Pathfinder-ish Campaign...

Eugene, Drakk and Shiro exit the tavern.

Eugene closes his eyes and raises his head slightly, as if smelling something on the wind. <I can feel Garutis due north from here, follow me>

They set off out of the village in the general direction indicated.

As Shiro pushes his way through foilage to follow the much shorter Eugene, he takes the chance to talk to Drakk.

"To be honest, there is something I like about your group. There is a brotherhood here. Do you all get a choice in contracts?"

 

"Frankly, there isn't much of a group aside from me and Izema. We recently served aboard the Moonsister, that's how we met Tarkaz and Garutis. Drew was hired a few weeks ago in Al'akhdar, a port on Tinsenail, where me and the rest of us came from. Heh, until the job on the Moonsister I didn't even know it was possible to reach space! It was a big surprise for me as I am a practitioner of the Celestial Studies, always had a knack for it from birth. Anyways... Back to the point, our group is basically just a way of organizing contracts. Generally employers are looking for a fairly large, cohesive, group of adventurers. By banding together like this it helps get work for all of us. One day though, I would love to have a permanent adventuring group, unfortunately many of our allies met..... 'untimely' demises... Well anyways, does that answer your question?"

 

Having given up roaming various market districts and searching the streets for the shop of his desire to no avail Ohmen heads back. As the traveller, She who is Ohmen, returns they cast their eyes skyward, littered across a perpetual twilight were those other islands suspended with but an arm’s reach of Wisdom… this was a perfect place for any bird, so it seemed…

Anyhow, the traveller re-enters the tavern with no less enthusiasm. First checking up on the others, at which point they are met with the slight rumble of laughter, Eugene having informed them of Garuti’s actions… actions committed hundreds of meters away….

Cracking a somewhat artificial chuckle they back away from the table, this time a little more cautious of what thoughts they let linger and surface… though that was no easy task as voices clawed away… Regardless, something, whether that be of trickery or magic was at play here. Ohmen had heard portions about the so-called ‘Illithid race.’ Though throughout his time had not truly interacted with one, and apparently for good reason too.

Returning to the counter, the traveller politely asks a few questions… and it is only then when they notice Kia tucked away into one of the corners of the candlelit tavern.

Approaching, She sits on a chair beside him, Speaking as wisdom lands to her side… An immediate and clear indication of his true identity, allowing the Kenku to recognise her as Ohmen, if they had not already. ‘Greetings Kia, I assume you are glad to be back on land, and enjoying your porridge? I have to admit I was rather surprised by the stew…’

“Either way, You wouldn't suppose to have any older herbal books for sale? Because if so I would gladly buy them off you. Oh and any other new particular remedies or mixtures cooked up that could also be of interest to me?”

Speaking in a soft, friendly conversational tone the traveller repaints her light smile… The difference between the way and manner they spoke now and days before was somewhat unsettling. Even more so if it was more of a developed subconscious effect, kicked into action when Ohmen possessed another form.

As for Garutis, He can wait. Besides, others will tend to the man’s foolishness independent of Ohmens own actions… Though, Days before, Memories of being trapped. Bound by bars back in Silgis surfaced….

With a command, turned more into a conversation, Wisdom was off. Flying above the heads of those three who had set out in search. The raven could provide eyes, Wisdom from the sky, However redundant. It was the notion, the act that counted, well that and Wisdoms curiosity and desire to know what was happening.. that was all. Besides, given Eugene’s curious, suspicious even, ability to track the neanderthal down, and bear witness to his current self imposed situation meant there should be no difficulty in tracking the fool down.

 

"It does friend Drakk, it does." Shiro lapses into silence as they press onwards.

He turns to speak again when Eugene cries out from ahead.

Well... loudly thinks out from ahead. What would that be... think-shout? A yell-ink?

<I HAVE FOUND HIM>

 

Drakk and Shiro push past the last of the tree fronds and find a clearing. It is sizable and the bisonic heard can be seen lumbering in the distance.

A corpse of one of the bovines lies about 30 meters away from Garutis under a tree. From the scrabbling in the dirt it is clear that he has been trying to reach the body to snack while he waited.

 

Whilst Ohmen is back in the warmth and heavy atmosphere of the tavern, Wisdom can feel freedom on wings.

Eventually, Shouting and commotion from below. Wisdoms wandering eyes immediately settle upon the clearing, and with them talons and bird fly down. Landing a good few meters away from Garutis himself Wisdom hops over, keeping enough distance to ensure they were out of reach from stray flailing or an attempt to grab them… A caution much needed as the bird begins to 'encourage' those around with words about one’s helplessness in the face of all, In the face of infinity, In the face of inevitability and, Death. The last word hissing on the bird's tongue.

Watching as the men gather around, their faces streaming with the efforts, One cant help but notice, or rather, sense an almost shrewd smile, more of a smirk in the bird’s beak, despite the simple impossibilities of such an observation.

 

It took several of you working in tandem, plus a surprising boost from Eugene, but you manage to get the tree off of the fallen neanderthal. Who, the second he is free, stalks over, retrieves his axe, and collects his kill.

Looking up from his porridge, the kenku cocks his head to one side and lets out a soft, but sad, squak. "Hmm, yes-yes, boiled grains-mash is good. Books though? No, no book-texts. Herbalist and alchemist I am, yes-true. Bookseller, I am not. A big city you need-want for book buying."

Back at the woods, Eugene is chuckling softly. It is an odd sound, half-clicking, half-slurping. <Ah, Garutis. He never changes.>

 

Seeing that Garutis was nearing freedom, Wisdom makes their move, hopping over to the fresh-kill before plucking their beak around and into the Bisons eye!

Remarking the statement ‘These eyes have done much in life. And now they can do more in death. Such is the cycle of all things.” before removing the thing from its socket entirely, allowing it to slide down the beak in a sickly motion. Quick to act, the scavenger is able to pick away, at least one eye before Garutis stumbles over to claim his kill, at which the point the bird has fluttered into the sanctuary of nearby trees,.

 

In an act of spite garutis kicks the tree, managing to cause some pain in his foot, but leaving the tree unscathed.. Garutis this time uses his axe to strip some bark and branches from the tree, he might find some use for it

Garutis will remember this act of spite from the woods

 

Shiro glances at the Neanderthal devouring the cow and is reminded of certain schools of fish that can strip meat from bone.... Garutis seems to be doing it faster than them...

 

Unfazed by the Kenku’s lack of books, the traveller responds.

‘Fair Enough… It was worth the shot, on the off chance you had any older unwanted herbal books lying around.

I suppose I will find what I'm looking for soon enough once we depart from this place…”

Wishing Kia well, they slowly leave the table, arranging with the others a time to meet back here at the tavern come morning before they leave the building entirely. Meeting with Wisdom outside the door Ohmen continue onwards to the streets.

-

Moonless night, sunless day. Islands in the sky like scattered stars. Walking under a halo of lamps Ohmen is set for another aimless wander about the town… His mind set to things both big and small…

However, as the chitterings of voices and commotion of the market begin to ring in his head the changeling makes a sharp turn to the quieter side paths.

Still being the traveller, her pace was slow and deliberate, however, the keyword being ‘was’.

Caught off guard. They are sent sprawling to the floor with an audible slam. Their once pure, white cloak is plastered with mud and street grime.

She tastes blood and soil. she hears her own heavy breaths. Her left arm stings, the one which caught the fall, its reward being grazes and bruising.

Gritted teeth, Ohmen snaps out of this naive human form. The tingling sound of voices echo from the town center in mockery.. He resists the urge to scream out for their silence, but rather gets up and walks over to a singular cobble. The singular cobble.

It is raised above the sea of others, it's surface uneven and jagged. A king risen above its people wearing a crown of dried moss, bearing its cracks and imperfections as if they were jewellery and fashion…

How many others had fallen for its tricks before? Sent tumbling down to join its children… What had this cobble bear witness to? Where did it come from years before? And where would it end? Who was its creator? And who… who was its destroyer?

‘Me.’ The unspoken answer whips and coils on the wind around Ohmen. It could be his, his answer. All he had to do was reach out and grab it…

Seconds later a somewhat underwhelming smash rattles out. Ohmen feels a twisting pain in his arm as the hammer makes contact. It was the rock’s last hurrah. However, The keyword being ‘was’. For now, the rock lay shattered and cracked. Defeated. Its smaller fragments scattered across the other cobbles as a reminder to them.

If only there were other eyes in this smaller, separated side alley. It's certain they would have got some form of amusement seeing this figure stumble upon a cobble, before returning the favour in form of steel.

Heart still racing, with that feeling in the gut after you stumble or trip, Ohmen walks away. And as he fades behind yet another alley he transforms back into the same female adventurer as before, the spark in her eyes replaced with anger.

An anger soon to be somewhat soothed as she splits off from the settlement, the voices and commotion from it extinguishing the more they walked, entering the sanctuary of a forest. The rustle of roosting birds and sound of leaves whipped on the wind between scattered tree’s providing a sense of solace.

Striding with purpose Ohmen walks deeper into the forest, the strange twilight sky flickering between the leaves to create an almost surreal feeling.

Ohmen remembers when he was a child. Walking through forests such as this one with a racing heart. Having to steady himself from running at every rustle, every noise. Though, the walk was always worth it. To climb out from the tree’s and up the hill, to watch the sunset from the ruins and pillars. The way the evening mist rolled over distant hills, the light scattered across the forest’s canopy…

too many times had he left it too late, or watched the sun for too long until it was no more. Such was the difficulty. Leave enough light to make the walk back, and one cannot witness the sunset. Or, instead, watch the sunset, and be forced to walk back through twisted woods in complete darkness… Shivering and Scared. Eyes and legs on fire.

One could look back and see such foolishness, but Ohmen did not. For without him doing that he may never have realised the true peace, sanctuary that can be found within forests, even more so at night.

Having walked for minutes, hours maybe? It was hard to tell in this strange light, Ohmen comes to a stop with the sound of a nearby stream

Having stood for a minute, the traveller leans against a tree before placing her bags. Likewise, Untying her cloak to wash it in the cold, fresh stream waters before hanging it up above a small crackling fire. And as Wisdom keeps watch from tree’s above, Ohmen gently prepares some of the herbal tea’s, allowing their warmth to usher him into an eventual sleep as he sits crossed legged, eyes closed.

 

Walking back from the clearing with Drakk, Shiro breathes deeply of the surrounding woodlands. Wet moss, tree sap and other scents he doesn’t recognize combine into a soothing mixture that envelops him.

Looking up at the stars now coming out, he realizes that he has not been this relaxed around others in… years… Literally, years.

Breathing a deep breath outwards and watching his breath curling up towards the stars before evaporating, he thanked the Law Elementals. Surely with this, it was proof that they had not completely abandoned him.

Emotions welled up within him. Probably best to leave that line of thinking for now.

Bidding Drakk good night, Shiro ushered Eugene to their ship. Walking up the gangway, Shiro began the process of securing the perimeter of the ship for the night and set the necessary wards for intruders.

As he reached his own cabin, he shuck off his newly acquired garment, armour and weapon while changing for sleep. As the cloak was removed from his shoulders, he felt the presence in his mind increase. That dark corner that he had walled off through sheer willpower pulsed, as it ever pushed for some weak spot in his mental defences, some chink in the armour of his soul.

As always, he ended the night with the ritual exercises drilled into him at the academy of the Paladins of the Eternal Order. The devout followers of the Law Elementals had left him many gifts in this training, not the least of which were the mantras, spells and drills for mind focus and control.

As he went through the physical motions of his Kata, as he had been trained his mind concurrently went through it’s own exercises. To strengthen, reaffirm control and purify. Doing these exercises had never been the same since the incident as the presence in his mind seemed to pulse in response to the actions.

Was he playing into its hands? He constantly questioned himself and his actions. Would he know if he was turning? Would he have enough self-awareness to notice his moral compass going off? Or would he slowly devolve into evil. For the thousandth time, he promised himself to be vigilant of his own thoughts and actions and constantly question these.

As needed, he would sacrifice himself to prevent the evil being released upon the world. Until then, he would use the power he now had to do good rather than evil.

Lying down, his final thoughts were of his family, his home and a childhood that shimmered gold in his memories.

 

Garutis, lunch slung over his shoulder, tree branches in his bag Garutis has a purpose, he is going to try and find local rew-uhm somethings. he goes back to the tavern where Eugene and some of the others are, but this time sits by some travelers and attempts to learn what he can from their con-ur-say-things. It’s a big word that garutis doesn’t know, but that won’t stop him from trying to get information

 

From the Geonomicon: Travels in the Arcane Inner Flow...

Bisonics are some of the strangest creatures I have seen during my travels. From the onset, they don't look too bad. Smallish bison-like creatures the size of a small horse. They have shaggy grey-brown coats, large, curling horns, and a nasty head-butt attack. I have not experienced this myself, but a friend of mine insists they are called that because they have a kind of collective 'herd mind,' whatever that means. My friend claims the bisonic talk to each other mentally, like the illithid do. This explains why, if you attack one, the rest of the herd will suddenly charge that attacker with a single-minded desire to smash them into oblivion.

This is all secondhand, but my friend says that a mage he once knew thought it would be fun to play 'kill the cow' with a bisonic herd. His fireball spell took out a half-dozen of the creatures, but instead of scattering, the herd turned as one and charged the mage. When the stampeding bisonics had run off, there wasn't enough of the mage left to scrape into a bag! They'd flattened and pounded the mage into the ground and broken pretty much every bone in the murder-happy mage's body.

Apparently, these charging head-butts are strong enough to crack stone walls, topple medium-sized trees, destroy wagons, and damage ship hulls. While this is a sight I would like to see in action, I think I would prefer to witness it from a distance. With a spyglass.

 

Ohmen, someone did witness your cobblestonian revenge. A kobold child sits, perched high on a wall, laughing and clapping its hands happily. Apparently, it likes watching you destroy things!

 

Drakk chuckles as Garutis glares at the tree but the laughter quickly fades as the barbarian starts taking bites out of the bison creature until Eugene frantically tells him that eating it raw isn't good for him. Garutis looks a bit perplexed but as usual, obeys Eugene. Afterwards, the group heads back to the Tavern to get a drink before heading off their separate ways.

After ordering a glass of wine, Drakk asks Eugene "When is your ship leaving? I'm definitely considering taking the job you graciously offered if there are no alternatives! But I would like an estimate of how long we would have on this planet before departure. I have a personal matter to attend to and want to know if I have time.".

 

<Oh, that is not an issue. I only just got here myself, and have some pre-scheduled trades to make. I will be on this island for another three or four days.> Glancing over at Garutis, he lets out a clucking kind of chuckle. Gesturing to a waitress, he says something privately to her. A few moments later and a hand-keg with an open top, full of what you suspect is beer, is placed next to the neanderthal. <That should keep him happy for a while. It will take him a bit to cook the bisonic in the fireplace. I checked with the innkeeper, and while he's not thrilled, he says that people have done worse in his tavern, so he does not mind.>

 

Tarkaz missing all that has been going on due to enjoying his food so much...well, he went on a bit of a bender and food crimes were committed. Tarkaz drank so much he blacked out, he woke up with a mutton chop in one hand, a thick ham slice on his chest and his sack of smoked salmon next to the bed. Eyes heavy as they open he groans as a gravy of some sort can be seen hardened from lip to jaw... Tarkaz turns over... "What..." 3, no 4... no 5..6!? Other people were cramped in his tiny room, 2 females on his bed while 2 more males and females laid on the floor in a heap....but there was food EVERYWHERE...where did it all come from? These strangers just had food all over them, its as if...Did Tarkaz somehow get so drunk that he just had a party with random strangers and just ate loads of food? Barbaric.

"Oh No..." Tarkaz says to himself, "How much did I drink...."

"Where is Lil'usk..."

 

Although there is no true dawn in this place, the closest thing they have to dawn breaks.

Cross-legged on the foredeck, Shiro greats the dawn as was the custom of the Eternal Order. As they say, old habits die hard. Having woken early, he had run through his kata and kataph (for the mind) repeatedly until he felt focused.

A good hour had been spent in meditation, channeling the forces he now found himself with, he prepared, as always, for battle.

Then he had risen and made his way to the foredeck. His people had greeted the rising sun as as symbol of the Law Elementals that they served. The sun's power and it's indiscriminate focus on everything reaffirmed their sense of justice and balance.

Shiro breathes deeply. Somehow the cage in his mind rattled noisily this morning, mustering his mental force he pushed it back down.

Opening his eyes, he gathered himself, shifted his Katana and Tanto until comfortable and strode down the gangplan.

Eugene would not wake for hours and he wanted to know more about these Red Orcs. Surely someone in the settlement had some information.

 

Awoken by the chitterings of early bird song, Ohmen gradually gets to his feet, watery eyes looking skyward to see a sky remaining in a strange twilight grasp, making it no easier to tell what time it is. All the while, his head throbs with a strange sensation.

Taking in another few deep breaths he shakes down the drying white cloak, neatly folding it into the nearby bag and burying the still smoking smoulders of their fire in a kick of mud… and after a few more slow steps, they are at the stream’s edge, guided by the subtle and soft sound of flowing water.

Sitting down, Ohmen quietly takes off their boots, recloaking as the water’s flow by in peaceful fashion, rays of light fluttering down to illuminate the thin mist above their surface. Serene.

Placing a hand against their headache Ohmen approaches right to the water’s very edge before quickly kneeling down and gently forming a coup with their hands, dousing their face with the refreshing, freezing water.

Between a few shivering, yet clean breath’s the changeling dunk’s his head into the stream, the current carrying away the weight and form of the previous day. Refreshed, and standing anew, Ohmen retains the human form, the water gently dripping down her face’s features whilst she collects her things, with Wisdom now at their side.

After having given thanks to the forest for its sanctuary, Ohmen begins the trek back through the village...

It is strangely quiet, though people still rush around, whilst thin columns of smoke billow from nearby houses… I suppose it would be so, given the way in which the sky never truly sets.

Eventually, after a walk that seemed to take much longer than it had previously, Ohmen approaches the familiar glow of the tavern, however, its warmth and atmosphere seems to have somewhat evaporated.. the laughter and noise from within no longer present.

Opening the door and stepping in the traveller looks around, there is little more than a handful of people remaining in this section of the building, mainly those who clearly had a few too many drinks. Speaking softly, she asks for some water before weaving between empty tables, which still held the stains and marks of the previous night’s revelry, an act which Ohmen had no part in.

Sitting down, she waits. Knowing that the others would wake and arrive soon, if they were not already on their way.