Pathfinder 1E IC - Tideruler: The Fall of Laholt


Alice took for herself a half-glass of wine, electing to keep her senses sharp. She smiled at Moss' greeting. "How do you do, Moss," she replied, shaking his hand, then leaving him to mingle with the others.

She situated herself against a wall, sipping her wine and observing everyone carefully. There were a lot of them, and it'd do well to keep an eye out for any ne'er-do-wells sneaking in with the crowd. And it had been a difficult day where apparently everyone and their dire dog had taken one look at her horns and skin and drawn that selfsame conclusion that ate at the soul, so she just wanted to sip wine and turn the logic of the events over in her head some more.

She didn't hate the fey, not really, but they were bound by a different logic system than she was used to and she had never fully cracked it, and she hated being at a disadvantage. Still, she thought as she nodded at a couple of bouncy nymphs that waved at her. They weren't all bad.

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Archon Basileus

First Post

Here and there, small talk still brews a bit of resentment. Aranel's perfectly capable of dissuading any sort of risk still left behind with elegance and ease. She's almost done with the simple task of calming the apparently soothing presences when a short whisper reaches out for her ears. A male, distant voice calls out. "So, it's you. I gotta say, the statues don't do you justice..." - as Aranel turns, she faces a small pixie flying around with a delighted smile upon his face. "Yes, very draconic indeed." - he gives a quick glance to the side as Moss appears in the distance. "And he's here, too! This is getting interesting..." - all of a sudden, she realizes there are a few pixies flying amidst the crowd, the little voices trying to unmake the carefully tailored job of calming everyone down - in vain, clearly, as the creatures are shunned away as they appear.

"Soooo... Why are you here?" - the mischief on his face is all-too-evident.


The priestess nods around, showing a controlled enticement by Daxio's presence and attention. "I'm Medlan. I help Mawdir... in his duties." - Daxio observes the young oracle and realizes her hidden beauty behind the stern appearance. All-too-delicate, odds are the Satyr chose her as a right arm for a reason. "The crown was a gift. Gozreh grew it amidst the thorn wall on the south, his only caress through the strength of his defense" - her shy manners let out a small degree of satisfaction and pride as she speaks of the gift. "Forgive me... But only the priests can handle this." - she hides the crown within a pouch, made out of branches and silk. "We can't risk to anger the gods even further. I... Mawdir was led to believe that the priestess angered Gozreh with her newly acquired habits. If we were to offend him as well..." - she falls silent for a moment.


The gnome glances at the arrivals, jumping back a bit as she sees Moss. She says nothing, but her eyes clearly follow the dragon from that moment on. "If you ask me" - she continues, now addressing the Bat and watching Moss - "I'd say something's been stirring the waters 'round here. I mean, don't you find it strange that all of a sudden one of the most reclusive communities 'round takes humans, three unusual types such as these" - she points out Moss, Aranel and Charlotte - "and manages to poke Arduniel into action? I say, this is no coincidence." - she leans forward, looks to the sides and continues - "...To tell you the truth, those crazy cultists down there have been giving everyone a hard time as well. They've collected every debt they had, and they've been stacking lots and lots of gear... Scrolls, potions, magic weapons, you name it. Bastards an me nearly dry in a week!" - she goes on. "And the obsidian! The craftsmen are enraged by it! They manage to buy every ounce of it for a fair price as well! God's know what are they doing with these things... Precious stones of all sorts, magical devices, week in and week out. Hoarders.." - she seems truly displeased.


A few momentssipping from their spirits and observing the room and the heroes are bound to bring attention upon them. A respectful nod from a Green Knight and a bow receivs Arduniel, Zyara and Charlotte, a memory of the knight code among the Fair Fey and the elves that abide by their ancient laws. The trio is sided by the Firbolg, Pelanor,as the giant moans about his situation, seeking both companions' counsel.
"Our concerns are merely with the people at the encampment, Arduniel. You know it. The priestess indulges in black magic and invokes dark gods. True, this is what most people do, but within a temple!" - he then turns to Charlotte, his warlike gaze completely unmade by a pleading, almost shy, face. "Ma'am, you've seen the insides of the castle. Does she cohort with the gods from below in there? Rumor...." - he halts for a moment. "Rumor has it that she calls forbidden names. Names of blood servants and shadow creatures.Names she found in a book..." - he seems concerned about these last words, but says them nonetheless. His eyes fall upon Zyara. "And... And... You are a demon hunter, aren't you, lady monk?" - for the first time, he appears as he is: a shy farmer seeking out words and help in desperation. "Do you suspect anything?" - he glances around once more. "Please, don't take offense on my people's reactions... They don't know any better... We've a good life here. We don't want the old days to return. We don't want war again. We only want to live here... In peace." [MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=6801311]KahlessNestor[/MENTION] [MENTION=6847138]Charlotte of Oz[/MENTION] [MENTION=87106]MetaVoid[/MENTION] [MENTION=1231]Kaodi[/MENTION]
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Hero up.

The Bat takes a deep breath and exhales, turning his attention back to the gnome. "That sounds like enough to make anyone uneasy," he says, nodding slightly. "Would you know if anyone among the cult had taken ill? Stockpiling indicates preparation for a coming storm. But whether they have sought to brew it or merely seek to weather it..." He pauses for a moment. "Determining which may require more information."

Arduniel is serious, thinking over the possibilities
"We were inside, but only in the reception hall. And turning toward anything that gives you power is not unheard of if your reasoning is impaired for whatever reason. Did she lost someone to the plague? Ambition and power hunger can make people do things...but let's try to be open to the possibility she is just bereaved child, mother or spouse. Or just racist trying her best to 'help' the Fey - well meant, but misguided as she would polute everything with fiendish influence."

He tries to comfort the commoners, but he is out of touch with their reality.
"We have a group that can take cultists, fiends and other horrors. You need to focus on surviving until this can be resolved. Keep together, don't panic and try not to fall to mob mentality again. It can only lead to harm. Have Faith. It is easy to proclaim it in easy times. Live it when it's hard and Gozreh will smile."

Archon Basileus

First Post

Would you know if anyone among the cult had taken ill?

"Not that I'm aware of" - she continues. "But then again, no one in the caves did. Except for Meroveus. Some say the druids have protected everyone by using the natural barriers of the cave... Might explain why Meroveus got sick... Druids aren't fond o'him..."

"Might be the fact that no one there mingles with the others for too long, also... Who's to know..." - she shrugs taking a long sip from her goblet.


"True" - the shy priestess nods in approval.

"I'd say she lost control, brother... More than anyone. Wouldn't that be enough to justify desperate actions? Considering she wants us desperately to fight mortal settlements all around, and many of us disagree... Now that her own ranks are broken, she stands little chance of accomplishing her crusade..." - Pelanor continues, pensive and humbled.

[The conversations are happening within the same area; everyone can overhear the others and communicate around. The division is merely to keep the posts orderly enough. :)]

[MENTION=6847138]Charlotte of Oz[/MENTION] [MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=6801311]KahlessNestor[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=1231]Kaodi[/MENTION] [MENTION=87106]MetaVoid[/MENTION]


I plan on living forever. Or die trying.
"I am not called Fintir Kothar for nothing. If there are demons to slay, we should go."
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Archon Basileus

First Post

As they hear Moss' name, both the Firbolg and the priestess fall silent. In fact, the reaction reaches a bit further, and even the lady gnome seems to know something that makes her fall silent, looking back and forth between Aranel and Moss. After a few seconds, the Firbolg speaks up.

"You are the Fintir Kothar, then. The Lillend spoke the truth..." - they look at each other. The crowd grows uneasy for a second or two, finding it difficult to continue the conversation. They seem at a loss.

It's the priestess that goes on.

"It does match the Lillend's words. The Fintir Kothar and the Herald, bringing forth the Smiling Sage and the Frowning Huntress. Rage, Death and the Seeker meet them in Alessia." - she trembles, the crowd listens. "I... I think your presence here represents more than... is more than... you've been told about. The plague..." - she stops for a second, gasping for air.

"I... Meroveus should be doing this. Not I. You should go for him, I mean, I should send for him... I..." - the Firbolg tries to comfort the priestess. "I ... can't do this, Pellanor, it's way out of my league...."

"Meroveus is sick" - he answers bluntly. "He doesn't have long. Would you risk them as well?" - he motions towards the heroes. After a small silence, he continues.

"Some of our craftsmen have taken inspiration from our ancient protectors. The Lillend appeared to them several times, just as the Solar appeared several times to the Lonely King in the capital. Once, the Lillend spoke of this. The craftsmen put their backs into depicting her visions. Songs were sung, and we waited. The plague came. And now we realize the names in the songs are among us." - he falls silent once more. "We hadn't realized at first, but now it is all clear. The Fintir Kothar and the Herald" - he points out towards Moss and Aranel - "bring the Smiling Sage" - he points to Daxio - "and the Frowning Huntress" - he motions towards Zyara, a bit shy. "Rage should be you, Arduniel, and the Seeker, you..." - he points towards the elf and the Tiefling. "And death... I hope one last hero is among us. If not... Maybe death is just our fate." - silence, the only answer such a people could give under such circumstances, is all that is heard around.

@Neurotic @KahlessNestor @Shayuri @Charlotte of Oz @MetaVoid @Kaodi
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The knight allows his gaze to follow that of his conversational companion and he listens carefully as the priestess and the firbolg speak. The ways of these fey seemed in some ways strange and unfamiliar to him. But never alien. They were like distant echoes, an obscured reflection, or a half-remembered dream of his childhood life among his own kind.

And death... I hope one last hero is among us.

He looked down at his gauntleted hands, looked through the darkened metal, to see the skin of his hands underneath. In this moment there was nothing distant nor half-remembered about that day. He had grabbed his friend and shaken him. Begged him to snap into it. He long seen enough dead bodies by that age to know his friend was gone, but he could not accept it. The feeling of their betrayal; the sneers on their face as the told him to stand up and come home with them. But he looked down one last time and the empty expression that greeted him would stay with him forever...

He closes his fingers into clenched fists and looks up. He disliked prophecies, and team ups, and surprises. Especially surprises. But he could feel that the moment was on him.

The Bat straightens himself and, stepping forward once towards the duo, proclaims "I was born in death."


"Would an, oh, what's the word, 'demon-touched mongrel' such as myself be on the up and up about that, really?" Alice sipped her wine, then decided to rein in the cattiness a bit. "All right, that was snippy of me. No, the priestess has everyone's best interests at heart. And if you don't trust her, you can trust me. All I'm after is, you know: truth and justice. The boring stuff. Making sure that people live and the wicked face justice."

Voidrunner's Codex

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