(5.5e PBP) Red Wizards' Gambit (IC) Gr2

[Eyes of Nine]

Almost mid-step, Sarrakk pauses on the threshold of Blackstone House, as the sound of gathering crowds impinges on his attention. He turns, and glancing over the heads of a trio of academic types - well, one of them seems more like a porter - he sees some sort of statue dedication. The academics had turned also, and by their accent, it was clear they were not from Immilmar. He heard just the final snippet of conversation, the boy was asking how the statue was so realistic. Perhaps his local knowledge could be of help to these strangers to the city.

He stepped over to them, and went down to one knee, so that his tall and wide frame wouldn't loom over the three shorter folk (in truth, most folks were shorter than Sarrakk). Magical types could get spooked by his size, and spooked wizards could do... unpredictable things.

"I could not help but overhear. I thought my local knowledge could clear up the mystery. The hardy craftsfolk of the High Country can do magical things with stone they say. And others say they can do stony things with magic..." Sarrakk paused, and was disappointed but not surprised that his jest fell flat. Rarely did people understand Sarrakk's humor, such as it was.

"Anyway, I wonder if you all are from around here? Most women don't wear masks, unless they're part of..." his voice lowered to a whisper, "... the Wychlaran. You've heard of them, yes? And also, men who have skill in magic are often... hidden. And not always willingly." His gaze went distant at a memory, before focusing back on the gnome, the young-looking man, and the masked woman.

"Shall we get closer to whatever is happening over there? I feel that it may be connected to my own business here in Immilmar. Name's Sarrakk of the Four. Originally from the Rashemi steppe, but my dajemma took me to Calimshan. And now my Oath brings me back." His folds his thumb to his palm, his four fingers straight and he touches his belly, his heart, his lips, and the top of his head, and then puts his palm out flat towards the gnome. "By the Dao, the Efreet, the Marid, and the Djinn. By the Four, it is a good day to meet and be met."

 

[Tonguez]

"From the perspective of control and application I do prefer direct current" Orbril contemplated Mortimers inquiry "although for certain transformative processes an alternating flow can produce some quite interesting results. I once achieved a remarkably stable oscillating elemental field using two opposed galvanic..."

Then Mortimer mentioned the curse, causing the gnome to stop, his expression changing from cheerful academic enthusiasm to genuine concern.

"Ah. I see." he apologised with a respectful nod to the silent masked women "curses and theurgic magic in general is well outside my field of study, I'm afraid, although I would be very interested to know how the Wychlaran might deal it. That could be exceptional insight into local philosophies..."

Orbril may have spent some time contemplating the nature of curses when, fortunately, Mortimer supplied something else to investigate.

Orbril turned toward the statue, the triple ocular immediately came down, and he almost involuntarily started to move closer to get a better look "yes the craftmanship is quite remarkable. They've used techniques to catch the light which gives the fur the illusion of motion"

It was then that he felt a large shadow loom over them, and instinctive the little gnome spun, leaning back to look up - and up again - at the large Rashemi gentlemen from the House of Bhalla moving in to kneel down beside them.

"Oh!, this is unexpected." Orbril exclaimed with surprise and delight as Sarrakk explained the reputation of the local craftfolk, the status of magic and the Wychlaran, before making his introductions

"Sarrakk of the Four" Orbril acknowledged, his own hands unconciously mimicking Sarrakks sequence of gestures as he watched: belly, heart, lips, head. Four fingers. Four elemental powers. There was an awkward moment when Sarrakk raised his palm and Orbril did the same, but then was unsure on what to do next.

"I'm Orbril y Magerat." he eventually said "Alchemist and Practical Geologist. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sarrakk of the Four. I saw you earlier at the House of Bhalla, and had wondered about your observance there - Soil, moisture, breath and flame - Earth, water, air, fire. Was the sequence significant? I had wondered whether if the ordering represented an elemental hierarchy, and whether variation was possible. Calcinato, Solutio, Sublimato and Coagulato Fire, Water, Air, Earth would be the Alchemical sequence seeking Quintesential purification or Harmony as you have described it. I wonder if the particular sequence is determined by intent in which case..."

Orbril had been scribbling notes as he interviewed Sarrakk excitedly, only to realise that he hadn't yet pasued to take a breath.

"Sorry." He lowered his pencil "Professional hazard. I am honoured to meet you, especially given your unique background, being both Rashemi and with substantial influence from Calimshan and your particular order."

so yes thank you. Your insights would be most invaluable" Orbril's gaze returned to the veiled statue, crafted of rare marble to represent a spirit guardian and about to be dedicated by an actual Wychlaran. His eyes widened noticeably behind the lenses.

"Yes." He snapped the notebook shut "Yes, I think we should get considerably closer. I wonder if any of the base chips or dusts might be available for examination - you don't suppose I could get a direct sample do you?"

Orbril sighed and put away his geological hammer.

"No? - Observation only."

 

[Leatherhead]

"Mortimer is my name, Cecile is my maidservant. We come from the Dragon Coast, and my family has roots in Unther. But you could probably tell that from just looking at me." Mortimer says has he takes a cautious eye at the Symbol of the Four.

It was just over a decade ago when the Untherans returned from the Elementally-Ruled sister planet of Toril , Abeir, freeing them from the oppressive rule of the Genasi there. The boy has the look of a pre-teen. Young enough to have not suffered directly from the event, but everyone who raised him would have been at the prime age to experience it first hand, and hand down their scars.

"Cecile does not mean to offend any of the local traditions, her mask is to conceal her condition." The young craftsman continues while his maid nods in agreement. "In fact, it is her condition that brings us here. Our other attempts at a cure have given mixed results at best. Maybe we could meet some of these, honored women, at this ceremony?"

 

[Eyes of Nine]

Sarrakk repeated a truncated version of the formal meeting ritual, simply holding his hand up again with his thumb folded in, palm towards Mortimer and Cecile. "By the Four, well met!"

He clambered to his feet, and re-assumed his natural slouch - yet still towered over the other three.
"Let me lead us to that low wall just beyond the statue. For those of... ahem... less tall stature it could be a good vantage point to see the ceremony. Right over there next to that young man in the grey tunic who seems to be meditating. In this crowd! Aren't people interesting?"

Without waiting for an answer, the orc pushed his way through the crowd with smiles, polite Rashemi words, and the occasional gentle nudge. Until finally the small group gained the wall, and Sarrakk offered to boost his companions up onto the wall so the could have an excellent unimpeded view of the proceedings.

He leaned back against the wall, folded his arms, and leaned towards the meditating young man in grey.

"Apologies, I hope our presence here won't interrupt your meditation sirrah. Although I think the ceremony is about to begin, and in my experience with the Wychlaran, expect the opposite of quiet or subtle."

 

[Tonguez]

"Unther..." Orbril furrowed his brow trying to recall what he knew of Mortimers homeland
"Oh Unther!" he exclaimed, his eyes going wide as he looked from the young human over to the four-colour symbol that Sarrakk wore. It was quite understandable that Mortimer might be cautious given what had happened to his people, but even the curious gnome was wise enough to avoid digging deeper in the middle of the street.

Fortunately Sarrakk drew their collective attention to a low wall, just beyond the statue and the 2'9" gnome was delighted to be following in the wake of the large Rashemi Orc whose progress proved to be remarkably effective at clearing the crowd. He even accepted assistance in clambering up the all without the slightest injury to his dignity.

"Thank you, wonderful" he enthused as he shuffled in to position, enjoying the elevated position where he could see over the heads of the crowd assembling to witness the Wychlaran ceremony "this is much better!"

He adjusted the brass-rimmed ocular as he found his perch, lags dangling and notebook balance on his knee.
"I have a clear view of the statue" he declared as he began taking notes "I would be very interested to know the provenance of its base material. Different lithologies can have remarkably different behaviours, hmm, you know a if anyone spots a chip of the marble, I'd be greatful, it should make a great control sample to compare to any thaumatological transformations that might arise through the ceremony".

 

[FitzTheRuke]

The Dedication Ceremony

A crowd formed around the new well and fountain, consisting of both reverent locals and enthusiastic foreigners. Children played, dodging between the legs of taller folk, laughing. While the weather was not ideal, it was not raining, and the cool wind that had been blowing from the lake stilled as a Rashemi woman strode through the crowd. She wore a mask of exquisite craftsmanship, with a colourful plumage that swept back over her braided hair. Her dress was similarly patterned and hand-knit in finely-woven wool. Despite its length and warmth, it was clear that she could move well, as she deftly hopped up onto the marble of the fountain and addressed the crowd in a voice that was clear and filled the square - nothing of the muffle that one would expect from the mask.

"I bid welcome to all. Today, we honour the work of our Master Stone-crafters! May the sprits guide them, always."

Two large Rashemaar pulled a tarp off of the statue in the centre of the fountain, revealing a masterfully carved Pegasus in white marble. They then removed a wooden plug and the fountain began to fill with water. The woman, who no one would mistake for anything other than a Wychlaren, one of the famed Rashemi Witches, waved her staff and the water swirled up and about before returning to the fountain. Children, and many foreigners, clapped, while most of the Rashemi bowed their heads in silent contemplation.

After a moment, she said, "We ask the blessing of the Pegasus! The spirits of Rashemen and the souls of its people are represented by these beasts: full of power, both natural and magical. Let these statues remind us of who we are and what we must always be. Glorious and Free!"

She was about to go on, but her voice was interrupted by a sudden shriek that was loud enough to ring the ears of most of the onlookers. Then, a man from near the back of the crowd stepped forward and scoffed, "Free!? Pshaw! You will kneel before your Thayan Masters!"

He doffed the hood of his cloak, revealing a bald head covered in arcane tattoos. As he did, the white marble of the Pegasus statue began to blacken and twist, and in its place was a bat-winged animate creature that looked like a cross between a bat and a griffon. It lashed out at the Wychlaren, who had been preparing defensive spells, and she was thrown into the crowd of panicking citizens.

OOC: I will return soon to post a combat map & "round-roller".

 

[Tonguez]

From his perch on the wall, Orbril watched enthralled as the ceremony proceeded, even trying to sketch the Wychlaran in her masks and plumes as she swept through the crowd and commanded attention.
"Oh look mortimer its a Pegasus!" he exclaimed, his pencil still scratching across the page, noting the fine crystaline structure of the marble.
When the Wychlaran raised her staff and the water rose up into the air, the gnome stopped writing altogethe leaning forward precariously.

"Absolutely fascinating." he exclaimed "Do you think its a direct manipulation or an elemental manifestation? I wonder how we could test for a sympathetic relationship between the water as medium, the statue and the guardian spirit..."

Then came the shriek! The alert little gnome pushed himself up on to his feet and focussed in on the hooded man who had invoked the Thayan Masters
"Mortimer! Are you seeing this?" he cried out as the white marble blackened and transformed "The statues lithic matrix is undergoing spontaneous thaumaturgical reconfiguration!"

The transformed statue lashed out at the Wychlaren turning everything to chaos. Orbril was already scrambling, having taken time to pull his catapult and a pyrotechnic tube from his pack
"Someone needs to clear the crowd" he declared as his eyes swept over the gathering "and deal with that Red Wizard!

oh and if anyone happens to knock a piece off the statue - I'd be thankful if I can get it!"

 

[Eyes of Nine]

Sarrakk's shield is on his arm instantly, and he reaches over his shoulder and unseathes his long sword.

"Ser Orbril - protect the rest, I'll see if I can bring this Thayan to the ground!"

Sarrakk prepares to charge at the Red Wizard, dashing through the crowd, gaining strength about him as he rushes forward. [Bonus Action: Adrenaline Rush species Feat]

"By the Four, STAND DOWN!"

 

[Leatherhead]

"Yes, a Pegasus, the shape under the tarp made it obvious in hindsight..." Mortimer trailed off while paying rapt attention to the Wychlaren during the ceremony, taking care to observe the magic she employed. Some of the base parts were familiar to him, but the technique and interweaving of spirits was completely different than how he used it. Perhaps this plan of his would work after all? Now to just find away to introduce himself.

As if the universe had answered his unspoken call, the event erupted into violence.

"I don't believe that transformation was spontaneous, Professor!" Mortimer cried back to Orbril after the Red Wizard introduced himself. As Sarrakk charged in to engage the enemy spellcaster, the boy drew his wand and directed his companion "Cecile, go save the Wychlaren! I'll offer ranged support!"

If she makes it through this, Mortimer thought. The witch should be more receptive to the idea of helping us. If she doesn't, it's time to get out of here. The red wizards would be less interested in curing my condition than spreading it, and who knows what experiments they would perform to make that happen.

 

[FitzTheRuke]

Crowds of frightened people pulled back toward the edges of the town square, leaving stragglers to fend for themselves. There would be only seconds to act before the fell beast on the former statue's dais would rend in twain some helpless sap...

GM: Group: 2 Encounter: Dedication Ceremony in Immilmar Square Time: ~14:10 on 24 Leaffall 1501DR

Spoiler: Map

(General Features)
Difficult Terrain Benches, Commoners.
Cover Walls
Hazards Crowds
Visibility Bright Daylight.

Spoiler: Allies

(PCs)
Mortimer AC:16 HP:21/21 HD:3/3 Spd:30 PP:13 SSdc13:3/3 JtL 3/3 TM 3/3 Kfapl 2/2
Orbril AC: HP:21/21 HD:3/3 Spd:30 PP:13.DV60 SSdc13:3/3
Sarrakk AC:16(18) HP:30/30 HD:3/3 Spd:30 PP:11.DV120 ARsh:2/2 REn:1/1 ChD:2/2 DSm:1/1 LoH:15/15 SSdc13:3/3
Shen AC:15 HP:21/21 HD:3/3 Spd:40 PP:15 FoP:3/3
(NPCs)
Cecile AC:13 HP:20/20 HD:3/3 Spd:30 PP:10
Commoners AC:10 HP:4ea PP10
Crowds AC:10 HP:40ea PP10
-Cr1:40 Cr2:40 Cr3:40
Rashemaar AC:13 HP:32ea PP:11
-R1:32; R2:32
Zorri (Whychlaren) AC:13 HP:50/66 HD:8/8 Spd:30 PP:13

Spoiler: Enemies

(BGs)
Darkenbeast AC:15 HP:60/60 PP:12.DV60
Thayan (Red Wizard) AC:12(15) HP:52/52 THP:11/11 PP:14

GM: Begin Round One