is the tall, high pitched voiced, incredibly well dressed figure with an effusively charismatic personality, carrying many musical instruments at his beck and even more surprisingly an actual halo on his shining round his angelic head. Zelos tells them they have much to discuss, not just in one mission but one of their colleagues, Arun who is cursed or quite possibly his primary bond is not what it seems to be.

They go straightaway to Arlel's apartment to lay down the known details. They are all a little surprised, the rooms are clean, except for her two mirrors, completely splinterered. Unsure of what this means, they search the rooms and area before they continue sharing information.

Arlel elaborates on what she found not just in the library but in the streets and taverns, legends of powerful items hidden in the pyramids. The local tales speak in particular of an elaborate sarcopogus built for a Raja, able to rebuild & restore both people and objects, if they are adored. Her research shows its most likely resting spot, undisturbed because each team was unclear on its final location. She believes this group, is strong enough to return this artifact to civilization. The fountain portal will lead them there, but the gateway she opened will only last another six hours or they need to find another way back to the pyramid.

So too, Zelos bears legends, but not of an item lost in the sands, but of grief. A genie or otherworldly demon he believes was inadvertently summoned and leaving a wake of destruction. He explains that while Arun summons the memory of a warrior it is another being that is coming through, and he is not the only one who reaches into the midst. Others, far nefarious, are using Gorth for their own darker purposes, and theirs is a trail of blood, murder of heroes in their sleep or younglings in their home, he didn't meet their kin, he didn't need to. The story is the one that Zelos is determined to stop.

The group wonders if it is Gorth which was why their teleport did not enable them to go to the Duo-Diyalla Pyramid. Dassadar expresses some incredulity at Zelos's story, but Zelos begins telling a story of his incredible exploits, the team loses the effort to argue with him. Convincing them but at the same time Zelos believes he best not try their patience or trust too often; Dassadar especially (DM's hint: spells or other tricks on other party members work in moderation, at a certain point PCs will gain immunity.)

They concoct a loose plan of trying to get their friend to summon his servant though not capturing him in a way that could limit him until they determine how exactly they can fully deal with him. Wanting to meet Arun outside of town, they call him, but the scholars in the library reveal he is no longer around. The group does a search they find no sign, and nobody remember where he exactly went to. They find the old lore books he was studying, stories told of great past rogues and scoundrels who went on both desert and Sea of Stones quests. The last book he was reading, left open to the picture of "Raibasghi" a well known desert scoundrel long renowned for coming back from the desert wastes with treasure and magical trinkets; this was one of Arlel's heroes she was delving into. The party wonders if Arun left to go hunting, or, if somehow Gorth was able to take control. They rush out out to look for their ally.

Using his mind-scanning, Hervandos is able to track down Arun, finding him in a tavern, surrounded by dangerous looking rogues. He decides not to reveal their preys location to his comrades as he doesn't want them to be sidetracked as they came to the desert to complete the mission and prefers not to lose the quick way to the pyramids.

Realizing their wasted efforts, the heroes refocus on their original mission, scoping the dungeon & retrieving the sarcopogus. Zelos is torn though, committed to both completing this task and of stopping the killer Gorth, he wonders if he is doing the best thing.

At the fountain, Arlel speaks her command word and they step into the water, then through... into a huge stone room, high ceilings, and the first site of Arlel's volunteers struggling to close an outside door where a huge sandstorm rages. Each steps out into this large rectory, the fountain they emerge from though grandiose in size is far from its peak, as it has seen deterioration and even worse, barely a trickle of water inside the grand central fountain.

As Fesselin the rogue and Maza the druid step past each is given a momentary flash, Fessy works up a defense, as she tries to concentrate in her home and many positive thoughts. Maza fails and is shocked by memories but not her own, of an eerily positive flashes of many people here in this building in another era. The haunting images cascade imaged laughing, playing in the midst of a bygone era when humans, dwarves, Tenders and even elves are in this same place, filled with water, pets,and plants. Lasting a few seconds, Maza regains control of herself...she shares with the rest of the party, unsure of what really happened. Arlel admits none of her soldiers experienced this previously but again this was two Tenderfeet, she wonders if this could be a specific trap.

The group sees the many small statues and frescoes littered in the upper sections of the room, mementos of religious and standard pilgrims. They could tell it was once an eight door church rectory, but now only the main twenty foot tall master-door was in use. A domed roof shows a wondrous scene of angels, devils and aqua dragons flying in a cloudy sky, other details less conspicuous are lost in the dust from far below on the vantage point on the ground.

A kilometer each way, two opposing pyramid complexes reign tall, one to the left the Pyramid of Darkness; Pyramid of Righteousness to the right, Arlel's team discovered with the help of Zelos, three hidden passageways hidden under the sands. Two reach out in the direction of the Pyramids and the last one opposite the entrance doorway. Over the last five days they excavated, and found the entranceways riddled with writings that warn of unauthorized entry and curses for theft. The dark pyramid entrance brings shudders of cold, pain & misery; the one of righteousness brings happy near bucolic thoughts even to the point of mindless euphoria, both are avoided by the soldiers.

They light their torches, choose lots and enter the passageway...

Leaf-Kin, Children of the Forest (Playable Race)

I have long loved to run adventures in the forest, where players defeat hidden enemies or overcome threats. This race was a way to add to these scenarios, I have been using the Leaf-Kin as something always present in druidic groves, but never actually getting involved, as they were too small, too weak and too playful. Eventually when running a session, the druids were in desperate state, and higher level leaf-kin got involved, much to everyone's (including my one) surprise. Have been working on these ever since.

One of the biggest questions that I wrestled with is should these be playable as druids; while it does fit, that's much the problem. I want these to be a strong ally or companion to druids, not an over powerful example.

Like all of my racial classes, you generally need to complete their full racial levels until you take another non-racial class.

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Leaf Kin

CR 2 N Humanoid

Init +0; Perception +2

Leaf-Kin are children of the forest, mobile plant-like beings that seek to find a balance between the needs of animals, intelligent creatures and the plants in the forest. They are often seen as something pet-like, playful or even innocently child-like, and while true, it is not their side. As they age and gain in wisdom and power, they are more likely to get directly involved when something threatens their kin, their allies or their territory. They resemble halfling humanoids, with brown wood-like skin, branches for hair ending in small leaves that change colour by season. They grow as they age, from small saplings, to large mature oaklings.

DEFENSE

AC 12, touch 10, flat-footed 12 (+2 natural AC)

hp 11 (2d8+4)

Fort +3, Ref +1, Will +1

OFFENSE

Speed 30 ft.

Melee Wooden Short sword +2 (1d6)

TACTICS

Leaf-Kin are quiet, reclusive people that attempt to watch foes, make allies with common cause and wait for an ideal time to strike. At lower levels they often provide aid, but higher level individuals can literally make a entire forest come alive to defeat a common foe.

Morale 11 (Skittish, they are easy to break ranks and run for cover)

STATISTICS

Str 8, Dex 10, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 11

Base Atk +1; CMB +1 CMD 13

Feats Skills Perception +4, Craft (Wooden Armor or Weapons) +2, Acrobatics +2, Survival +4

Languages Faerie, Elven, Common

SQ Absorb 1 Poison

By Racial Levels

Photosynthesis (Regenerate 1 hp / hour in bright sunlight)

+2 Con, +2 Wis, - 2 Dex 

+2 to survival, +2 to Perception, +2 Craft Wooden Armor and Weapons

+2 natural AC

Both plant & humanoid features

Plantspeak (Speak 1 / HD + Wis or Cha bonus for five rounds)

Absorb 1 poison / two HD or levels (survival check vs DC to extract), 

Small Sized

3 HD Entangle (1 / HD), Invisibility to Animals at will, Immune to Polymorph (change back to leaf-kin after one hour if they have failed a saving)

4 HD Barkskin (1 / HD), Thorne skin (+1d6 dmg if touched or grappled); +2 to any 2 abilities

5 HD Speak with Animals, Invisible to Magical Animals (at will); Grow to Medium Sized

6 HD Secrete Poisons (Sleep, Attract, Drain, DC 10 + Survival), Goodberry or Plant Growth (2/HD)

7 HD Command Plant, +2 to any 2 abilities; Gain 1 Feat;

8 HD Wall of Thorns, Wood Immunity; SR: 8 +1 / HD or level gained

9 HD Animate Plant; Secrete Greater Poisons (DC15+level)

10 HD +2 to any 2 abilities ; Gain 1 Feat; Gain +4 natural AC, Grow to Large Size (3/day, lasts for up to one hour each time or until dismissed)

11 HD Change to True Plant; Regenerate 1 +con bonus hp / rnd in sunlight

12 HD Tree Walk & Commune with Nature (1 mile max; 1 / day)

+1 HD or Level: Gain +1 on SR by HD or level

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Gain attack bonus, saving throws as a cleric by level.

Skills: craft wooden weapons or armor, diplomacy, disable device (+4 if device is made with wood), escape artist, heal, knowledge (nature, geography, religion), perception,sense motive, stealth, survival

Secrete Lesser Poisons: (Sleep, Attract, Drain) DC 10 + Survival Bonus; use this once per day per two levels

Secrete Greater Poison: Immobilize, turn metal to wood, change to animal (DC 15 + level); use this once per day per three levels 

Preferred Class: Ranger, Rogue Bard, or Sorcerer

Banned Class: Druid, Cleric  

Non-Gaming Session - In the Desert Town

Non-Game Details. Had to cancel the last session at the last moment as my wife wasn't feeling the best. This is my way of continuing the story and giving the players some more information. In some ways, much easier to do this now, then in the catacombs.

The old black mystic smiled as he welcomed her into his hut preparing tea for both, this place felt even less spiritual inside than on the outside, yet she felt blessed for being asked inside. “You saw her?” Galdahad asked taking her first sip of the hot berry tea.

Varchan nodded, “She was here several times, in a manner very similar to yours. She wandered here, and whether she received respite or guidance she didn’t reveal, that’s not important.”

”Not important?" the Phaetox asks loudly then tries to deliberately lower her voice, this hut doesn’t seem to be a practical spot for loud discussion, nor Varchan someone deserving of it.

He shook his head and smiled, and somehow that was enough to cool her down. “Her coming here was her own, just as yours is. If she was comforted, she did not say, but that is the past, you are here now.”

“If you could share, it could help us find her it would be…incredibly helpful…”

Again he shakes his head, “That’s not how this works, I am a running stream, thoughts go through where I am, I may sip, but mine is not to imbibe. Tomorrow or next week I may not remember the textured details of this conversation, all that I will remember, is you.”

One of the images he used, remarkable for a Spire dweller, “Running stream?”

Varchan holds out his hand and waves it horizontally, then flowed it, to stop holding upright, “Young lady, all Phastian born, rear and die in the desert, it’s not my fate. This is my other life. I was not born to this. Priest, servant to the Holy Sand, with hundreds of soldiers and thousands of handmaidens…” Galdahad looks at him taking a deep drink, “This was my second death, and I needed a place to be, and this place needed, well, someone. We all dream here, I help to reveal the message…”

“We need for you to try to remember some details about Arlel…” (5 questions to pose to Varchan before the next game)

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On her second night in the small town, Fesselin quickly realizes she doesn’t like it here, it was a quaint little burg, but there was little for her to do. There were taverns, serving drinks but she was never comfortable around big folks, except for her own coterie. These folks as welcoming as they were, would always be big folk, strange ones at that. Most of these people are stuck with their heads in the spires, unconcerned about politics or neighbors, it may be safer but they were always inwardly concerned.

Making her way to the back alleyways, she took it all in, the wide open spaces, the buildings the animals…and suddenly she saw two of her kind, Tenderfeet approaching her. They looked at her and smiled, a hand out to greet her, “Trasolin” the older woman said, and pointing to a younger man in combat leathers, “Rasak.” Fessy introduced herself. “There are others?” Trasolin nods, “We keep ourselves hidden, until we can determine who the stranger in our midst is." She takes a swig from a jug, then hands it to Fesselin who does the same.

“We are tree-ing; care to bob along?” Unsure of what it means but happy to be among kin, she agrees. They come to a fairly large house and climb up, revealing a building whose lower floor is false, as the building covers a hole hundreds of feet deep, and a huge vine plant inside, being carefully pruned and picked by a small group of tenderfeet, plus small sized lizardith and similar sized humanoid frogs. Her newfound companions are waved in, Fessy notices her legs and arms are starting to grow slow and heavy. Almost sensing what Fesselin is about to say, Trasolin nods, “The poison will almost be in full effect.”

Fessy grabs her weapons, while the other two Tenderfeet take a step back. “Don’t worry, we won’t hurt you or steal your equipment…we need to find out about you and your friends, and we have no time for games.”

Despite her protests, they wait for the poison to take control of her, then sit her down in the Greenhouse. With spells, they ask her questions about her group, their intent and some of their history; their questions are careful not to reveal personal or tactical data, but certainly she reveals why they are in the town. In the space of twenty minutes, they are finished, then put a cloth over her head. She wakes up in a small pub, empty glasses around her smelling badly of ale. Her equipment and wealth still with her, plus a basket of exquisitely tasting blue and yellow fruit.

She heads back to the big house, and sure enough. a small group of workers still prune it, but her two comrades are nowhere to be seen.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One of the few benefits of being imprisoned for over nine months was the insistence of quiet meditation. Most of the other prisoners took the time to cause any disturbance to force the guards to use noise or force to end the meditation exercises. As a Thellan, Hervandos had memories of many encouraged sessions, but this was different and quite powerful, as it to brought him back “home”, to refocus in his psionic gifts and foster their growth. It was ironic beyond belief that it were these near ignorant Wastelanders would be the one to help him with this.

Even since before his release, he made an effort to daily meditate on his focus. Normally coming to a new town would be difficult, but spread throughout the village were buffers, psionic tools to disperse hindrances. While not tremendously obvious, there were other psions here. Instead of a difficulty, it was almost a continious state, able to slip into focus at-will. On the third night there, he entered a full dream state, able to travel in purely mental form in a way similar to a physical body.

On the first night, he saw others like himself here. He slowly approached but as he does, a hound with tentacles unlike he’s ever seen notices him and started braying… frightened he removes himself, immediately coming out of his purely mental state, and finds himself back in his hotel room in a lotus concentration position.

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Arun on this night like all the others had spent much of the time in concentration; this town like many others was never his goal. His magic or his familiar allies had always been his prime concern, but now something was wrong with Gorth, his primary bond. It had been many years since he found the entity and he had come to rely on him, for his brute power force, in a fight, his was the muscle that he came back to…now there was something that felt wrong. Many previous times even when not calling for him into the midst, the between, his presence was noted, just waiting, eager to be released. But that eagerness was gone. He no longer lurked, never hungry. He came and served out of obedience but the Summoner wondered if this would always be the case. He heard of other familiar and summoned servants who refused to come or even worse, turned on their master. His bond had always been strong, that he never worried before, now was very different.

Slipping into his concentration, then into the chainless lair in the midst of his void, he remained perfectly calm, silent as memory. For the first time, in too many years, he didn’t come to bond, or seek out a new servant-ally, but to carefully watch his bonded ally. This time, he wanted to see if his ally would come to him. Just as he feared his bond, his ally was not here. He didn’t call out, not this time…this creature was still an ally, if he called and the creature didn’t come, then what. Could he put the bonded ally on the spot?

He exited the midst, and sat motionless for awhile, then left his room. He went well to a quiet alleyway and mulled over calling his companion…

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The trip to the Spire-Edge had shown him little, perhaps most of all other defined the space they were in and what was around them. The nearest pyramids were probably around 25 to 30 days, on foot if they were not intercepted or attacked by the Raja’s forces, especially the undead ones. If this was where Arlel was, he and his companions would go find her.

As he headed into town the sounds of two young boys struggling with a beast, verging off from one
of the the larger side streets. Dassadar headed in, as he saw two Phastian teenagers struggling to get a winged horse, into a stable. Without hesitation, he jumped the fence and held up his hand. Both the kids and Pegasi seemed surprised, as he calmly came towards them, he held out up a hand speaking. The Phastian tattoo was controlling the words coming out of his mouth, as he soothed the well groomed beast.

The side door flew open, as a middle aged Phastian Lady with two much younger children, younger than the lads working the winged steed. Their presence startled the steed, as it bucked, without thinking, Dassadar jumped on it and started giving it much harsher commands, the mother kept the two little girls away, as the two young teen boys tried to grabs the ropes. Their full teamwork was enough to allow Dassadar to capture the Pegasi, and hold him still enough for the creature to calm down.

The little girls had stopped screaming, and the boys puffed out their chests, as they lead the creature into the stable. The attractive woman whispered orders to the young girls, who slunk into the doorway. The lads came out to thank him, but he stood at attention, the same as he was taught when he was living in the North. It hit him that their customs were not the same, the boys came out and stood at attention with their hands crossed with their heads down.

“Thank you for helping with the steed.” She smiled with a controlled demurred look, “My boys needed to clean the stable…” She hesitated as her two young girls reappeared with a pitcher and glasses. “My girls would like to invite you in for a glass of water, as a way to thank you…” The kind mother smiled as her children were very excited to have him come inside.

“Doing a good deed is my reward.” He hesitates for a moment and reconsiders everything going on here. No ill intent, the children are happy to see a stranger, “Your husband is returning soon?”

“Two days, most likely, on Fountain Day.”

Dassadar looked at both the excited girls and the proud young boys, and couldn’t help but smiling himself, “Happy to join you for water…”

Nyssa Game Summary Write-Up (July 16th)

Deserted 

Plans secured for weeks, many of them with newly purchased items or enchanted ones, the group held itself tight. It had been too long since they worked together “in formation” as the paladin Dassadar referred to the group and somehow felt very comfortable. He had selected six volunteer journeyman soldiers carefully, knowing going into a new environment would present unique challenges for them. Yet none of them had connections so if they were lost in battle it would not cost him politically.

Galdahad flew down for the last time, it was always hard to say goodbye to people she knew here, both humanoid and avian alike, yet each time she traveled she learned more. She knew she wasn't ready for her birthright challenge, thus she continued on, preparing for her destiny.

Arun had long since prepared, having a bit more experience in arid lands than the others, yet this was the legendary Phastian Desert, part of the original Empire that ruled the land, secrets to be discovered and potentially more evil to be vanquished. His colleague, his brother-in-arms, of sorts, waited to be summoned out, to do good works in service to his colleague and companion.

The Tenderfoot (Halfling) rogue, like Arun had prepared for coming here but by speaking to her contacts, learning about the pyramid traps and the denizens inside. She had long hoped to get a chance to explore the ruins and other locales as much as she wanted to see an old friend. She knew her own kind were there in smaller numbers, and she had heard terrible rumors of dark servitude to undead lords.

Lastly, the psion Hervandos sat in quiet meditation, sometimes he wondered why he even went on with this group, but knowing he had nowhere else to go and the group sometimes did provide entertainment was justification enough. Knowledge or enlightenment the aim when he was younger, now it just seemed to be finding contentment of any sort, even if ever so briefly.

They waited just a few minutes longer until the prearranged time, as they saw the effect, the obelisk starts to glow its mystical colours, then they stepped thru. As they come out they find themselves immediately wet, in a public fountain, and alone as their old comrade is nowhere to be seen. Arun uses simple magiks to dry themselves off, then they realize the predicament they are in, stranded in a town, without a guide nor any apparent caster able to help send them home.

They are not exactly alone, as their mini spectacle was enough to cause the local folk, Phastian humans, to stop and watch them for a moment or two. The groups beseech for help, but their words fail as they share no tongue. Using his spells, Arun quickly learns enough of their language to communicate. They have arrived in the town of Gortauncho, south offers the Sea of Stones in the Phastian Desert. This Fountain, is the local equivalent of an obelisk, the center of clerical magic. While not immediately familiar, some of the townsfolk recognize the description of the group's wayward colleague, the cleric Arlel. Eventually they find a citizen who reveals where she stays. They hire a guide, and start to learn about the town.

Fesselin is propositioned by a well-dressed tenderfoot, but she turns him down. Hervandos is warned in mind-speak that they are here illegally but categorically confirms they have paid entry fees: he doesn't know if his bluff works but the questioning ends. Galdahad speaks to several avian comrades, they tell her about the wind routes to the sea but know nothing about her land friend.

Proceeding to Arlels house, there is no response to their knocking, so the group heads to the law enforcement. Situated nearly out of town, going towards the largest stone object and building, as they approach they realize it is beneath a huge statue of a winged lion, a sphinx, more than 300 ft at the base with doors to underground caverns of some kind.

The local forces recognize Dassadar's insignia, and show respect to the paladin and his colleagues. They wear badges of faith to a Goddess of Light, they swear by Zalia, that the group believes is the same as the goddess Quanna in the North. The soldiers reveal little more than what the team has already discerned, at least as it relates to their missing comrade...they knew the young woman by reputation only, she had few acquaintances, caused no trouble, no one for them to be concerned with. When discussing their next options, they decide their next step should be to examine her home, and the desert folk give them permission to enter her home but not to take anything.

As they speak with the authorities, Galdahad notices one of the men particularly enamored by her, she begins a conversation with him. A little embarrassed, he reveals a fascination, her skin colour is like nothing he had seen before. Even for the Sea folk to the North of them, her pale skin is so much whiter than any of her comrades, Galdahad admits she is not human but a Phaetox, then opens her flame wings. The soldiers of law, kneel in bewilderment...they had not known of her kind before. She is a little shocked, she thought everyone had heard of Phaetox, at least in the North they had.

Heading back to Arlel's house, the halfling determines the lock, opens it and the door...right away three shades suddenly appear, the finder rolls back taking shelter behind the Phaetox, as Arun summons three celestial archons, heavenly balls of light to intercede. A quick battle forces the shades to retreat into the walls. Seconds later, Arun is hit by a powerful shock, immediately releasing his summoned servants...he realizes this small town has a formidable protection a ward of some sort around it, most likely the huge sphinx statue is the center. Perhaps Arlel's decision to make a home here makes sense. He also wonders what would happen if he released his main ally, what could happen?

They enter and carefully investigate er residence, casting of detect magic reveals the feather stylus has a slight evocation. The papyrus has no markings. A small stylized stone obelisk carved with personalized engravings, the paladin wants to hold on to it, but the others remind him of their vow not to remove anything. Eventually the paladin submits, putting it back. Meanwhile the psionicist tells them he sensed a powerful evil presence for seconds, something far evil than he's ever felt before, who was apparently watching everyone; nobody is quite sure what that means. They are unsure if they have gained any insight as to where their former companion might be.

Night seems to take the party quickly, and they retreat to the lodging and equipment acquired by the paladin's soldiers, a small bevy of local cuisine and equipment as well as services of a tattooist, who can provide a Mark of Phastian Language Skills (OOG +5 to Phastian Language plus INT bonus +10 non-roll bonus for calm speaking scenarios.)

Arun wants to learn about the town's fountain obelisk, and spends most of the night in a library within the sphinx. Galdahad spends much of the time drinking, sharing stories learning lore of the Sea, and of rumours of what is hidden beneath the pyramids. The halfling watches the room carefully, sipping her mull, and tries to gauge the people...they are being watched but only generally. Hervandos, returns to their room, slipping into quiet meditation. The paladin also goes back to the shared room, to spend some time with his soldiers, sharing an ale and ensuring their morale is high. Eventually they all slip out first some drinks and camaraderie.

The next day the Phaetox takes to the sky to look for any signs, and one interesting aspect is of a simple hut with some petitioners or students outside of it. Wanting to learn, she spends the day in contemplation. Arun, continues his intense study of the fountains and its connections to obelisks and the various local faiths. Fesselin takes a careful watching spot, hoping to see if their action last night raised some suspicions, enough so someone takes any action. Dassadar wanting to have a better understanding, starts to walk, south, and eventually finds the edge, they are on a spire, essentially a cliff island, perhaps a mile or more high. He sees far away many pyramids, as well as other spires. They could spend years looking for their former comrade, but she had promised them a great opportunity to vanquish evil.

At the end of the day, an old man comes out, and gives each of the petitioners the object, they are looking for, then finally looks at Galadahad and says, “You were looking for the cleric Arlel, then we we need to talk.”

Active Characters (GP = Game Points)

35 G.P Dassadar Aasimar / 8th level 

31 G.P. Fesselin Halfling Finder / 8th level 

28 G.P. Galdahad Phaetox / 7th level

28 G.P. Hervandos Psionic / 7th level

26 G.P. Cassie human sorceror / 7th level

23 G.P. Arun / Wizard / 7th level

Token Tally

Adrian 10 W, 3 B

Karen 22 W + 3 B

Serena 15 W, 2 B

Senthil 13 W, 2 B

Curnette 12W, 0 B

Rob 5 W, + 3 B