Turtle Soup (Planescape 3.5e)

Rhys said:
His speech concluded, Rhys feels a bit foolish. Clearly this is not the sort of role he envisioned himself ever being in. Resigned to his fate, he walks over to Clareh and says, “I don’t quite understand exactly what is happening here, especially where it concerns the gith’s and the illithid. If you do, would you care to explain?”
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"Well, ancient lore holds that the Illithids, that purple tentacly thing, and thier gith slaves used to rule innumerable worlds back in thier heyday. Something happened though and I think the universe got reordered... I don't know all the details but the end result is the current configuration of the planes that we know today."

The big ghale flashes his ebony smile. "...and they planes aren't infinite... well... some are, but maybe this is one of the worlds that fell through the cracks during the planar reordering. Anything is possible for a force that can alter the cosmology of the multiverse."
 

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Andarin relaxes his stance as it becomes apparent that Rhys will not renew his attack on the newly formed races. He is enthralled by the transformation of Illithid and Gith and delighted by the appearance of the Phoenix-like creatures.

"Now that's more like it," he says. "Freedom, fire, flight and fantasy - all present in this world reborn. Song and spirit, strength and subtletly - and shared commitment to growth and wonder."

He watches delightedly as the Halfling Paladin, with Song Dragon in tow, strides towards Clareh's newly transformed races and first bows, then embraces each of them in turn. While not as tall as those whom she greets, she is solidly present, focused in a way which argues intensity of spirit and singleness of purpose. The Dragon, in contrast, is lithe and sinuous, continually in motion, except for those moments when he is totally still, as if time had ceased in a distillation of eternity. He is no larger than his Halfling companion, and his skin shines gemlike, with an exquisite covering of tiny scales through which waves of crystalline colour flow, apparently at random.

Then the Dragon launches himself into flight over the little group. His two pairs of wings form a gauzy haze as he spirals overhead, and he sings joyfully of growth and friendship - not in words but in song-stuff, which conveys more clearly than mere words could his excitement and delight at the life ahead.
 

I can't believe. I am here, on a beach, creating new races. I have been the father of our most revered spirits, the three kings. And them, they are creating races more marvelous than my dream could be filled. This world promise to be a marvelous one.

"Beautifull. Wish mi people bi free from Spirit. Wish mi people could live in world like here." Traore pause for a moment and looks at that small paradise. "No, not wish. Mi people done war for lands, for herds, for power. Mi people enslave themselves. Wanted more power, lot power, and mi people call the spirits. Mi don't wish that to this world."

He shows his spear. "Spear use to hunt. First it was to eat, but they start to hunt themselves. Spear help to bring life by giving food. Spear help to bring dead too." He grabs hs spear with two hands and starts to bend it. The wood start to crack and finally it broke in two. He puts both part on the beach. He walks up to the forest edge where he grabs some dead wood and some dead leaves and put that around and under the spear. "Wish people fom new world bi herder and farmer, not hunter." He takes his flint and steel and start the fire.
 
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"Lo and behold..." Jurgen announces in his powerful voice. "...Traore brings you the secret of making fire. Fire to ward off the darkness. Fire for warmth. Fire for comfort and Fire for cooking your food." The big ghaele doubles over with laughter and mirth. "Now all we need to do is teach them to carouse and drink fine beers." He laughs again.
 

A smile appear on Traore face. "Brewers... Someone have to eat. We may do small feast for them. Rhys, that your world. You are host. Mi people always receive guest with feast. Why not do same?"
 


The newly formed races gather about, following your instructions. Your thoughts effortlessly give rise to new forms, and the races multiply. Time distorts again, and you lose track of everyone else in a barrage of questions about the meaning of life, asked by thousands of voices at once. Your vision fades as time accelerates beneath you and the same questions repeat themselves over and over.

With a start, you wake up.

You are in the grand ballroom of the world serpent, again in your pyjamas. You feel strangely energized, but also very hung over. You've been asleep for some time. The veil around the bed is gone. Sun, Sea, Rhinnishar, and the Sarphidians, are no where to be seen. Meenah is also gone, and you don't recall her presence in the dream at all.

Bi is still sleeping, but Clareh is up. She hands you a cup of clean water, and you're almost too thirsty for words.

Here. Drink. She sounds tired. Helluva party, no?
 

"Something like that." grunts Jurgen as he stands and stretches. "How long were we out?"

He looks around, "Hmm... where are the Sarphidians?" Jurgen looks around for his shell. The ghale gets up and starts pacing. His stomach growls audibly and motes of light drift before his eyes. "Are we the last ones to wake up? Oi, what was in that beer last night?" Jugen sips the water and as his head clears and his stomach settles, he looks around for any githazeri or githyanki (but if he sees a mind flayer, he'll try to get everyone out of the room before it gets hungry ;) ).
 

Traore accept the water cup and take a sip before giving it back. "Where Meenah?" He starts to looks around, but he is unable to find her. He starts to be a little concern by her disapearance.
 

Andarin leaps up ... and then wishes he hadn't. "Oh, my head!" He reaches for Clareh's cup and drinks deeply. "Ah, that's better. Well, cutters, that was one wild dream." At Traore's question, he frowns and looks around. "Come to think of it, Meenah didn't appear in our dream, either. Where is she, now? And what happens next?"

Jumping off of the bed, Andarin looks around the room, taking note of who's still around - and who isn't. He moves quickly around the chamber, looking for Meenah and the other members of the party. If they're not in the room, he'll chivy the others along and start towards the far exit, then stop. Remembering Rhinnishar's fascination with the globe map, he'll dart up the stairs to check on that room before gathering up the rest of the party to search for their friends.
 

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