The Ganoltir Project Forum

Grozzuk looked up from his thoughtful pondering, glancing back at where Cinder and Lorion were looking, seeing the form of the Tiefling, taking a few moments longer than the others to recognize him but some things about his face and walk seemed very familiar. "Gamil? Who is this?" He said calmly, a hand very slowly reaching for his weapon.

"Didn't give his name," the goblin shrugs. "Said he was looking for the library."

Gamil turns back to the strange, disoriented tiefling. "And here we are. Now what were you wantin'?"

As the goblin finishes, Damocles executes an elegant sweeping bow. "Hail and well met. I am called Damocles, a Paladin of the Lady Moxara, goddess of peace." The words tumble from his mouth before he even thinks them. Even as he blinks in surprise, however, he knows they feel right. Straightening, he glances at the occupants of the room. Hmmm...a fair dryad...with...horns like a tiefling? The goblin from before. A high elf...archer? mage?. The dragonborn looks to be some sort of warrior. An interesting group.

The tiefling raises his hands, palms forward. "Though I am a warrior, I come bearing no arms or armor and mean no harm. I was told by an acolyte of this temple that it was important I meet someone here, so I ask: Do you goodfolk know me?"

"Do I... know you," Gamil echoes, staring the tiefling up and down. He shakes his head tentatively, though deep down something strikes him as incredibly familiar.

"No. I don't."

"I'm... not sure," Cinder says quietly, more to herself than anyone else. She sees the man before her, an apparently noble and honorable servant of peace. Despite his claims and lack of weaponry, however, she cannot shake a feeling of dread that she feels when looking upon him. Why do I feel so... scared? Is it just that he is a tiefling? Have we met in the past?

Damocles' slight smile falters at the lack of recognition coming from the others, but he quickly brings it back. "Then...perhaps I have misinterpreted things. It may be mine place to assist you in your own purpose and not the other way 'round."

Lorion shakes his head at the tiefling's question of knowing him, although he feels the uncertainty gnawing at the back of his mind. Why do I feel such a sense of familiarity? Perhaps I've seen someone similar at a market or something.

"This acolyte you mentioned... may we speak with her?" the elf asks, eager to clear the air of some of this uncertainty. "Maybe she'll be able to explain this to us."

Nodding to the elf, Damocles continues, "I can retrace my steps and try to find them again. I don't believe I have spoken with anyone else here, present company excluded, of course." He begins to turn away, but hesitates. "Apologies, but I do not yet know what to call each of you. May I know your names, perchance?"

"Softstep," the goblin offers, saying no more.

Grozzuk grunted and looked the Tiefling up and down. "Grozzuk." He said simply and stepped forwards, removing his hand from his weapon.

Cinder frowns as her name is asked, once more remembering the events that caused her to lose her true name. With a bit of a somber tone, she replies, "you can call me Cinder."

Lorion cocks his eyebrow as the mysterious tiefling asks for their names, still unsure whether or not to trust him. Deciding to oblige the man, he replies, "You may call me Lorion. Now lead the way so that we may meet this acolyte."

Despite the ripples of uncertainty surrounding their new acquaintance, the group pokes around the temple, looking for the acolyte who might be able to shed light on their situation. However, the young man is nowhere to be seen, and each new hall and room the party sees holds a little less anticipation than the one before. The door to the catacombs is closed, and the people in the temple remain absorbed in the time-consuming tasks you've already seem them working at.

It begins to occur to the group that they may have found as many threads of the mystery as are available here.

Gamil stays wary as they move through the temple, looking for the acolyte that the strange tiefling had mentioned. Is he lying to us?

Eventually, the goblin sighs and shakes his head. "Don't want to stay here longer. Might get trapped in whatever space this is," he suggests, hooking a thumb back toward the entrance. He turns to Damocles. "I guess the real test is to see if you get stuck on this side of that... hole, or not."

"Yes," Cinder responds, Gamil's words reminding her of the odd realm they find themselves in. To be trapped in such a place... how awful. "We should leave soon. Perhaps this temple is nearby, and we can visit it genuinely."

"Agreed. Besides, this much exposure to such raw mana can't be good over too long," the elf says, eager to return to the realm where he wasn't treated as a ghost. Let's just hope we already haven't been exposed to too much.

Bracing themselves, the party steps out of the temple, and into the harsh sunlight outside. Soon, their steps take them back to the Anomaly. It appears smaller than before, though still large enough to pass through easily.

Back on the other side, the party can breathe easy again. The overbearing intensity of the world beyond the Anomaly is gone, and none of you seem to be any worse for the wear. It does not take long for you to find yourselves on the outskirts of Rhapsody again.

[sblock=Everyone]I'd like to try something going forward where you have more rein to direct the game. You can enter the town and talk to people, and other similar things without asking, unless you're going to ask questions you don't know the answer to. I'll be around and chime in or take over as appropriate.

It's just felt sort of awkward and railroady trying to handle scene transitions so far, and I'm hoping we can find something that feels more equal or natural.[/sblock]
[sblock=Damocles]It was disappointing not to see the Acolyte again, but once you pass through the portal, you feel a weight dragging on your belt. Reaching back, you find a brass candle among your things. Near the base is an inscription that reads, "When shadows press in, hold me aloft to light your way."[/sblock]

Once the group makes their way through the Anomaly, Gamil turns to Damocles. "So, it's true, then." He takes a deep breath, happy to have the crushing feeling gone. "You're from our world."

Grozzuk gave an over-embellished sigh of relief at being back in the real world, stretching and breathing in the air he was used to. "Ahah! We're back out. And just as I was starting to become antsy being in the presence of such immense magic." He laughed heartily and looked to the rest of his party, before looking back at Damocles, coming to the same conclusion that he also came from here.

Damocles rolls his shoulders and stretches, reveling in the lifted aura of oppression that had hung over him. As he looks out across the outskirts, he hears Gamil's comment. "Aye, Softstep. I truly meant my words. I did not mislead nor do I intend any harm to your party. While I still don't understand what happened to me, I was told to find your group by an acolyte, whom I am beginning to feel was a divine messenger from Lady Moxara. If you all would allow, I would like to journey with you for a time. I am certain I could prove...useful."

As he finishes speaking, Damocles reaches down to his belt, seeking the familiar rest of his sword hilt. As he remembers that his weapon has been missing since waking in the strange temple, his fingers instead brush across a metal shape. Pulling it from his belt, Damocles wrinkles his brow in confusion at the brass candle and its cryptic engraved inscription. Then, he simply nods to himself. This is no accident. Moxara is guiding me in this.

Cinder breathes deeply a few times as soon as she exits the... place they'd been before. That feeling, it is so intense. It is so much like the Brambles, she thinks to herself. Trying not to let that thought linger too long, she instead turns her attention towards Damocles.

"They told you to... seek us out? By name?" Cinder asks. Who knows of our plight enough to send someone to us? Could someone be spying on our movements? She starts to shake a little, and grips her staff more tightly for comfort.

And how would they know that we would be in that... place? Gamil's breath tightens a moment, feeling less confident now knowing that there was much more behind the veil. "Lady Who?"

At her words, Damocles looks over to to Cinder. She's shaking...whom or what does she fear so greatly?

"Nay, nay. Not by name. I was merely told there were people I was supposed to meet. As no one else in that place seemed able to see or interact with me, I naturally assume it was you and your company." As Damocles finishes, his eyes are nearly drawn upward to the horns that curl up and away from her face, not unlike his own. He quickly pulls his gaze back to the pretty dryad's face, hopefully without her noticing his lapse into rudeness. One day, if she ever gets more comfortable around me, I should ask about those. Could she be afflicted like tieflings?

At Gamil's question, he cocks his head ever so slightly. "Have you not heard of Moxara, goddess of Peace? The Lady of Spring and Winter's End? She is the divine being whom I am honored to serve." If you ever wish to know more, Softstep, you need merely ask. I would be pleased to tell you of her."

Noticing Cinder begin shaking from her own nervous tendencies, Lorion places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, hoping to help her feel at ease. "Do not worry. We will keep you safe," he whispers to her, still uneasy about the tiefling man himself.

Responding to Damocles, he says, "I guess I should be reassured that she is a goddess of peace and not of dark forces. Then again, my people have never been particularly welcoming of the divine."

"Ah," Gamil says, grimacing. Topsider gods.

"Thanks for the offer," he says with a curt but polite tone. The goblin looks over Damocles, taking in his equipment.

[sblock=OOC]What he wearing? Sword? Armor? What he got?[/sblock]

At Damocles' reassurances, and with the comforting touch of Lorion's hand, Cinder calms somewhat. She notices the man's glance towards her head, but she had grown accustomed to the glances of worried strangers. Though she doubts his glance is one of worry, he himself being a tiefling, an outcast as much as she is.

"Your goddess thinks we can aid you in some way, perhaps?" Cinder says, curious to learn about this goddess, and even more curious to know how a tiefling came to worship her. "Is there something she's tasked you with? If it has anything to do with that temple we visited, then we may be working towards similar goals."

Grozzuk grunted, glancing away from Damocles and looking around them. "We should make our way out of here. Somewhere a little more private, perhaps? You never know who could be listening." He said, trying to be rational. "Or at least, we can do introductions later."

"You're right, of course, friend Grozzuk. It would seem most prudent to find a secure location before we settle ourselves and talk." Turning to Cinder, he briefly inclines his head. "I would be more than happy to share what little I know and my thoughts on matters then", he says, in an apologetic tone.

"A sound plan, yes, lest a townsfolk walk by and think we're all lunatics or some sort," the high elf remarks, a subtle smirk forming on his face. "Perhaps we can return to our lodgings from last night. I doubt we'll find any place as private."

As Gamil eyes the armored tiefling, he shrugs. "We could always use another hand. Though, you'll need a weapon."

[sblock=OOC]Can you move us to the inn where we can talk in private and plan our next move?[/sblock]

The party finds the inn as welcoming as they remember. A few patrons buzz in the common area. Marian gestures you up to your room kindly, promising to bring a few snacks up soon. Cerelle clearly wants to pester you for all the details, but Marian keeps her well in hand.

Not one for chatter, Gamil steps up to the bar, angling himself so he can be seen. "Listen, could we have a pitcher or two brought up, as well?" He sighs, leaning in. "We're safe for now. Let us discuss what we've seen first."

Grozzuk stepped in close, glad that the noise of the bar would at least somewhat mask their conversation, though he didn't know if he had much to add; he thought he understood less of what happened than anyone else there.

"I, for one, would really like to know what happened back there." He said quietly, looking between the group of them.

Lorion shrugs at the dragonborn's comment, truly unsure of what really had happened. "I wish I knew for sure, but I fear it's impossible to know," he has, having never experienced anything like that before. "But I think it's clear the demons had some role in it, between the library's thefts and the infernal magic."

"I do not know what happened either, but it worries me," Cinder says. "Before I... left the Oakengrove, I'd encountered strange clusters of infernal energies in the forest, both times in different sections. Large areas of the forest had been warped and twisted by these infernal energies, so clearly the demons have something they are trying to accomplish with their magic. I can only hope that their corruption doesn't spread to more populated areas, like that temple we witnessed."

She shudders at the thought of a populated area undergoing a transformation as dramatic and dangerous as the Brambles she'd witnessed. If they were able to corrupt the forest, what is stopping them from a town or a larger city? Her worry begins to show on her face, as it always does, though not as strongly as earlier.

"Not to mention those shapes that attacked us," Gamil offers. He could still picture the strange, oily grime that coated his blade before the creatures dissolved. "Never seen anything like this above or below ground."

Are we sure we know what Balfour can do?

"Those weren't just shapes," the elf replies bluntly, though not expecting the goblin to really know much better. "They were undead spirits. My concern is that they were solid, and they should not have been solid." The undead, the portal, the demon-magic. This is almost too much.

"Solid, liquid, dead, undead -- we put them down when we had to," Gamil reminds Lorion. "If not permanently then temporarily."

He turns to face the elf directly. "Do you know anything else about them?"

Grozzuk started rhythmically tapping his clawed fingers on the table, listening carefully to his party members. "I have to wonder, then. What would be the best course of action?" Grozzuk took a deep, thoughtful breath. "Where could we go from here that would get us closer to figuring out who is behind all of this?" He said, picking his words carefully.

"We could find that temple," Gamil offers. "If it exists in our plane, that is. Figure that's a good start."

"Maybe someone downstairs would know more," the elf replies, somewhat at a loss of how to proceed. "They're awfully nosy so I'm sure they'd be eager to help out. They certainly know this area better than the lot of us."

Grozzuk nods. "Good idea. But who wants to ask?" He now glanced around at his friends, knowing he wasn't the best person to go asking questions.

"Do you think it would be near us?" Cinder asks, unsure of their chances of finding the temple. "It would be strange if some portal took us to a... vision... of someplace nearby."

Lorion shrugs at the dryad's replying, unsure of the answer himself. "It's worth a try at the very least. Otherwise I don't really know how to proceed here. I've never seen anything quite like this."

"I ain't one to socialize," Gamil says, shaking his head. "But I suggest describing that temple to 'em. Might be somebody who's taken a pilgrimage."

Lorion sighs, unsure if any of his other companions will take the chance first. Put on a bold face like every other high elf, Lorion. Taking the lead, he returns downstairs to Cerelle and Marian. "Well, we certainly had quite the experience. Problem is, we're not quite sure what to make of it," he begins recounting to the pair. "We passed through some kind of portal and ended up at some kind of temple, but it was like we were ghosts. I've never seen anything like it."

Gamil grunts in agreement. "What sorta temples you got around here?"

"Shoot, there goes my chance of running off with a fey prince." Cerelle says, tamping her foot a little. Marian presses a platter into her hands and she reluctantly goes to bring people their orders.

Turning back to you, she says, "A temple? I don't know about that, this close to the capital most people make due with smaller shrines, and just go into town for bigger occasions. I'm sure you'd have noticed if that's where it was, though."

"Probably not around here, then," Cinder says, having already assumed that from before. "Do you know where the nearest shrine or temple to Ostea is? Or at least a devout worshiper or priest of hers? The temple appeared to be one of hers, so perhaps someone else who worships her might know of the place we saw."

"Or have you heard of any temples being ransacked by demons?" the elf interjects, recalling that the library had been sacked by some sort of demonic force.