D&D 5E [D&D 5e] Planescape - In Through the Out Door
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Unsung
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[sblock=Shandrizar]Bix has at least seven intact eyestalks that you can see from this angle, and counting eyestalks is one of the ways of telling the various beholderkin subspecies apart. Of course, there are other possible explanations for why a beholder might be missing an eye, and even among 'true' beholders there are many apparently minor features that can make a world of difference between separate hives (size, skin colour and consistency, number of teeth, eyestalk reticulation and functionality of various optic rays, comparative buoyancy...), leading to ostracization and outright civil war within the species, let alone between beholders and other creatures. The mere fact that Bix isn't overtly suppressing its instinctive territorial aggression and is seemingly well at home in this humanoid bar marks him out as an eccentric, and likely outcast, among his own kind. You'd almost guess he was a spectator, but he definitely has too many eyes for that.[/sblock]
[sblock=Wisdom (Perception) DC 12]
A poster has been wheatpasted onto the creature's chitinous side, emblazoned with a rather distinctive symbol.
[/sblock]
The huge central eye widens at Shard. "Demons? What kind of demons?" A faintly sick expression twists the broad maw, and the thing shrinks away from the door. Perhaps until the mention of demons Bix was content to hide in his room until the trouble blew over. Its eyestalks seem to be trying to retreat behind the curvature of its own bulk. "Barstle wants...me to take you?"
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"Yes," Shard replies. She has no idea that's what he wanted, but why else would he send them here?
"The demons are large and...like the scarab beetles, a little. Shelled and black, with..." she makes a gesture with her hands at her head, trying to imply wiggly feelers and jointed legs. "...that sort of thing. Can we come in, to discuss the matter a little more safely? Much longer and you may have a chance to see them for yourself."
"The demons are large and...like the scarab beetles, a little. Shelled and black, with..." she makes a gesture with her hands at her head, trying to imply wiggly feelers and jointed legs. "...that sort of thing. Can we come in, to discuss the matter a little more safely? Much longer and you may have a chance to see them for yourself."
Unsung
First Post
Bix doesn't answer, and neither does he protest-- it doesn't seem to occur to him-- but retreats fretfully into the room, a messy little hole-in-the-wall apartment only slightly larger than a closet. There's a cot-frame in the corner with a bedsheet lying in a twisted heap over it, but no pillow or mattress-- why would there be? --instead the cot seems to have been repurposed as a repository for a collection of dirty plaster plates from the bar downstairs.
[sblock=Passive Perception 11]The walls are bare, as are most of the shelves, but various objects hang from the ceiling: glass fishing floats and floating bladders, and a small brass orrery, dented and corroded.[/sblock]
[sblock=Passive Perception 11]The walls are bare, as are most of the shelves, but various objects hang from the ceiling: glass fishing floats and floating bladders, and a small brass orrery, dented and corroded.[/sblock]
...And Graydon just shuffled inside with the rest, intent on getting the help that was meant to come through this bizarre flying eye-ball. It didn't seem hostile and had at least some magic, but that was nowhere near as reassuring as it should be with those magic-resistant insects popping around! Seriously, how do you just RESIST the forces that hold all of existence together concentrated and channeled into precise destruction? What, do you just spend a few years getting shot with magic to develop a TOLERANCE?
Honestly, the very existence of those bug-things with their fancy 'resisting' was just offensive to Graydon, and he meant to discuss circumventing such things with Shandrizar when he had the chance- at least, once the book stopped trying to sucker him with claims about how a completely mechanical contraption was excreting biology at him. The so-called 'archmage' really needed to up its game at least a little already.
Where was he? Oh, right, bug-beasts and eye ovoids! Well, once he murmurs some thanks for the strange creature's hospitality and everyone gets themselves into the spare little room, he can hurriedly get the door shut (and locked if possible). Precious few fools were willing to chance the dangers of teleporting blindly, so an enclosed space was one of the best temporary defenses that could be hoped for.
Honestly, the very existence of those bug-things with their fancy 'resisting' was just offensive to Graydon, and he meant to discuss circumventing such things with Shandrizar when he had the chance- at least, once the book stopped trying to sucker him with claims about how a completely mechanical contraption was excreting biology at him. The so-called 'archmage' really needed to up its game at least a little already.
Where was he? Oh, right, bug-beasts and eye ovoids! Well, once he murmurs some thanks for the strange creature's hospitality and everyone gets themselves into the spare little room, he can hurriedly get the door shut (and locked if possible). Precious few fools were willing to chance the dangers of teleporting blindly, so an enclosed space was one of the best temporary defenses that could be hoped for.
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Fenris
Adventurer
Oz snickers "Did you come up with that on your own or did you exchange binding fluids with a thesaurus? Don't worry though if it falls flat I will cover for you. Oh, oh! And if you don't have the spine to support your joke, I will get you out of the gutter!" Oz is practically doubled over in laughter at the book-based puns.
Unsung
First Post
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Sorry for not posting! It's not so much that freaking out was a thing that had to happen, but if it was going to happen, I didn't want to just gloss over it. Freaking out at the various freaks of the planes is only appropriate for newcomers to the vastness of the planes, and a part of the whole Clueless experience not to be missed, says I. Bix smiles weakly at the jokes. You get the impression that he's a little awkward around crowds, or maybe he's just heard that one before.
But from a direct question there can be no escape. "Uh. W-well," he stutters at Shard's question. "Most people around here would tell you I'm a beholder. Most beholders I've met said I don't count, for various reasons. They say that about...most other beholders, though.
"...If they say anything at all," he trails off, looking around at the party, anxiously. He blinks at you, which takes some time.
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KirayaTiDrekan
Adventurer
Rusty contents itself with finding a corner in the beholder's room and folding itself up in a box (more or less) so as to stay out of the way. It doesn't even occur to Rusty to think that the beholder is odd in any way.
Quickleaf
Legend
With a groan resembling the creaking of an old leather tome, Shandrizar quips back at Oz with a wry smile. "Good to know we have a billy goat if I ever need help swallowing my pride."
Surveying the cramped living quarters, the floating spellbook is determined not to stay here, if not for the ongoing yugoloth attack then for the sheer unsuitability of such a space for an archmage of his stature. Not even a bookshelf in sight! "Good to meet you, Bix. I am Shandrizar...master of...well, just Shandrizar will have to do. This is Graydon, my bonded Conjurer. You do appear to have several mutations of your upper eyestalks, though hardly enough to not qualify you as a beholder. I mean, take for instance, my condition. I assure you beneath this handsome papery facade is a man; it's just my...physical shell...is a temporary inconvenience. Now, Bix, would you be so kind as to inform us of a way out of this inn? As a member of the Free League - yes? - you certainly cannot abide by the subjugation of innocents at the hands of fiends?"
Then, telepathically to Graydon:
Conjurer, it would appear our host Bix is an exiled beholder, creatures also known as eye tyrants, megalomaniacs from an unknown dimension who see themselves as superior to other forms of life. They are afflicted with madness, one and all. Perhaps Bix hails from the realm of Ilsensine in the Outlands? Ah, what you would call the Plane of Concordant Opposition, I believe. Clearly, an atypical representative of his species.
Surveying the cramped living quarters, the floating spellbook is determined not to stay here, if not for the ongoing yugoloth attack then for the sheer unsuitability of such a space for an archmage of his stature. Not even a bookshelf in sight! "Good to meet you, Bix. I am Shandrizar...master of...well, just Shandrizar will have to do. This is Graydon, my bonded Conjurer. You do appear to have several mutations of your upper eyestalks, though hardly enough to not qualify you as a beholder. I mean, take for instance, my condition. I assure you beneath this handsome papery facade is a man; it's just my...physical shell...is a temporary inconvenience. Now, Bix, would you be so kind as to inform us of a way out of this inn? As a member of the Free League - yes? - you certainly cannot abide by the subjugation of innocents at the hands of fiends?"
Then, telepathically to Graydon:
Conjurer, it would appear our host Bix is an exiled beholder, creatures also known as eye tyrants, megalomaniacs from an unknown dimension who see themselves as superior to other forms of life. They are afflicted with madness, one and all. Perhaps Bix hails from the realm of Ilsensine in the Outlands? Ah, what you would call the Plane of Concordant Opposition, I believe. Clearly, an atypical representative of his species.
Silently, to Shandrizar: And here I thought you didn't want your name getting out like this, o Master of Awkward Pauses. I was planning to start calling you Shandi! That said, for all that these 'eye tyrants' sound like a terrifying group, this one doesn't seem threatening in the slightest- well, unless he were to float over and try to bite me. Any precautions you might suggest in case of sudden betrayals by our intended rescuer? I certainly don't see another way out of here- unless this Bix guards one of these 'portal' things that are apparently all the rage in this place.
To Bix, he'd try to offer a graceful bow in the space permitted. "It's just as the book says. All we seek is an exit, so that we might cease crowding and concerning you in your personal space. Might there be anything we can do that would aid you in making this much-desired outcome a reality?"
Forget disguising his speech patterns, Graydon's leg still hurts and he wants out of here. If fancy words to guide this Bix's mind towards getting them gone will help, he'll get as loquacious as he needs to.
To Bix, he'd try to offer a graceful bow in the space permitted. "It's just as the book says. All we seek is an exit, so that we might cease crowding and concerning you in your personal space. Might there be anything we can do that would aid you in making this much-desired outcome a reality?"
Forget disguising his speech patterns, Graydon's leg still hurts and he wants out of here. If fancy words to guide this Bix's mind towards getting them gone will help, he'll get as loquacious as he needs to.
Shard's knuckles whitened around the haft of her spear. Bix seemed civil enough, and he was no more obviously a monster than the ravaging demons below. Something about him twisted inside her though, sparking startling desires for violence in the back of her mind.
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to put some distance between herself and what she was feeling.
He hasn't done anything to us. If he does, I'll return in kind. For now we need him though.
"Yes," she said roughly. "We need to get out of here."
She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to put some distance between herself and what she was feeling.
He hasn't done anything to us. If he does, I'll return in kind. For now we need him though.
"Yes," she said roughly. "We need to get out of here."
Unsung
First Post
Bix gulps, and it occurs to you to wonder where anything it swallows could possibly have room to go.
At that moment, a loud crash from downstairs rocks the whole building. That seems to make up his mind for him. "Urk-- oh gods-- follow me," he mutters.
A small, slightly damp drawstring pouch levitates off one of the shelves and pulls close to the scaly, spherical body. Bix edges through the small crowd that is the party, out of the dirty apartment and into the ruined hallway.
The beholder makes some faint unhappy noises as you pass by a dead man around the corner. It looks to be one of the smiths you saw earlier, with that other modron. An older man, but still brawny, with a bald pate and a thin white beard. His leather apron is smeared with blood. A line of neat puncture wounds, like you might get with a pitchfork or a trident, are punched in his chest, just below the neck.
Bix hovers by a slat door, not latched and not entirely closed. "There's a portal in the courtyard through here," he says softly, and leans up against the door as if to listen through it.
Even without being next to the door you can hear some muffled voices and the snapping of dry twigs underfoot.
At that moment, a loud crash from downstairs rocks the whole building. That seems to make up his mind for him. "Urk-- oh gods-- follow me," he mutters.
A small, slightly damp drawstring pouch levitates off one of the shelves and pulls close to the scaly, spherical body. Bix edges through the small crowd that is the party, out of the dirty apartment and into the ruined hallway.
The beholder makes some faint unhappy noises as you pass by a dead man around the corner. It looks to be one of the smiths you saw earlier, with that other modron. An older man, but still brawny, with a bald pate and a thin white beard. His leather apron is smeared with blood. A line of neat puncture wounds, like you might get with a pitchfork or a trident, are punched in his chest, just below the neck.
Bix hovers by a slat door, not latched and not entirely closed. "There's a portal in the courtyard through here," he says softly, and leans up against the door as if to listen through it.
Even without being next to the door you can hear some muffled voices and the snapping of dry twigs underfoot.
KirayaTiDrekan
Adventurer
Rusty unfolds itself and follows.
Queenie
Queen of Everything
"Give me a moment," Lili says, "I need some quiet." She moves her arms hypnotically and in whispers she speaks words unknown to most. She looks to be deeply concentrating as she balances on her dragon.
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CanadienneBacon
Explorer
[section]
Picayune eyed Shandrizar. The book was a curiousity. Picayune's fingers twitched. He shook his hand, trying to quelch the urge to grab the book and crack open the spine. When temptation overbore will, Picayune poked a finger at Shandrizar. "Say, brother. What kinda thing you be? Ain't never seen no talkin' flyin' book afore. You got music in yous?" The effigy lilted his head to the right, making a study of the tome.[/section]
Picayune eyed Shandrizar. The book was a curiousity. Picayune's fingers twitched. He shook his hand, trying to quelch the urge to grab the book and crack open the spine. When temptation overbore will, Picayune poked a finger at Shandrizar. "Say, brother. What kinda thing you be? Ain't never seen no talkin' flyin' book afore. You got music in yous?" The effigy lilted his head to the right, making a study of the tome.[/section]Shard went to the exit, but paused as Lili cast her spell. She took up a rearguard place, keeping an eye on the door to Bix's room, on Bix, and on Picayune as well...but more just to make sure the spirit didn't wander off than out of distrust.
She hoped the winged woman was quick. The demons wouldn't wait forever.
She hoped the winged woman was quick. The demons wouldn't wait forever.
Unsung
First Post
[sblock=Liliana]
The pixie, tiny as she is, can peep through the keyhole and sees a humped figure, no taller than halfling-height. It and several others seem to be milling about in the cramped courtyard. Between the overgrown dead grass and the wood-and-brick roof supports, it's difficult to make out their exact shape.
Reaching out with the spell, there are exactly [roll0] of them in range.
[/sblock]
The pixie, tiny as she is, can peep through the keyhole and sees a humped figure, no taller than halfling-height. It and several others seem to be milling about in the cramped courtyard. Between the overgrown dead grass and the wood-and-brick roof supports, it's difficult to make out their exact shape.
Reaching out with the spell, there are exactly [roll0] of them in range.
[/sblock]
CanadienneBacon
Explorer
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