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Map, damaged wax cylinders, mage stuff found in "Th'et" nexus chamber

Daniel Saroff 09 Mar 2025 15:38
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Map and damaged wax cylinders found in "Th'et" nexus chamber

Map
Tactical ANALYSIS UNIT – REPORT 017-B
INPUT: CARTOGRAPHIC ANOMALY – ANALYSIS & INTERPRETATION

DATA SOURCE:

Medium: Analog-drawn map, aged parchment, non-standard symbols
Location of Discovery: Transmission Chamber – Unknown Origin
Map Composition: Encoded geographic markers, waveform indicators, numeric sequences
PRIMARY FINDINGS:

TRANSMISSION NODES DETECTED

Multiple points marked with ripple-like line patterns.
Ripple density suggests varying levels of signal activity.
Numeric sequences adjacent to ripples indicate possible frequency or intensity readings.
ANOMALY DETECTED – SOUTHERN COASTAL REGION

Identified region correlates to pre-historical geographic markers.
Projected Location in Contemporary Terms: The yet-to-be K’n Y’an swamp.
Offshore anomaly—ripple cluster with an unusually high frequency.
POSSIBLE TRANSMISSION HUB (HIGH ACTIVITY ZONE)

The coastal anomaly is centered on a paired set of islands.
Transmission density significantly higher than all other recorded nodes.
Indicators suggest ongoing or upcoming high-level coordination event.
HYPOTHESIS: "JANUARY CONCLAVE" LOCATION

Contextual cross-referencing with prior intelligence indicates:
A scheduled clandestine gathering, designated "January Conclave."
Key insurgent leader Eheral expected to be present.
Attendees: Unidentified high-ranking individuals. Purpose unknown.
RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION:

Strategic Interest: This island is a critical intelligence point.
Actionable Pathways:
Observation of the site prior to conclave.
Interception or infiltration to acquire intelligence.
Deployment of countermeasures if disruption is necessary.
END REPORT
LOGISTICAL ANALYSIS UNIT – TERMINATING SESSION

Damaged WAX cylinders

Putting them through both translation and tactical analysis comes up with the following:

REPORT 017-C

INPUT: WAX MESSAGE RECORDING ANALYSIS

DATA SOURCE:

Medium: Wax recording cylinders, dot-dash encoded transmissions
Condition: Severe heat damage, data corruption
Location of Discovery: Transmission Chamber – Unknown Origin
PRIMARY FINDINGS:

MESSAGE DECIPHERING – PARTIAL RECOVERY

Analysis of dot-dash sequences recovered fragmented but intelligible segments.
Content pertains to strategic military planning, logistics, and high-level coordination efforts.
TROOP MOVEMENTS & LOGISTICAL ACTIVITY

Multiple mentions of force mobilization, though unit designations unclear.
Reference to supplies moving "under night beyond the pale markers" (meaning unknown).
Mentions of "Reforging stations set upon the cold ridge" (potential assembly sites).
ENEMY TARGETS – WYRME FORCES IDENTIFIED

Designations include:
Vr’akhel Division (noted as "harrowing the river routes")
Ka’thirik Sentinels (associated with "proscribed watch upon the dead isles")
Ul’zhath (Wyrmish city)
HIGH-LEVEL STAFF TRANSFERS

Multiple orders concerning relocation of command personnel.
Phrase recovered: "Iron path must be crossed before return" (possible security protocol).
Mentions of "The Southern Isle is not for us", seemingly proscribing part of the twin islands.
JANUARY CONCLAVE CONFIRMATION

Clear reference to a "gathering in the tide".
Explicit mention of "paired islands divided—one forsaken, one where the hands meet."
Possible indication of covert assembly on the northern twin isle.
FORCE BUILDING & HARVESTING OPERATIONS

Partial phrases detected:
"From the veins, the might is drawn" (potential resource extraction).
"They grow where the fallen lie" (biological or magical implications unclear).
"When the call comes, the marrow will rise" (mobilization reference?).
TACTICAL RECOMMENDATIONS:

The twinned islands remain a key strategic location.
Southern island is potentially restricted or dangerous for the rebels themselves.
Intelligence suggests active enemy surveillance (Ka’thirik Sentinels).
Further investigation into "marrow rising" and resource harvesting advised.
END REPORT

Mage Stuff

Mage gear.

Spell book:

• Lighting 5 (7.5./3)
• Burning Hands 5 (2.5/3)
• Flame armor (3/6)
• Binding (3/5)
• Confusion (2/2)
• Armor 4 (4/2)
• Encompassing Vision (1/2)
• Enchant Boots (1/1)
• Farsee (2/1)
• Flash (1.5/1)
• Heal 4 (4/3)
• Levitation
• Librarian
• Mass enchant
• multi-missile 4 (4/3)
• Reflect missile (5/5)

Looking at the staff, E'gis realizes he has heard of it. It is called a Staff of Thunderstorms. It will take a lightning spell and splits it to hit up to 5 targets within 40 feet (there has to be direct LoS). For each person targeted, damage rolls are reduced by 1. ST 5d6 vs. Agility. So, targeting with a Lightning 2 (2d6+4) against five opponents would be (2d6+4) -5, i.e., if 7 is rolled on the 2d6, it would be 7+4 (11) -5 =6 points to every person. Obviously the higher stacking cast the better. It also has a 4 point power storing crystal imbedded - trying to remove would destroy the staff and have a good chance of damaging the crystal.

Also, 1 CLW and CMW (given to Brook).

Brook grabbed the short bronze sword from the mage

Re: Cormac Eavesdroppoing on the Eheral Encampment

Daniel Saroff 09 Feb 2025 18:03
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Cormac Eavesdroppoing on the Eheral Encampment

Mercer uses the translator to see if they could determine what "H'lotchnea" means. Reponse:

Query received. Processing

Analyzing phonetics
Detected potential proper name classification

Cross-referencing linguistic databases
Found 320 homophones across 189 cultures.

Insufficient context. Inflection and conversation tone required for precise determination.

Ambiguity level: high.
Recommend: further input.

Attack on the Runner and H'lotchnea 12/23/3421

Daniel Saroff 09 Feb 2025 18:00
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Attack on the Runner and H'lotchnea 12/23/3421

The unplanned battle was ultimately successful, while much tougher than many anticipated. The two H'lotchnea guarding the runner were tough adversaries and in the battle Mercer had her leg so badly damaged that it required regeneration (Brook gives Mercer her last regen potion), while Brook was knocked unconscious and almost lost her leg, and Telyth similarly almost lost a limb. Trigel managed to hold his own against his H'lotchnea, doing serious damage (ultimately killing one) and when he received the Fire Armor from E'gis, caused damage in the combat from his magical armor and ultimately caused the H'lotchnea maul to break. E'gis also used mass enchantment to help the party. And Binding to stop the fleeing runner (who ended up running into a tree). One of the H'lotchnea drew on an attack that caused it to flicker briefly before it released a dark light on Telyth and Brook that made them feel the 'funny bone' shock throughout their entire bodies ending all actions that round and impacting their initiatives for subsequent rounds.

The runner is worse for wear, but alive.

Due to the hurried nature of the attack by the party (originally planning to follow the runner and H'lotchnea to "Th'et") they were only about 1.5 hours from the encampment, so the party is concerned that the smoke rising from the trees (due to Telyth borrowing the unconscious Brook's lightning trident) and the sounds of lightning might (have) alerted the encampment to something being amiss.

DOES THE PARTY WISH TO STAY THERE OR PUSH SOUTH QUICKLY? If stay there, how long?

Mercer's sword confirmed that the (now unanimated) H'lotchnea were undead. However, unlike the Mordiggian undead in 'modern' CrescentLands who wore amulets to disguise themselves, these didn't have amulets. In death they look still like humans, even though they seem to be leaking 'blood' that is thinner and more serum. That is all that can be determined on a brief inspection. Do you choose to stay longer to inspect or move on.

E'gis you used a number of spells that you hadn't before - Fire Armor (pretty successful), Binding (1 fail/1 success), Mass Enchantment, Fly (from your crystal - you'll have to put it back in) 10.5 spell points used. Your experience points are on your sheet.

One had bronze scale where the scale were the size of thumbnails - seemed very tough. "Her" bronze, great axe is still intact. Also had an arbalist, bronze long knife, wetting kit,caltrops, ski wax, ski bindings and repair kit, rations, water, buckler, bedroll, flint tinder. The other was badly fire damaged and had the broken maul, buckler, damaged bronze chain (finely made), dual bronze punch blades, wetting kit, ski wax, ski bindings and repair kit, rations, water, buckler, bedroll, flint tinder.Both also have small bags filled with the (unfortunately) familiar red crystals.

The runner has a bronze long sword, 3 throwing spears, small wooden shield, camping supplies, food, wine, wetting kit, CLW potion, cleats for boots, ski repair and maintenance kits, candles.

Cormac Eavesdroppoing on the Eheral Encampment

Daniel Saroff 02 Feb 2025 20:42
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Cormac Eavesdroppoing on the Eheral Encampment

With a combination of his fly spell, and Mercer's silence, E'gis lands atop the rock down past the swell where the night guards are stationed. Cormac lands on the tent. The encampment has sentries along pacing along the palisades and some desultory movement in the compound with solders stepping outside their temps for a deep night piss. Scattered braziers give inconsistent constellations of light among the general darkness of the camp.
 
The crow, perched atop the great army tent, shifted its weight, feathers ruffling as the wind cut across the encampment. Its head tilted, keen eyes watching the faint glow of lanterns below, listening to the muffled voices that carried through the tent’s thick fabric. It heard and understood, a silent watcher, a vessel for secrets. The words, raw and tense, echoed in its mind, transmitted as whispers through the tether that bound it to its master.

Male Voice: “We haven’t heard back from the gathering and… uh… re-gathering party sent north to levy for the quartermaster. They are overdue by over a week on their return.”
Undetermined Voice: "Hrrmmm?"
Male Voice:  “Uh… we sent…um… some fast skiers to reconnoiter, and near the re-gathering town—just south of it—they…uh… found the…uh… remains of the levying party and some of the re-gatherers. But… the scouts had no idea what happened. The snows had covered much. No tracks, save for woodland animals.”
Female Voice, low and gravelly: "While He can wait an eternity, I cannot…"
Male Voice:  “Sorry…no… I mean… yes… they reached the town. Signs of battle. Levying and re-gathering activities. But… the people were there. All of them, for the most part. There was a large fire—possibly a pyre—outside the town. Signs of combat and fire damage. Traces of our levying forces.”
Female Voice, low and gravelly, laced with sarcasm: "And did your brave scouts assess and retrieve?"
Male Voice: "Yes and no. One entered under disguise. Asked about the remains to the south. They claimed brigands and Gloomrim orcs raided them. No knowledge of the bodies south—‘must have been caught by the raiders,’ they said."
Female Voice, low and gravelly, voice tightening: "But there is more… I can read it… my patience is a rapidly consumed taper."
Male Voice: "While one questioned, the others scouted. They found… something…um…uh… odd. A burn—partway up a tree. Woven branches and pine needles charred, but the trunk untouched. Scattered, heat-distorted re-gather crystals. Salt. Out-of-season herbs."
Female Voice, low and gravelly, slow and considering:"So… not the town. But… others. Yes? But what others… not the greenies."
Male Voice: (Firmly) "Not the greenies. Wrong season. Wrong methods. But…"
Female Voice, low and gravelly, suddenly sharp:*"But what? The—(a hiss)rumors from the west? From the city of the dead? Others. Interference. A hand showing itself… or the shadow of that hand?"
Male Voice: (Uneasy, hesitant) "I don't know… I'm not… privy to that…"
Female Voice, low and gravelly, an edge of command: "He must know. But She should know too. Something is akilter. I have felt it for weeks—like the feel of a storm on the ocean before the clouds gather, before the rain falls, before the waves stir. She must be made aware before the gathering."
Male Voice: "Uh…so…?"
Female Voice, low and gravelly: "Send a runner. With two H'lotchnea <the word foreign, unknown> to Th’et. I will personally pick the two best. Nexus the communication. Have them wait for Her response. I will wait for His. Tomorrow. Morning. Early. Make them strong. That town should have easily fallen to our men. We will search, we will find, we will listen. Something comes. Go."
Male Voice: "As you wish."
Male Voice: “…uh…And the town…?”
Female Voice, low and gravelly: (Measured, deliberate) “For now —nothing. But nothing… is just a short pause between somethings.”
Female Voice, low and gravelly, and almost lighthearted: "And don’t let this happen again, I have a certain fondness for you and would hate to see YOU gathered. And that pretty, pretty wife of yours… and don’t you have offspring?"

—The crow blinked. The transmission ended. Its master had heard all. And the night seemed to be stirring.

E'gis with his history knowledge, has an immediate sense of confusion, almost vertigo. 'Th'et? Th'et wasn't settled for another thousand years.As far as his records show, there isn't even a hamlet or a village there at this time. Though in modern times it would be south.'

Re: The Spirewall Heist

Cirlot 10 Nov 2024 02:55
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Spirewall Heist

Casing the Joint

The Marquise used her wing by either waving or touching her hand towards:

Touched hanb outside the rigth bottom door
Waved ring in the air in the Statuary Room: Known defense - Bronze Golem
Waved ring towards the Ceiling/Spiked Shield in Library: Suspected Defense - Illusion/Psychic Attack
Touched Hand to Stone Column - right hand side of door, left hand - staircase landing 3rd floor: Suspected Defense - ???
Gem room - right side of the door.
Touch hand on wall to the right of the door, Tapestry Room (upper right hand lamp): Suspected Defense - ???
Hand on door of Master Room/chamber (Skeletal Spider?)

Re: The Spirewall Heist

Cirlot 10 Nov 2024 01:06
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Spirewall Heist

Dream of Crimson 2

In the quiet depths of sleep, visions begin to form, hazy yet vivid, colors bleeding into shapes that pulse with an almost living energy. You find yourself floating in an endless black void, where faint glimmers of light flicker and pulse like distant stars. But they aren’t stars—they are strange waves, moving in perfect, eerie patterns, each pulsing with a rhythmic hum that resonates deep within you.

As you reach out to touch one of these waves, it recoils and splits, spiraling away, creating ripples that spread out into the darkness. More waves appear, rising from unseen origins, undulating in strange, chaotic patterns that seem to draw closer, wrapping around you in layers. Each wave brings a new sensation: pressure, heat, a strange metallic taste on the air. The energy hums louder, relentless, threatening to drown out your thoughts.

Suddenly, a faint light appears beside you—a sleek, mirrored device, almost like a crystal, glows with a quiet, steady warmth. It hums gently, resonating at a slightly different frequency than the waves around you. As it pulses, you notice the waves around it bending, reshaping themselves in response, creating a brief moment of harmony. You realize this object is reading the patterns, sensing their rhythm, mapping their energy, as if it holds the key to understanding and even countering them.

A whisper stirs in your mind: To find your way, you must mirror their flow, not resist it. Their rhythm can be countered, their pulse redirected. To pass, you must create a wave of your own.

The device pulses again, sending a faint wave out to meet the incoming energy, which bends and splits, its force softened as it flows around you. The harmony is brief but real, a moment of calm within the storm of energy.
The vision begins to fade, but the image remains imprinted in your mind: the waves, the device sensing and harmonizing with the energy, and the silent message lingering in your thoughts—A counter-wave must be born from understanding. Only then may the path become clear.

Re: The Spirewall Heist

Cirlot 10 Nov 2024 00:47
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Spirewall Heist

Dream of Crimson

In the darkness, sleep draws you into a world blurred and shimmering, colors melting and shifting in strange patterns. You find yourself drifting toward a great tower that stretches endlessly into a swirling, night-filled sky. The air pulses with something unseen, a breath of danger and mystery. As you approach, shadows whisper around you, though their words are fragmented.

A figure—its face hidden, a faint glow around its hand—steps through the doorway of the tower without pause. You feel drawn to their hand, to the glint of a ring, faint yet powerful, wrapped in gold and bone. The ring seems to pulse in time with your heartbeat, calming you even as the shadows stir. This figure moves with ease, untouched by the crackling haze, by the twisting fog that churns along the floors, thick with something almost alive.
Suddenly, the dream pulls you into the tower itself. Each step forward drags at your mind, a haze of colors spinning around you, dizzying and consuming, as if your thoughts themselves are being unraveled. Your body feels stretched, twisted, like being torn apart only to reassemble in the next step. But you see the figure with the ring moving ahead, unharmed, stepping through darkly glinting metal and stone figures standing guard—golems whose eyes glint with cold, merciless purpose.
You try to follow, but as you step, the golems turn their gaze upon you, their cold eyes piercing. The air grows heavy, pressing down, every inch of movement pulling pain through your skin. A mist rises, swirling in colors that burrow into your mind, stirring confusion and dread.

Just as the pain becomes unbearable, the figure with the ring vanishes into the shadows, leaving only the faintest whisper:

"Without this, none may pass. Those who walk without it shall wake no more."

With a shudder, you bolt awake, the whisper still echoing in your mind, the image of the ring—gold and bone, faintly glowing—imprinted in your memory.

Re: The Spirewall Heist

Cirlot 10 Nov 2024 00:46
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Spirewall Heist

Divination of The Vault:

The El's gaze turns distant as she stares into the bowl of dark, shimmering blood, fingers tracing slow, thoughtful circles along its edge. Her voice softens, carrying an otherworldly echo.

“A tower, spiraling into shadow and illusion, guarded by iron and bound by will. The dream speaks of one who holds a key of sorts—a circlet of gold and bone, worn close, unseen by those unworthy. It whispers of protection, a way to walk untouched where others might stumble and fall.”

Their fingers hover just above the blood's surface, drawing faint ripples.

“In the depths of this place, the senses warp, truth blurs. Strange figures stand watch, their eyes cold and unyielding, immune to mortal pleas. And there are sights, shapes that pierce the mind, twists of color and haze that seem to breathe, waiting to grasp at stray thoughts, to tangle and ensnare.”

The diviner’s voice grows softer, almost as if speaking to themselves.

“The ring… it is a promise of passage, a secret between the tower and its keeper. Those who seek it may find their way less treacherous, yet without it… the air will turn heavy, the path sharp with unseen barbs. Without this mark of trust, the tower may consume all who dare.”

The water stills, dark and silent. The diviner’s gaze returns, solemn and clouded.

“Take heed. The tower holds its secrets closely, and to enter without its favor is to risk fading into shadow.”

The Spirewall Heist

Cirlot 03 Nov 2024 00:24
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Spirewall Heist

Re: The Enchridium of El

Cirlot 28 May 2024 07:34
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Enchridium of El

125th Entry

349 SD, Imperial Year 1235 (1st Imperial Calendar)
"Omen" Doom/Caledon (Reaver's Deep 2412)

From above, the dead sphere Seeker had brought them to had ground through the aether like a procession of ash and dust, a tomb-world occluding the constellations lit pale and ruddy by the echo of flame that had once been a star. From the surface it stood worse: small as the star was, faint as it was compared it's brilliant kin the world's degrading orbit had dragged the ember close such that the dying cinder swelled to thrice the size of Loco Ottii's own sun in the sky and cast the ruined landscape horizon to horizon the color of flame. And blood. Had there been air to breathe it would have been as the desert, or so the ships readings said; hot enough and dry enough to have ripped the water from El's lungs.

As it was, the world stood on the other side of sapphire glass with El and her captain watching things crawl, shambolic and blind, in the shadow of the Cirya's landing.

***

"Is this supposed to be another lesson?"

"No. Yes." Seeker blinked once. Twice. Three times. As near a self effacing laugh as the wyrm could manage and the captain shook their head once, the motion borrowed from El but never quite mastered, the easy shift of the elf's neck turned stiff and precise by Seekers anatomy. Seeker had said the motion made them faintly dizzy when they had learned it, years ago, but now …

But now, even as they blinked disquiet at the sensation, they offered it out to the merchant as … something. Apology. Camaraderie? An olive branch after the weeks gone by, the churning starfalls from system to system towards this hellish place as though it answered the broken thing between them.

"It is. More. Less. It is - " another blink, slower.

"Warning?" the uncertain timber of Seekers voice was punctuated by a testing flick of their tongue. "No. A thing to be. Experienced. Not known." Turning from the viewing glass Seeker lowered their head, crests falling as they shrank into themself until they were only but a full head and hand taller than El.

"Apologies. This place. Unsettles."

"I can't imagine why." For all the sharpness in El's tongue, there's no venom and it's with a sigh that she leans forward and presses a hand against the sapphire. The things far below in the shadow of the ship, of the valley don't react and lurched randomly in spasmodic arrhythmic, multi-pedal motions, rigor making the compound limbs stiff and the myriad mouths idiot rictus grins.

"They look like …"

"Weapons. They are automata. Of the Charnel One's make. Fighting a war long lost."

"So that's the point? Scare the godtouched simpleton into obedience on account that this is what happens if Morrdiggian wins?" the steel was there now, and the feeble rapprochement between them fractured under the weight of El's furious stare. Then Seeker barked, a huff of air between the cheeks and tongues, crests shaking with a sudden spasm and blinked and blinked again. Not the mirthful laughter of the eyes they had known between friends but something bleak and morbid. A chuckle by way of a death rattle.

"Win, Qenna? No. Here. Here the Charnel One. Lost."

***

Seeker would not explain themselves, no matter how El harangued or argued. Not when they left the ship nor when they trekked across the blasted sands crawling with centipedal scorpions of acid and bone and dried sinew. Nor when they passed the cemetery fields and their inchoate, desiccated ghuls feeding upon each other for want of corpses. Not even in the aftermath of the cthonian flesh groves - Seeker simply shrugged an insisted they press on as dead flesh burned, what little anima that released at long last to ash. By the time the party arrived at the ruins El had long since ceased her questions and instead merely witnessed.

Walking through the crumbled stones, she noted their pass passing innumerable echoes of the city's former denizens; frozen silhouettes, burned into the walls in a perpetual shadowplay of some life long forgotten. She studied the sprawling streets that made the dancing grounds of Aerelous seem quaint in scale, the sculptural spires that even worn down by dust would make the architect-growers of Ereth Cinlu weep for jealousy. She attended the silence as they pressed on, passing through what was more the absent memory of a place than the place itself. All the way to the tower, she witnessed.

And then began the climb.

***

She had been facing west, and ebon silhouette against the setting sun. Framed now, forever, a shadow burnt into the tower's stone looking out across the remains of a bone dry sea. The Omen star watching, gloaming red and gold where it hung just above the horizon like a great, lidless eye.

El stood in the space between those gigantic, shadow wings and fought back something that might have been a sob. Perhaps a laugh. Whatever it was the despair of it caught in her throat before it birthed true sound and only the static his of the aethertalker's auto-vox offered testament that she had made sound at all. With a whisper-crackle, Seekers voice was conjured to El's ear.

"Qenna. Do you understand?"

"What? What is the point here, Seeker? Yes, I understand. You're quite godsdammned clever. The opposite of undeath is death, so even in failure there is victory - "

"Failure?" something in Seekers voice grows sharp. Frustrated.

"This. Was not. Failure."

"They did this. Not Morrdigian. Not us. They. She - " Seeker pointed a gloved talon to the shadow on the floor between them.

"DID. This. They - ERASED - themselves. Qenna."

"Rather than become. The playthings. Of the Charnel One. Rather than be. Denied. The blessing. Of Endings."

"They burned themselves. From existence. They made themselves. Forgotten. And what is death. But that?"

The words came, a heaving staccato that El once would have translated as anger but understood to be something else. Something urgent and true. Almost pleading, or as near a thing the wyrm had ever managed.

"This. Is all. Morrdigian fears."

"And that gives us power? Gives their sacrifice meaning? I - " El threw up her hands. " - I don't understand."

"The world. Is still. Here. They. Were still. Here. Even if. No-one remembers." Seeker spoke slowly. Calmly. As though each word were a gem to be weighed and shown, until all the facets of it were visible to the hearer.

"Our foe. Does not understand. This. He mistakes. The teller. For the tale."

"But what does that matter if - " El's objection is cut off with a hiss. A command to attention rarely used but no less potent for it.

"It matters. Because. He is blind. They. ALL. Are blind. The quantum. Personas. The waveforms. You call. Gods. Are of. The same. Mortal dross. As we. They are bound. To the same world. As we. And they. Are too weak. Too. Limited. To live. Knowing. They must. Die."

"Tell me. Qenna. Was this a beautiful. City?" the question startles El, and the surprise of it shocks her into honesty. Even with the weight of the loss, the grief of the place and the monstrous war machines that lurch in the fields beyond, she knows her answer.

" … aye. Was and is. Even knowing what was lost."

"To them. It is only. And ever. Just. a Ruin." El can hear the smile, sad and slow and serpentine in Seekers voice. "It is why. We fight. And how. We win."

"To them. The end. Is ashes. To us? We are more. Than the strange dust. Of which we are made."

Re: The Enchridium of El

Cirlot 19 May 2024 01:05
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Enchridium of El

108th Entry

133 SD Satakei, Imperial Year 1235 (1st Imperial Calendar)
Deep Ort Rann/Narquel (Diaspora 0206)

One by one, false stars blinked into existence across the aether horizon, their witchgates wicking up and burning space itself in final conflagrations of hate and eldritch fire. Seeker had told her once how space and time worked, how the light of foreign suns traveled and how the night sky was a history written in shadows and time; this victory would be remembered so, a story told in new constellations blazing bright in night skies, illuminating distant shores centuries hence in some far off yonder.

Yet here, now, their victory tasted of ash and cast only shadows.

Sighing, El turned from the glazen portal and back to their prize. Tracing the embossed glyphs, running from edge to edge to edge of the central sigil glowing with a soft amber weirlight, she translated the title yet again into each language she knew, the answer impossibly, inevitably coming out the same.

With a reluctant hand, El opened the Codex of the Black Sun to the first page and began to read …

***

"YEARS Seeker! Three godsdamned years and a half dozen crew and - " The Wyrm's crest shuddered, a flinch at El's invocation and her trail thrashed uncomfortably. Seeker opened her mouth to speak, tongue tasting the air in a moments deliberation only to be interrupted by the tome flung into her midsection. Solid as the wyrm was the impact elicited only a grunt and a pained hiss of impatience at her ward.

" - and for what? Lives and treasure and toil and those empty-headed, clay-fingered, water-sucking tentacle fondling cultists didn't. even. worship. Morrdigian." El bit the words as she spoke, stalking the length of Seekers captain and pointing at Seeker, at the tome, accusingly.

"Unless I misunderstood the bargain the Charnel one was why I was brought here, that was the bargain Seeker not chasing - " El flung a hand towards the dark outside, the impossible color beyond the glass of the space between spaces as the Aethership leapt between stars. The gesture takes something from her and the cleric sags, fury sublimating into fatigue with the space of a word. " - madmen and dreamers."

"It had been. Years. Qenna. And you still. Do not. Understand." Seeker shook their head, the accusation not angry so much as sad.

"Madness has not. One name. Morrdigian is but one. Profanation. Of reality." Seeker rose from her haunches, bringing themselves to their full height and stepped forward, putting a heavy, gentle hand upon El's shoulder.

"If the good. We have done. Does not reckon. Upon your ledger. Then mark this." Seeker paused, eyes blinking and then blinking again, a faint flush of coloration shifting across their scales as she transitioned her role within their hierarchy of two from "captain" to "friend." Or as near as such as the Wyrm might manage. Then she speaks slowly, calmly, like one might to a child.

"Horror has more than one face. Just as His Ghuls are. But fractions. Of Morrdigians hole. So is he. Just one eidolon. One collapsed waveform. Of the improbability that lurks beyond. The Outer Dark." Then the hand gives El's shoulder a squeeze, razor talons pircking at skin hard enough to feel but not enough to hurt. Ever and always with the kid goddamn gloves.

"We fight. The insanity at the center. Of all things."

"We train you. Not to fight A God, Qenna. We train thee. To fight all gods. So that you can use. Their own weapons. Against them."

El Put her hand on Seekers claws, gave it one tired affectionate pat before looking up at the Wyrm and shaking her head.

"That wasn't the deal, Seeker." Pushing the hand away, El stepped back. It's not anger that clouds her feature but the self same frustration Seeker knew, bone deep, at the chasm between them. Godtouched. In the wyrmish tongue it was a curse. In her own, in every other tongue she knew, a blessing.

"Not with Mercer. Not with Me. I'm not a weapon in your GodsWar, Seeker. I was supposed to be learning how to build, not - " outside, beyond the starfall false stars burned as space itself died. By her hand. By their hand. To stop something horrible, true. But … she could not count the lives. So help her, in Galinthe's name, her ledger, her ledger now stood so far beyond the black that it bled the color of rust and Crimson. And she knew not the number.

" - whatever it is we've done."

Seeker blinked once, then twice, then settled onto her haunches again until her serpent-slit eyes were level with El's and her crest had gone from furled to folded; the mark of their clan and caste and rank tucked away.

"I could say. That to build. With us. You must understand. us. Which is true. But that is not why. You are here. It's not even. To keep your God's. Touch - " Seeker separates the word, teasing apart the oath on her tongue into harmless words. The first time they'd ever done so. " - from tainting. Our. My - " another blink at the correction. " - World."

"That is not why."

"You are here, Queena. To learn. What is. At stake. If we lose. And what it may cost. To win."

Re: Sage Adventure - Group Treasure

Tom Scammell 06 May 2024 18:36
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Sage Adventure - Group Treasure

Here is an outdated list of Party Loot carried by E'gis:

20' silk rope
Wyrmish Leather pouch of protection & hardness (magic) (T)
3 mushroom of healing (d3).
1 Ethereal potion
0 Raise Dead potion
3 No Air potions
30 Larens leaf
30 Gar’s moss
1 kor (stimulant)
4 Morton bloom poultice (regen limbs)

E'gis also has Eheral’s Spellbook which contains:
Feather Fall
Shield
Dark Walk
Prot Normal Missiles
Comprehend Lang
Detect Magic
Tongues
Multimissile I
Magic Missile 1
Flame Rope 2
Unseen Servant
Burnings Hands 2
Levitate
Tether
Heal 4

And this is from Adelard's Party list:
copper clasp with winged horse, with red hair (probably belonged to Eheral who had red hair)
Amulet with head of Mordigian
3 Dragon scale
2 gal Dragon blood, some dragon sinews
3 Dragon teeth (200 lb ivory)
2 Dragon claws, frills
2 enumerator scrolls
Silver bowl for holy water (6/15 marks left)

(I expect some of these thigns may have been sold)

Sage Adventure - Group Treasure

Daniel Saroff 05 May 2024 02:15
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Sage Adventure - Group Treasure

Party stuff (indicate who is carrying it)

Crecent Lands Circa 3423

Cirlot 27 Apr 2024 23:13
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Crecent Lands Circa 3423

Re: The Enchridium of El

Cirlot 27 Apr 2024 20:57
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Enchridium of El

49th Entry

247 SD, Imperial Year 1233 (1st Imperial Calendar)
Starfall, Enroute Red Sands/Alun (Daibei 1406)

"There is no pattern. Here. Quenna." Seeker's tongue flicked impatiently, the closest thing the wyrm ever came to a human sigh. "You seek. Reason. From madness. Planar deviancy. Knows no logic. See - " one heavy taloned hand lifted, traced the lines of bloodied crimson in the phatasmal image.

" - these? Serve no purpose. It is. Wasted ritual. Neither leyline. Nor arcanic. Channel. Horror. without purpose."

Across the table, El frowned through the suspended image. Images. The record crystals projected phantasmic illusions in the space between them. A half dozen images taken from a half dozen worldets, stations and ships, stored externally in amber because there were limits even to what the wyrms seercasters would suffer remembrance of.

In the end they had counted the limbs after all. All of them. Every time.

El shook her head once, frustration breaking in a scowl across her features.

"'Tis hubris to foreswear sense in madness. Madness still reasons, it just reasons differently." That earned another tongue flick from Seeker.

"So says. The godtouched." El could almost hear the smirk-slash-sneer in Seekers voice. Her faith was a point of gentle mockery at the best of times and after three days pouring over these images …

"Enough. I have duties. To attend. If you must continue. With this - " Seeker's tail twitched as they turned and ducked out of El's quarters. " - reasoning. Be swift. Or be done. Star-rise is in twelve and ten."

===

El slumped back in her seat, rubbing her eyes. Hours gone. Days gone, in truth, and nothing. For all her certainty that there was a message in the ruined lives they'd witnessed she could not find it. It matched no divine summoning or incantation she knew of and Seeker had scuttled her hopes of an arcane ritual.

But it was too purposeful, too deliberate to be mere slighter. A head. A limb. An entrail drawn just so and …

El swore, the absence of revulsion at the images before her turning her stomach. Throwing an arm across the table the crystals scattered, the images above scattering like flung parchments as the stones skittered and collided. Gods, perhaps Seeker was right. The task was hard enough without wallowing the the remains of it. The K'yan had been less fetid, less rotten than this.

Standing she moved to collect the records but froze as her head came up and she saw saw two of the records. In the scattering their phantasmic projections had overlapped, the projections flipping and layering on top of each other along an unfamiliar edge. Overlaid like this, oriented like this, the blood trail snaked between the corpses like a river. Like a route. A trade route. One she had seen … if that was the Imperial Highroad then that was Azer which would make that Jurin and …

El flung herself to the door of her quarters, leaning out of the hatchway and shouting into the common hall, all reservations forgotten.

"Seeker! Send word for the Astropath! And bring star charts!"

Re: The Enchridium of El

Cirlot 25 Apr 2024 06:46
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Enchridium of El

41st Entry

178 SD, Imperial Year 1233 (1st Imperial Calendar)
Skara/Edge (Daibei 0707) - Deep Ort Mining Station "Haugur"

"SLeEpERdReAMsUNDyinG-!" the thing screamed across the vacuum via some unholy aethertalker, it's toothed beak thrashing wildly behind the helm of the multi-limbed suit that turned it's flailing tentacles into armored, pincered centipedes that hammered against the shield spell holding it at bay. Metalic talons clawed, tearing at the arcanic threads and making the unspace between them shudder - distortion rippling being itself and leaving El gasping, nauseous in her helmet.

" - dYiNGBeYOnDdEATH: DREAMERWaKEsWAkESWAKE.WAKE.WAKE - !" it burbled, gills heaving with the effort of sound as it punctuated it's incantation with strike after strike after strike …

"'Ere you wake, first you ought f'cking rest- " El braced the shield spell with the brazen market staff like a myrmidon barring the door to their charged bastion. Reaching for her holy symbol with one frantically free'd hand she incanted a miracle, bargaining her prayers faith for intercession as on the other side of the shield a force punched through the membranous veil of reality. Galinthe's own cudgel slammed into the space-squid from behind, shattering the faceplate against rough rock of the abandoned tunnel. The unholy shrieking stopped as the thing inside froze and boiled, air, water and ichor bleeding in churning vapor droplets from the remains of it's face out into the aether.

Reality snapped back with the dying, ripples in the pond of being fading into the still abyss, leaving the cleric heaving unsteady breaths, shaking inside the armor that kept the Nothing at bay.

===

"How many?" El sighed as she tried to count the remains in the barracks.

"Twelve and five. On the roster. Bodies - " Seeker's features were more inscrutable than normal behind the faceplate of their helmet. Her head turned, brushing against the low hewn ceiling and pipes of the station as she took in the … pieces. " - indeterminante. It will take time. To count limbs."

There's a hitch in El's breath she hopes isn't audible on the comms. Shutting her eyes against the flash frozen abattoir that once had been home to …

"Don't bother. Gather the bodies. I'll pyre them." something twists in her face, wrings her hands but both are stilled by the suit. Trapped. Protected. Contained against what lurked just beyond. She knows Seeker's objection before they say it and cuts them off.

"'Tis a miracle. They shall burn without air." a tiny shrug as she reaches down and grabs an hand. Tiny. Half the size of hers.

"No god worth the name would allow this tresspass to linger"

Re: The Enchridium of El

Cirlot 23 Apr 2024 07:30
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » The Enchridium of El

37th Entry

115 SD, Imperial Year 1233 (1st Imperial Calendar)
Sundown/Edge (Daibei 0805)

El stood amidst a miracle - or an abomination - a myriad array of ledgers and contracts conjured from light, phantasmic sigils conveying information but lacking permanence, changeable despite Cirin's blessings; aehtric shadows dancing beneath her touch as she chased another miracle. The creation of wealth from nothing.

" … the local exchange favors our notes over yours, I'm afraid. That means for this - " El reached out, highlighted a line of the Cirya's ledger, 1000 Wyrmish Marks, 1728 Imperial kCreds vanishing from her accounting and appearing in the air between them, leaving the lupine merchant captain squinting unpleasantly at the figure while she spoke. " - it will come to three weights of palladium, the black-diamond silks and the crate of radioactives - " the word was strange to her tongu even after a score of negotiations, a tripping stumble of syllables that bore none of the solemnity the subject demanded. But Seeker had not agreed with her nomenclature and so 'radioactives' they remained.

El still thought "death rocks" was a perfectly fine name.

The trader shifted on their digitigrade legs, arms folding and ears flicking in what El guessed was irritation. She'd not traded with this species before but beneath the growls and the bluster wolves were wolves, be they on four legs or two. Absent it's pack …

A curl of the lip offered a hint of fang and a narrowing of the eyes stayed El's invoice.

"Information." The merchants words were a gruff interjection, half throat half teeth. The tradetalk was almost unintelligible beneath the growl.

"Have information: better trade?" El let a placid mask of indifference settle on her face - or hoped she did, with naught but Seeker and their Creche for company she had little cause to guard her expression. It was not, as she had first thought, that she was opaque to them. It was that wyrms simply did not care. For a race who hid themselves away in the footnotes of time they held precious little for subterfuge. Then again, why should they? Subterfuge was for those who lacked the means to force their will upon the world and what was their magic but will made manifest, their plasms their will made flesh?

Shaking aside the thought she lifted her hand to the trader, palm up. An invitation to present his case.

"Deshret."

El blinked once. Then whistled two tones, sharp, then low. Beneath the shadow of the merchant stall the market pole thrummed in response as enchantments unfurled. The bonded slave-serpent wove itself into being out of sunlight and shade and scampered over to it's master. Half translucent and phantasmal, it was something less than a Wyrm but more than a lizarman - reptilian, winged, clawed, in stature to El what El was to the Wyrms themselves. "Droy'na - " the summon reacted to it's name, unfocused eyes snapping to attention on El's face.

" - Bargained well and done, Captain. 1200 Crowns. My djinnplasm can handle arranging the loading and customs arrangements, if you follow me to my Captain we can discuss this further … "

***

"Rumor." Seeker-of-Spheres gnawed on some sort of fried meat that smelled unpleasantly of fat and warmingly of spices. From her perch on the animascope El's nibbled on some sort of stuffed bun, filled with herbs and fungi. And cheese. From . . something. Maybe spiders? The translation hadn't been clear.

"First lead in months - " El's exasperated sigh was cut off by Seeker, mid point-by-bun.

"Rumor. And you overpaid. For it."

"I invested in it - " El enunciated the wyrmish slowly. Forcefully. The same way they had tried teaching her a year ago, like speaking to a child.

" - let's say the rumor's a bust - " that earned a double eyeblink and El backtracked from the idiom. " - that the rummor is so much bronzed clay. We're no worse off than we were before and the Captain will crow in every dockside tavern or inn about how he cheated the Concordant of Wyrms of their lucre for some measly words. And then the word spreads. And then all the brokers and all the rakes in all the bars in all the systems within a half score starfalls from here will be asking after our quarry."

"Maybe some enterprising agent finds actual legit word. Or the one's were hunting find out, get spooked and make a mistake when they silence the good captain in an attempt to protect themselves."

"Either way we have more than we did, and our odds go up."

"Many ifs. Qenna."

El nodded, settling back into the lean against the console and watching the port life bustle below her, a dozen score races she'd never known nor could now name tinted blue by sapphire glass going about the business of being alive.

"Yes, but - " another double blink and a shrug cut El off.

"Clever. Reckless. But clever."

"Not reckless when it's not my money."

"Some. Would say. More." El laughed at that, threw upa hand, fingers skyward in surrender.

"Point! Point. Fine, I was reckless. But I got us a lead. Now will you actually tell me why we're looking for these 'Servants of the Red Crown?'"

New, near final, proposed 5th Level Miracles

Daniel Saroff 21 Apr 2024 22:38
in discussion Rules / Discussion » New, near final, proposed 5th Level Miracles

Miracle Name: Aegis of Faith

Level: 5

Creates a shimmering shield around the cleric or a chosen ally, granting temporary added evasion points and hit points equal to half the cleric’s and, if the cleric's AC is higher, gives them the cleric’s AC.

Duration: 1 minute.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: Touch.
Speed: Medium
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Blade Barrier

Level: 5

Barrier of whirling blades 20’ high x60' long. Can not encircle. Max curve is 180 degrees. Cannot be cast over water. 5d8 damage. Force ST to break through. 3 melee +3 per level after 8th.

To time missile fire to pass through the blades, must successfully hit AC 12 from EITHER SIDE of the barrier.

Duration: See above.
Saving Throw: See above.
Range: 40 foot distance and see above.
Speed: Medium
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Cure Critical Wounds

Level: 5

Cured 3d8+3 of damage

Duration: Instant.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: Touch.
Speed: Medium
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Damnation

Level: 5

Curse a creature within the 100’ range causing it to feel the full weight of its past misdeeds and failures. The target must make a Magic saving throw. On a failed save, it takes d8 damage for 4-6 melees and is overwhelmed with feelings of guilt and despair, granting advantage on being hit. (+2 hit).

Opposite (apotheosis) causes damage to undead.

Duration: 6 melee.
Saving Throw: Magic on 6d6.
Range: 100 feet.
Speed: Medium
Ingredients: N/A.

Miracle Name: Death Ward

Level: 5

A Cleric can ward one target for 8 hours, during which time the first time the target is reduced to 0 hit points or fails a save and would die, instead of being slain, they are reduced to 1 hit point with no blood loss.
Duration: 8 hours.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: Touch.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A.

Miracle Name: Divine Guardian

Level: 5

Summons a divine spirit to aid the cleric and their allies in battle. The guardian fights alongside the party.

Fights as a fighter of half the cleric's level. Init +4. Damage 1d8+2. AC 8. Evasion Points (2/3rds cleric). HP of the clerics.

May be used by the caster to partially block blows for half damage for themselves or someone else (but it can’t fight when doing this), and will take damage from the partially blocked blows.

Duration: 1 minute + 3 melee per level after 8th.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: 100 foot distance but must be in LoS.
Speed: Medium
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Grand Blessing

Level: 5

Works for hand held and missile attacks +2 +2 +10% and +1 saving throws. Works even if people are already in combat.

Duration: 1 minute.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: 100’radius.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A.

Miracle Name: Greater Miracle

Level: 5

Allows a cleric to duplicate a Miracle 4th or below OR use one they didn’t pray for.

Duration: N/A.
Saving Throw: N/A
Range: N/A feet.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A.

Miracle Name: Faith of the Martyr

Level: 5

The casting cleric immediately restores miracle levels, or spell points, or health quote to a creature (or themselves) up to their level. For every spell point/level regained the cleric will lose 1d6+1 evasion point from their MAXIMUM evasion point total (i.e., reducing their maximum evasion points). They may choose how many to recover.

This prevents the cleric from casting this, taking damage, and then healing it with a cure spell. Maximum evasion points return at a rate of the Cleric's level per day.

Duration: N/A.
Saving Throw: N/A
Range: Touch.
Speed: Fast
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Raise Dead

Level: 5

Cleric will be at 1 HP for a week and must make a Magic ST on 6d6 to stay conscious. Must be cast within 15 minutes of death plus 15 minutes after 8th level.

Duration: N/A.
Saving Throw: See above.
Range: Touch.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Reckoning

Level: 5

Unleashes a wave of holy energy that damages undead and fiends (5d8), while bolstering the resolve of allies (+1+1+5%) and advantage on saving throws (-1). Damage is instant. Resolve 5 melee. Undead clerics may use this against the living

Duration: See above.
Saving Throw: 5d6 against Magic for half damage.
Range: 100’ with AoE of 40’ diameter.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A

Miracle Name: Regeneration

Level: 5

Works like the potion. Takes about 5 minutes to regenerate a limb.

Duration: N/A.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: Touch.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A.

Miracle Name: Succor

Level: 5

2x recovery of spell points or HQ or half time miracle recovery.1 person lasts one day usable on one person only up to 2x time / week.

Duration: 1 day and see above.
Saving Throw: N/A.
Range: Touch.
Speed: Slow
Ingredients: N/A.

Miracle Name: Sunbeam

Level: 5

Either 1 blast of 6d8, 2 blasts of 3d8 or 3 blasts of 2d8 (released every 5 counts of initiative).

Cleric summons a coruscating lance of holy radiance that strikes out at a single target within 75 feet. This light is treated as true sunlight for vampires or other creatures affected by natural light and inflicts double damage on the undead. For examples, a cleric declares they use a single beam, in which case it'll go on the cleric’s initiative or declare a multibeam attack, in which case the caster will cast their first beam on their rolled initiative, their second beam on initiative -5 (like a bowshot) and then a potential third beam at -10.

Duration: N/A.
Saving Throw: Agility on 5d6.
Range: 75 feet.
Speed: Medium
Ingredients: N/A.

Remaining Ship's Inventory

Daniel Saroff 21 Apr 2024 00:12
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Remaining Ship's Inventory

Having considered that, I think we could sell:

50 blown glass vials and containers (varying sizes)
50 yards southland silk
100 yards cotton fabric
50 yards woolen fabric
200 lbs furs
200lbs of fine leather
Dye (dried) 30 lbs
Spices

200lbs smoke weed
1 kilo black and white lotus - (What's this for?)
25 pounds varying sized fish hooks
50 pints honey
50 pints maple syrup
Scrimshaw 50 lbs

300 feet rope
50 35 handmade mirrors
30 stylus and wax tablets
Pewterware (dishes, forks, spoons, knifes) —200 150 lbs
30 knives
20— 10 short swords
20 10 long swords
10 5 — 1 g. swords
10— 2 maces
10 1 g. maces
100 caltrops
50 35 pounds tinware
5 3 bulls eye lanterns
3 painter boxes
4 1 portal writing desks
3100 sheets of paper / 100 vellum
4 2 suits of chain
6 suits of leather
3 1 suits of banded
Shields s/m/l 8/4/3
10 lbs raw mother of pearl
50 lbs of marbles
4 jewelry boxes
1 sets of smithing tools (including portable anvils)
30 lbs in semi precious stones
.5- kg gold in 50 gm ingots
1 kg silver in 50 gm ingots
2 kg coper in 100 gm ingots

Re: Snake Jazz Lounge

Daniel Saroff 19 Apr 2024 19:31
in discussion Meeting Summaries / Aethership » Snake Jazz Lounge

Propose what you would like to buy for the ship and how much money you have left and we can see what we can do.

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