Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Hedron silently taks his leave and joins Gerhard
[e20 PF] And with strange aeons...
- Thread starter fireinthedust
- Start date
fireinthedust
Explorer
The two warriors leave their parties and meet at the hq of the Dwarven Weaponer's Guild. The guild is in the craftsman district of Absalom, in an area adjacent to a swath of ruined city: an outcropping of rock above a drop with the ruined city below.
The building is itself a fort, built sturdy and squat. The doors are a smaller version of a castle gate, but the two of you are aware that this building could clearly withstand seige for some time. Out back plumes of smoke reach skyward.
There are two statues shaped like dwarves in plate mail: squat, armored, sturdy. They could even be dwarves, but they're lodged in the wall. The slits of their vizers could function as arrow slits, you note.
There is a great knocker on the door.
The building is itself a fort, built sturdy and squat. The doors are a smaller version of a castle gate, but the two of you are aware that this building could clearly withstand seige for some time. Out back plumes of smoke reach skyward.
There are two statues shaped like dwarves in plate mail: squat, armored, sturdy. They could even be dwarves, but they're lodged in the wall. The slits of their vizers could function as arrow slits, you note.
There is a great knocker on the door.
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Hedron stands a pace back as he is carrieing the prefered weapon of the 'pasty elves' and does not want to offend the delicate senses of the dwarves.
WarlockLord
First Post
Last edited:
jackslate45
First Post
Standing up, and with a smile Xanfire points to the back of Hedron "I am not very good at perceiving my surroundings either. Why do you think I'm friends with him?" Looking at all the novices one last time Xanfire says "May the grace of Iomedae be upon you, and good luck in your training."
Shaking hands with the Grand Templar, Xanfire says "I feel my work is out in the field, and not here. You have done well for yourself here. Look at the novices as proof. See them grow with your teachings."
Xanfire points out the training that the novices do as they walk past them.
After talking with the Grand Templar for sometime, Xanfire's face turns serious.
"It has been to long since my last trip here. I wish I could linger for a while longer. However, time is of the esscennce, and there is much to discuss. Can we return to your office? I feel it would be best to dicuss matters there."
Scott DeWar
Prof. Emeritus-Supernatural Events/Countermeasure
Hedron grins at the complement, and replies, "lets hope they appreciate the craftsmanship of our wears."
Thorn tags along with Thad, partly to keep an eye on her former employer, and partly because she figures this is probably where to go if she wants her cloak and Seeing Gem replaced with even reasonable facsimiles. Plus, she reflects, some kind of defense against that anti-magic power would probably be good.
She doesn't bother announcing herself, she just follows Thad through the door.
She doesn't bother announcing herself, she just follows Thad through the door.
fireinthedust
Explorer
[sblock=Temple of Iomedae] Xanfire is led beyond the common prayer area of the Temple, through a set of doors to where the priesthood spends their days. However, they are not headed to the Grand Templar's office.
I'm afraid you timing is impeccable, Xanfire. More than you know, and that's what scares me. The Old Woman sent for you before you and your friends arrived. I think she saw something in her visions, and you know what that means... The paladin left off ominously as you made your way towards the office of the High Cleric of Iomedae.
In the office, going through the doors, you see the High Cleric seated behind a desk, and in front of the desk are chairs, apparently for you and one other: an old woman covered by funeral veils, with a withered hands on her lap. In her hand is a string of beads, and her bony thumb clicks through them one by one.
Despite all your adventures, you've only ever heard of "the Old Woman", a mystic Oracle of immense age and wisdom who spends her time cloistered away from the world. You're not sure where she fits into the hierarchy of the church, or even if she's an Oracle of Iomedae (though she should be, considering the High Cleric is dealing with her). Only that occasionally she gets visions that have to do with you, and that there are some orders from your church that you're sure had to do with one of her visions; these led to adventures, including your participation in events that worked out in strange ways simply because you were there. Even for a master cleric like yourself, that's eerie.
The High Cleric (who you remember showing how to do certain prayers years back; gosh, you've been teaching a lot of these high ups in the Church of Iomedae, and they've done well for themelves) looks at you with a certain awe: the Old Woman was right again!
Xanfire! You're here, I--
The Old Woman cuts in.
The sun rises and sets and you know not why, but this mystery amazes you, strange these High Clerics and their lack of faith. Xanfire, you have arrived with a warning and found only questions. Come and say what you are here to say, but know that great sorrow awaits you at the end of our meeting. She doesn't look at you, but only the click click clack of the beads in her fingers makes any noise in the silence between her words and whatever you say next.[/sblock]
[sblock=Dwarven Weaponers] The door opens, and you enter into the fortress of the Weaponers. Armored guards, all dwarves, escort you through another set of door, to a stiflingly small office.
You find yourselves all too close to a dwarven merchant behind an oak desk. He's got a dark beard and red leather armor on, a pock-marked nose, and a sheaf of papers and a quill in his hands. The three of you are squished into one five-foot space, and a ceiling only just six feet high.
Gentlemen, make yourselves at home. What can I do for you?[/sblock]
[sblock=The Unblinking Eye] Going down the corridor, the eye in the archway does nothing but watch you. Up the walls you feel watched, and small slits for windows can be seen, though not seen through. The corridor is only five feet wide, an alleyway, but enough for simple passage; and not, you note, for a party of adventurers who need more space to assault a door.
The door is open when you turn the corner, popping open with a sound. It is made of old brown wood, polished, and short, just under six feet, so you find the need to duck as you enter.
Entering the chapter house of the Esoteric Order of the Unblinking Eye, you go for a moment in darkness until the door closes behind you. Then the light turns on.
The inside of the house is an extra-dimensional space. There you stand on a small landing made of stone, with a set of steps going up and another set going down, neither set having railings. The steps they branch off into various catwalks and staircases, some ending at doorways, some suddenly taking an angle and folding up so that one would have to walk up walls to use them. Beyond the steps and catwalks, however, you see only swirling colors of fantastics, prismatic lights: an infinite dimensional void. Here and there cloaked and hooded figures walk along the pathways and staircases.
There is a hollow, echoing sound of a clock's tick-tock.
Then a voice speaks to you from nowhere and everywhere. I am the voice of the Unblinking Eye. Why do you enter our domain girded in such powerful sorceries?[/sblock]
I'm afraid you timing is impeccable, Xanfire. More than you know, and that's what scares me. The Old Woman sent for you before you and your friends arrived. I think she saw something in her visions, and you know what that means... The paladin left off ominously as you made your way towards the office of the High Cleric of Iomedae.
In the office, going through the doors, you see the High Cleric seated behind a desk, and in front of the desk are chairs, apparently for you and one other: an old woman covered by funeral veils, with a withered hands on her lap. In her hand is a string of beads, and her bony thumb clicks through them one by one.
Despite all your adventures, you've only ever heard of "the Old Woman", a mystic Oracle of immense age and wisdom who spends her time cloistered away from the world. You're not sure where she fits into the hierarchy of the church, or even if she's an Oracle of Iomedae (though she should be, considering the High Cleric is dealing with her). Only that occasionally she gets visions that have to do with you, and that there are some orders from your church that you're sure had to do with one of her visions; these led to adventures, including your participation in events that worked out in strange ways simply because you were there. Even for a master cleric like yourself, that's eerie.
The High Cleric (who you remember showing how to do certain prayers years back; gosh, you've been teaching a lot of these high ups in the Church of Iomedae, and they've done well for themelves) looks at you with a certain awe: the Old Woman was right again!
Xanfire! You're here, I--
The Old Woman cuts in.
The sun rises and sets and you know not why, but this mystery amazes you, strange these High Clerics and their lack of faith. Xanfire, you have arrived with a warning and found only questions. Come and say what you are here to say, but know that great sorrow awaits you at the end of our meeting. She doesn't look at you, but only the click click clack of the beads in her fingers makes any noise in the silence between her words and whatever you say next.[/sblock]
[sblock=Dwarven Weaponers] The door opens, and you enter into the fortress of the Weaponers. Armored guards, all dwarves, escort you through another set of door, to a stiflingly small office.
You find yourselves all too close to a dwarven merchant behind an oak desk. He's got a dark beard and red leather armor on, a pock-marked nose, and a sheaf of papers and a quill in his hands. The three of you are squished into one five-foot space, and a ceiling only just six feet high.
Gentlemen, make yourselves at home. What can I do for you?[/sblock]
[sblock=The Unblinking Eye] Going down the corridor, the eye in the archway does nothing but watch you. Up the walls you feel watched, and small slits for windows can be seen, though not seen through. The corridor is only five feet wide, an alleyway, but enough for simple passage; and not, you note, for a party of adventurers who need more space to assault a door.
The door is open when you turn the corner, popping open with a sound. It is made of old brown wood, polished, and short, just under six feet, so you find the need to duck as you enter.
Entering the chapter house of the Esoteric Order of the Unblinking Eye, you go for a moment in darkness until the door closes behind you. Then the light turns on.
The inside of the house is an extra-dimensional space. There you stand on a small landing made of stone, with a set of steps going up and another set going down, neither set having railings. The steps they branch off into various catwalks and staircases, some ending at doorways, some suddenly taking an angle and folding up so that one would have to walk up walls to use them. Beyond the steps and catwalks, however, you see only swirling colors of fantastics, prismatic lights: an infinite dimensional void. Here and there cloaked and hooded figures walk along the pathways and staircases.
There is a hollow, echoing sound of a clock's tick-tock.
Then a voice speaks to you from nowhere and everywhere. I am the voice of the Unblinking Eye. Why do you enter our domain girded in such powerful sorceries?[/sblock]
Aldern Foxglove
First Post
"I seek to trade, and know that the Unblinking Eye is one of the few entities possessed of the power, wealth, and foresight to both see the value of what I possess and pay me a fair price for it. We have come into possession of a large number of Adamantine Daggers of exquisite quality. I wish to trade these items for either diamonds, coin, or powerful magical items to be chosen by myself and my colleagues from those you have access to and inclination to trade. How much adamantium would you be willing to purchase, and what are you prepared to offer to acquire it?"
Thadeius says in a non nonsense voice, not the least intimidated by the ominous surroundings.
Thadeius says in a non nonsense voice, not the least intimidated by the ominous surroundings.
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