Haggered Appearances, part 5

Log Info

• Title: Haggered Appearances, part 5
• Emitter: Whirlpool
• Characters: Baz da Ork, Braelnoir, Cryosanthia, Edinaz, MAC-B1G
• Place: Augustus' Mansion on a whole 'nother Plane.
• Time: Thursday, December 03, 2020, 8:31 PM
• Summary: The party has found a control room full of artifice. They stare at it uncomprehendingly, like overwhelmed squirrels. Cryo remembers a name that might apply, Augustus, while MAC-B1G confirms that is its priority target. Baz selects a green lever, pulls it, and plane shifts the house somewhere else. Cryo recognizes the sensations, she's been plane-shifted a lot, and recommends they go up where they can see out. The house appears to be somewhere in the Iron Hells, or at least where Vrocks hang out. It has also stabilized, making searching easier, so they continue looking for Zaya and watching the windows. Up and up they go, finally reaching the attic where they locate the woman. She seems full of multitudes and power, and is clutching a hunk of star metal hard enough to shred her hands.

-=-=-=-=-=-=  Appearing in some sort of order =-=-=-=-=-=-=
Baz da Ork   7'0"     320 Lb     Orc               Male      7' 320 pounds of metal, muscle and stupid. WAAAGH!
Braelnoir    5'11"    146 Lb     Human             Female    A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver.
Cryosanthia  6'9"     291 Lb     Sith-Makar        Female    A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman.
Edinaz       6'10"    296 Lb     Half-Orc          Male      Grey-skinned half-oruch, extensive black ink.
MAC-B1G      6'6"     303 Lb     War Golem         Neuter    Drab gray primarily metal humanoid with cyan-lit optical receptors.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

-=-=-=-=-=-=  As the GM  -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Whirlpool                 Lb     Otyugh                      I am stinky!
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=

Previously

Metal stairs are less likely to require stress testing, but the construct descends promptly regardless. Acid? Why would one made primarily of metal have any concern for such corrosive substances?!

Edinaz works his way down the stairs, noting the nozzles carefully. He of the eatable-flesh respects them intensely.

Cryo descends the stairs. She keeps track and counts the traps, searching for a theme, and possibly a high score. "Acid nozzle, Acid nozzle, ooo... I think that one is Base. Get covered in the first to then hit that and you'll probably thermal shock too."

She calls ahead, "How is it looking down there? Any more Scythes, arrow traps? A giant metal ball?"

Braelnoir follows along with her fellows, continuing to try and keep an eye out for enemeies, as the trail leads them all deeper and deeper....

Now. They go.

... into a room *surrounded* by artifice consoles of some kind and machinery. LOTS of machinery.

It's ... very Kulthian looking, actually, interestingly enough. What it does is anyone's guess, but perhaps it explains some of the ... oddities experienced so far.

Now

Thump, clank, bang, bong. Baz makes his way down the steps, his heavy plate covered form reacting nicely with the metal stairs. As he reaches the bottom he peers around at the machinery. His little black eyes narrowing as he takes in the artifice. Neurons fire and lightning lances from thought to thought as he digests the magi-tech around him. From within the depths of his long and deep thoughts he rumbles forth his hypothesis of the room. "Oy, dis stuff looks like it needs tae be broken. Its bad ain't it?"

"It just occurred to me," Cryosanthia says, holding up her hand and a finger, having reached the bottom and gotten out of the way, "those acid nozzles might dissolve the steps, and then we'd be stuck looking for another way up. Again."

Thoughtful warning delivered, the whitescale sith'makar looks around. Her eyes remain glowing from her 'Detect Magic' cantrip, although she idlely gestures something arcane to renew it as an absent minded thought. She nods at Baz's further thoughts.

"We should make an attempt to understand it, before we break it. It may have trapped us in a pocket plane, or another time, and it would be helpful to turn that off before it's smashed and never turned on again. Seems like this place was a goal for the golems during the Sorceress War. It might be important."

She looks around, "Anything in your memory... bank module thingy, Mac Bee?"

MAC-B1G's faceplate does a slow, methodical, three-hundred and sixty degree scan of the room and its collection of machinery. "Negative. This unit contains no data of this equipment and arrangement. This unit will rectify." It takes strides to the nearest console to examine it in more detail.

GAME: MAC-B1G rolls craft/artifice: (7)+16: 23

There's no immediate response and definitely no immediate danger. Thank the Gods for that, anyway.

Braelnoir hmmm's, giving the place a bit of a lookover as the command room(?) is reached. Her eyes narrow, and the haft of the scythe creaks faintly as she's reminded of the Corpse Wagon in Merkabah. her tone is grim as she says, "Already hate this place." and tries to see if there are tracks in the floor or ceiling. She doesn't want another headache.

The big Ork pokes a device, trying to get it to stop being weird. This however does not have the desired effect. It goes bonk instead, which makes him poke it again, and it replies with bonk. Poke-Bonk, Poke-Bonk, Poke-Bonk. "Oy, dis one makes a noise!" The Ork exclaims. Poke-Bonk. "I'm gonna rip it out of the wall and keep it for later." Poke-Bonk.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls knowledge/local: (13)+3: 16
GAME: MAC-B1G rolls knowledge/local: (3)+3: 6
GAME: Braelnoir rolls 1d20+4: (4)+4: 8 (Human Improv - k/artifice)
GAME: Braelnoir rolls 1d20+4: (7)+4: 11 (Human Improv - Local)

"Wait! Oh scales!" Cryosanthia says abruptly, "I remember. There's a story about this place. About a hole in the sky over the Felwood, a mansion, and that guy... Augustus. He was in the Sorceress Wars too, I think. Well, that makes sense if they brought the war to him and this is his place."

"I guess not everyone in the Sorceress Wars was a sorceress. Right, golems. Um... does that jog anything in anyone's memory?"

After which, she stares at some buttons and dails. It all looks very artifice-y. Too bad Little Fang isn't here to explain it to her. "Well... maybe save taking it for a little later, we might need it to go bonk in place."

"Affirmative," the construct vocalizes. "Unit designate Augustus. Threat commander. Priority target. Course of action: elimination."

Braelnoir frowns a little deeper at the exposition from Cryo, "Right, I shoulda known that... all that bookwormin' I done lately's clearly been pushing all m'knowhow outta my head." she sulks. With the pokey bonking, the silver haired merc gets a little paranoid and starts to look around with more scrutiny. MAC's commentary warrants a, "MAC, luv, you an I's gonna hafta have us some discussion 'bout the old days once this all's over." as an aside.

GAME: Baz da Ork rolls wisdom: (6)+4: 10

Then there it is, the lever, it is shiney, it is green and it is so pushable. With an almost trembling hand the big Ork stretches out his fingers and brushes his index one along it. "Oooh, dis one has a hinge, and itz green!" He comments as he looks over it, his little black eyes centered on it. Then without further ado he clamps a hand around the lever and pulls it. "HAH!"

There's a sound. An immediate, grinding clank as Baz pulls the lever. The consoles light up and there's a loud humming coming from them as something is definitely powered up.

There is an immediate feeling of ... disorientation!.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls spellcraft: (20)+6: 26
GAME: Baz da Ork rolls spellcraft: (11)+4: 15
GAME: Braelnoir rolls spellcraft: (11)+3: 14

"Right, that's what you do with levers, otherwise they serve no purpose." Cryo says, accurately parroting something MAC-B1G said a little while ago. She looks over at Braelnoir, "You've been bookwyrming? I've been too. I've got the greatest idea... right! Be ready."

She drops into a crouch, looking around, suddenly swearing, "Oh Maugrim humping a teapot!"

"I think that was a teleport... or a Plane Shift..." The whitescale is deadly serious, "Sshhssss! The entire building; It just plane shifted."

When things light up and hum and make noise Baz stares at them and laughs. "Yeah! Dats moah like it!" The big Ork exclaims, then the statement that they plane shifted happens and he peers around sheepishly. "I uh, meant ta do dat. We going tae the uh, good plane. Right?" The long wickedly curved scimitar appears in his hand. "Lets go outside and have us a looks right? Mebe da girl is out dere. Mebe something ta fight is out there!" The big Ork grins widely, his tusks scraping along the metal of his faceplate.

Braelnoir shudders a little and takes a slghtly half step to one side in reaction to the wierd sensation, "Bluah... never gonna get used t'that!" She frowns a bit, though that quickly gets yanked into a grin as Cryo invokes the visuals, "There's a tight fit one wouldn't ferget!" She glances at the entrances to see if what lay beyond them are any different, just in case. If the whole place moved, that's bad, if the whole place moved and shuffed internally again, well.....

MAC-B1G's faceplate abruptly pans from the console to one taskforce unit, then the next. "Query: To which plane was shifted?" There are a great number, and great variety between them.

"ZAYAAAAA!" Cryosanthia yells, because if things are going to get worse, might as well have it happen early. Plus there's the off chance they can complete that aspect of the mission. In the meantime, they will have to continue the quest for stairs.

"I don't know, Mac Bee, if I can look outside I might be able to tell. We're not on fire or drowning, so perhaps we can rule out the elemental planes and the hells. Unless we're at the tippy top of one."

The whitescale was always the passenger on Salina's extra-planar adventures. "I think we're in the Baz place."

Braelnoir makes sure to remain close at hand, as this place is wuerd, but she edges closer to the doorway to get a little better peek at what's beyond, hand tightening on her weapon.

"So... this one thinks we should hold off smashing that for now, in case we need it to get back." Cryo says, smiling widely and sounding cheerful. Her scent is a little off for that emotion, and her tail has more motion than usual. "It's only going to get worse from here."

The whitescale continues to stare around, with glowing eyes. "Let's... assume that pulling that lever again takes us back, or someplace worse, and that perhaps the house has stabilized in this plane, so we have a better chance of finding that girl if she's in it."

She looks at the stairs, "I'm not seeing any other way out. I suggest going back up, looking around more, aaaand.... maybe being ready for some things that came through before."

Braelnoir nods back to Cryo, "Alright." she adjusts the grip on her hammer and clenches her spikeshod hand into a fist, "I'm still wearin' a target, so I'll go first."

Braelnoir gives another look back to the palescale and growls and hisses a supportive, "We are together, sister, and we shall prevail." her archaic diction formalize her otherwise heartfelt intent. <draconic> Still no answer from Zaya, of course, but up you go back up the stairs.

It doesn't take you long to reach a window and see that things are *very* different outside. Shuttered though they may be, there's enough of a gap that you can see red tinged skies.

... and vulture-like creatures flying to and fro, screaming loudly.

That's probably bad.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls knowledge/the planes+2: (8)+7+2: 17
GAME: Braelnoir rolls 1d20+4: (10)+4: 14 (Human Improv - K/the planes)

"We shall. Thiss one likes you going firsst." <draconic> Cryo says, her tail swishing as she attempts to relax and follows Braelnoir up the stairs. Her draconic is much more casual and she lets the hissing draw out.

Upstairs, the whitescale stares out the windows and her mind drifts. /Have I ever seen these things before? Has any of my ancestors?/ She opens herself up to any messages from her blood, unexpected insights. If only a great, plane hopping ancestor were here. Or Dvarshan, he knows about things.

Vrocks.

"Pretty sure those are demons... Vrocks maybe?" Cryosanthia says, "Let's not shout for Zaya so much. Unless she turned into one." That could happen, who knows. The whitescale peers, then checks her companions for developing transformations. As it has been established, this place is weird.

Braelnoir was a marilith for a while. Kind of. She nods to Cryo's affirmation and begins to lead the creep through potentially dangerous halls, "Never killed those, before." she notes, but chases that with the roll of a shoulder, and keeps looking around for something that needs saving, or, more likely, something that needs killing.

There's nothing immediately breaking into the place, at least.

But, hey, you should be able to flip a lever and get out of here, right? It worked for Baz a moment ago.

MAC-B1G says, "Activating Low Power follow mode."

One so hopes, at least Cryosanthia does. "Presumably, cold iron and lots of hitting will do it. This one believes they're immune to cold, probably acid, a bunch of things. They're screaming now, quite loudly at the distance they're at. It might hurt up close."

Thus, she observes and draws conclusions, as she's not exactly read up much on the subject of demons.

She still sounds chipper, "Let's stay away from the windows, for now, search and see if we can find Zaya. I'll try mapping, if it doesn't switch around, we might have a better chance here. Eyes, ears and nose, for things coming at us."

Cryo sticks her cold iron dagger in the belt beneath her corset, and takes out some paper and writing utensils to make the map.

GAME: Cryosanthia rolls perception: (2)+6: 8
GAME: Braelnoir rolls perception: (10)+8: 18

Braelnoir purses her lips, "Swell. I got me one vial a'holy water, that scroll of protection chaos and some antiplague, that's about it." A glance back at the others, then, "Gonna be awful tight quarters in here fer the scythe but I might hafta try it if we get jumped."

Interesting.

Now that you are elsewhere, it appears that the house itself is no longer shifting. You are now able to make sensible progress in mapping it. The movement between rooms is different, but that is simply because the layout now makes sense. The doors go where they are supposed to. You're now in a library, actually, after departing the secret basement.

"I can cast protection from Evil, but it doesn't last long. It's best if I cast it when we're attacked." Cryo says, indicating that the helpful spell is only helpful at the last minute. She does seem encouraged by her mapping efforts, "I think we could explore the whole place. Methodically. Avoiding the windows. Let's go... west. Let's label that 'west', since my compass isn't working now that we're in the planes. Right, of course. Oh! I wonder what time it is."

She pulls out her artifice timepiece and pushes the button. She stares at the floating red numerals, "Interesting..." She puts it away, "Let's go West! I hear there are good things there."

Witches, usually. Didn't the Hags say something about a hole in the sky? Oh well, it will make sense eventually.

Braelnoir does make note that the place seems to be mostly behaving, "Maybe I can finally kick Ghisha's ass fer keeps, but I doubt there's Gods owe the that big a favor." she remarks blandly. She uses her magic sleeves to accomodate her torch and hammer, while releasing her scythe to carry. "Yeah, think yer right about that, now we ain't gotta worry about things shifting, we may find our bunny, now." at one intersection, the Korite takes a knee to scratch a small crossed question mark on the floorboards with a knuckle spike.

Edinaz is just doing his best to pace things off, and be as systematic as possible about the mapping. He's pulled out a sword, though, because vrocks are scary.

Now that the interior makes sense, you're having a much easier time. Bedrooms, libraries, studies... sure, there's the occasional deadly trap to be wary of, but some of them are already disarmed. There's signs of battle, but none recent. You begin to ascend higher and higher onto the Manor house, towards its top floor.

Edinaz works upwards, marking the signs of battle. He takes a moment to examine the fight-scenes, to see if he can learn anything extra.

GAME: Edinaz rolls survival: (11)+14: 25

Cryosanthia ascends with confidence, her legs making firm strides and her tail only a mild danger to those behind her. She marks her map and cheefully expounds her thoughts. Which, are a little Crimson Penny at the moment.

"Bravely do our intrepid heroes stalk the halls of the ancient mansion. Seeing sights, relics of fights long lost to the past, anticipating danger at every turn. Upwards, ever upwards they go. Towards a climactic battle to rescue their prey, the Damsel Zaya, drawn into her own dark dream from the security of her hovel. With luck, they might resolve personal enmnities, but that still opens the question. What might they find? Vrocks have already been sighted, but the Hells hold far worse."

"Only time will tell, but the clock is ticking down, so the time will tell... soon!"

"Pretty sure we won't find Ghisha, but you never know." Cryo says, somewhat more normally.

Braelnoir is usually glad to be up front. It saves being slapped by a tail. She hmm's at the narration Cryo begins, "Make it saucy, luv!" she quips, though her posture indicates she's on alert, closing both hands around the haft of her scythe.

"Saucy hmmm? Okay." Cryo sounds evil, and her tailtip is going that much faster, "Our entrepid adventuress, um... Tailssomemore, was advancing up the stairs with scythe in hand. Suddenly! Her bodice ripped. Such are the perils of adventuring in old houses."

There's a momentary pause, "And dungeons, airships, horseback, the forest, castles, prisons, and hitherto other parts unknown. This unfortunate development was unexpected, but not unforseen. Most battles, especially with ripped, virile opponents result in an astonishing destruction of clothing. As Tailssomemore struggles to regain closure and containment of self, she reaches the roof, revealing..."

Edinaz pauses, then notes as he pores over the the remmains of a battle. "Let's keep our clothes on until we get paid and roll around in a pile of gold coins, shall me?" He's feeling serious. SERIOUS.

Up you go.

Up and up.

Finally, you *finally* begin to hear something., Someting that isn't the cry of the monsterous demons outside.

"..you have to you have to you have to you have to you have to you have to you have to."

It's a soft whisper, and it's coming from what can oinly be called the attic in the corner of one wing of the mansion, a perilously rickety ladder looking like it leads up to the gap in the ceiling that is its opening.

Braelnoir snorts at that, "Gimme some a'that peril." she replies with a wide grin, though she hasn't stopped looking around. Edi's rebuttal speads her grin to baring teeth, "I like th'sound o'that..."

The whispering, however brings her posture up a little bit, her fist coming up beside her in a military signal to stop before she whispers, "Ya hear that...? Sounds like a nutter above us."

"... a situation one definitely wants on their clothes on for." Cryo adds, in a whisper, then continues to add as it seems she can't stop talking, "I'm giving Ceinara a good show, something for Tarien. My Speaker-Trainer said it would help me react calmly, that I should sing during combat too."

She has not started singing. Yet. Encourage her too much and she might see what musical rhythms she can get up to with Baz. The whipsering continues, "So I think, up some more. Maybe a nutter, maybe a failing prayer. Who knows." Then, "Who's first?"

"Witness," Edinaz whispers, under his breath. Then, louder. "I'll go." And then, he starts towards the ladder, steeling himself for the climb and any quick drops.

Braelnoir looks back to Cryo on her explaination as it seems to keep going. She's distracted, though as she is preempted on going up, first. The silver tressed merc nods to Edinaz and lets him take point. So chrome! She answers, "Witness." under her breath in turn, then makes to follow him up.

"Watch me," Cryo breathes, confident in her metaphysical audience of one. She waits as the other two climb, putting away her map and drawing her dagger, then follows in line.

There she is.

It has to Be Zaya at long last, curled into a fetal ball in the corner of the darkened interior of the dusty attic. She is holding something in her hands, fingers tightly white knuckled around it.

"youhavetoyouhaveyouhavetoyouhaveto." Her dress is dirty and in tatters.

Edinaz crouches forwards, going slowly and mindful of all the traps so far. "Hello, Zaya," he says calmly, "What has to?"

Braelnoir starts to creep up after Edi, her weaponheld at the ready, angled so he wouldn't run into it if he stumbled or hesitated for some reason. She leans a bit to get an eye on the matter past his feet. She cants her head a touch, seeing her condition and, on the off chance of madness, a hand parts from the haft of her scythe to pull a tanglefoot bag from her bandolier, "How's she look, luv?"

GAME: Cryosanthia casts Protection From Evil. Caster Level: 10 DC: 15

The whitescale reaches the attic behind Braelnoir, and takes in what she sees. Edinaz advancing, the white-knuckle grip on something. Things held that way tend to be thrown, or powerful.

Almost instinctively, her left hand loops through graceful, arcane motions. She's tracing out an archaic spell, an old form version of protection that's vaguely clerical. Where the sigils would be a god's, her own Dragoneye mark replaces them. The final completion holds two others, a sword which turns into a moon. The protection from evil surrounds Braelnoir.

"Sshsss." Cryo whispers, "should have put it on her, if whatever she's got is controlling her. Be careful." Her iron icicle is out, but held hidden behind a leg. She calls out carefully, "We're here to help."

No response.

"...you have you have you have you have to you have to."

"SAVE HER," she says, suddenly looking up at you.

Her eyes... they're the depths of the sea, pits that seem to contain multitudes. In her hands is a twisted hunk of black star-metal, her hands a bloody mess. It's power incarnate. Blinding power and fragility all at once.

OOC jokes

<OOC> Cryosanthia sees only her map
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "I won't regrow the tail no matter how much you stare at my butt. Still, though, it might so keep trying."
<OOC> Cryosanthia TRIES!