Aaliyah gives a quick "Thank you!!!" to Lissandra after she called out to them, and before jumping through the portal. Stepping through, Aaliyah certainly hadn't expected to land in a cartographer's shop. Was there some sort of mistake? She looks to her compatriots, Beigeiros and Mariel as they enter through...with the goblin following them as well.
Before she could say anything else, the cartographer addresses them and shows them the map, asking for their opinion. She looks at the map curiously, and she recognizes some of the landmarks from the Plane of Air. Beigeiros spoke up first and recognized the map as the Elemental Chaos.
That certainly explained a large majority of the map she couldn't recognize! She answers in agreement, "Oh yes! I recognize some of the landmarks from the Elemental Plane of Air. This is impressive!"
She then realizes something and she asks the Cartographer, "Oh right! I apologize for our rude intrusion, but...is this shop in Tir Na Og?"
The gnome seemed to sense Garnet's movement in the corner of his vision, but just as he was about to turn his head, Beigeiros correctly identified the subject of the map and the gnome's attention returned to those directly in front him. His face lit up. "Very good, my boy! Very good indeed!" the gnome says. "So you've been to the Elemental Chaos then? Fascinating. Haven't been there too often myself, work usually prevents me from doing so, but the stories I've heard! Difficult place to map out though, considering it's ever-changing nature. Could give Limbo a run for its money." Before he can start what is likely a length ramble, Aaliyah cuts in. He doesn't seem to mind though as he gives a warm chuckle to her question. "Tir na Og? No, miss, you are currently in Tradegate, the gate-town leading from the Outlands to Bytopia." He points in some direction. "But we are the closest gate-town to Tir na Og. It's about some miles that way..." He pauses before correcting himself. "Well, it was. From what I've been told, there's just some open fields there now, though I haven't had a chance to really look myself." He turns back to the group. "I guess your lot is heading that way? Well, you're definitely not the first travelers to show up here with that goal. Place has been swarming with them. Not too long ago we had a whole party of Ciphers come in here. Antsy lot, not much for conversation." He shakes his head before opening his arms, gesturing to the shop around him. "You are currently in Manyroads' Maps. I'm Melvin Manyroads, proprietor, cartographer, part-time adventurer. While I wouldn't say I'm the best cartographer in the multiverse, I probably have the most diverse selection of maps you'll find." He goes to shake Beigeiros' hand, then Aaliyah's, then Mariel's. It's unclear if he realizes Garnet is there.
Speaking of, the compass Garnet picks up is large and feels very cold as she picks it up. The symbol of Vegvisir - a viking compass - is on the lid. Should Garnet open it, she will find the compass marked not with the cardinal symbols for each direction but runes of a much older version of Dwarvish. No matter how much she turns it in her hands, the dial doesn't seem to point anywhere in particular. Garnet will get the sense that the compass is, for some reason, not working as intended. Maybe broken? Unfinished?
Garnet may roll a History check to see if she can decipher the runes.
Ubiquitous Wayfarer, Lower Ward, Sigil > Revelhome, Ecstasy, the Outlands
"Well, I do try," Tabiah says, the slightest hint of dryness is her tone. "I'll go first, make sure we don't end up somewhere... less than desirable. I'll tell you if the coast is clear." She then hitches up her skirt before climbing less-than-gracefully into the portal. She disappears, the portal rippling almost like water behind her. There is a long pause before her head re-emerges from the light. "Seems all clear," she says before ducking back into the portal
Should Zaraknyvr follow after her, he will find himself... in yet another wine cellar, though this one is far brighter thanks to the large window to side. It's also much tidier, with few barrels lined against the wall and the floorboards much stronger and sturdier beneath one's feet. Overhead, Zaraknyvr can hear the sounds of cheerful banter and the occasional clash of glasses, though it doesn't sound nearly as rowdier as the Wayfarer.
As the pair are catching their bearings, they hear someone humming as a large, hulking shadow is cast on the wall near the staircase, two horns protruding from where the head is. Its footsteps are very heavy.
Ulgad nods in response to Fyodor, a smile starting to form on his face before he downs the rest of his drink. "But enough of that!" he says once he places his glass down again. "We should get going." He glances towards the door to the wine cellar. "Hopefully those two have passed on..." He pauses for a moment, looking thoughtful about something. "You know..." he speaks again, his voice quiet so as not to attract the attention of either Jarret or Wynvere. "The woman the Mercykiller was with. The one with the cat? Think I've seen her about before, though I can't exactly place where." He pauses for a moment longer before shrugging. "It'll come back to me. Or not. Doesn't really matter much either way." He gives a chuckle. "Hope she knows what she's doing hanging around with a guy like that. They didn't exactly seem to be friends." He then gives Fyodor another hardy pat on the back. "Alright!" he raises his voice a little to get the attention of the other Bleakers. "Let's head out."
He starts heading towards the door to the cellar. Wynvere quickly starts going after him, but Jarret hesitates, staring down into his now empty glass. "We could have had one more drink," he mumbles to himself.
Azorigal blinks in surprise as Tanrith started practically fanboying over him, and looks over at Faelee questioningly while pointing a claw towards the excited kobold.
Faelee chuckles. While it doesn't seem like she knows Draconic, she seems able to read his excitement. "Azorigal, this is Tanrith," she says. "Like us, he seems to be inquiring about the whereabouts of Tir na Og... and he seems quite impressed by dragons."
This explanation seems to satisfy Azorigal because the dragon stands up to his full height. "Well, we are impressive, us gem dragons most of all," he says in Draconic.
It's at this point Raella wanders over to the group, also seeming interested in the presence of a dragon. The other members of the Doomguard look at her curiously, while the cheer that Sarceron has slowly started to gain over this conversation seems to falter.
Azorigal, on the other hand, doesn't seem bothered at all. In fact, the attention seems to be stoking his confidence. "Well, seems I'm drawing a bit of a crowd," he says, reverting back to Common. While Tanrith is introducing himself to Raella, Azorigal takes a moment to clear this throat, coughing out small puffs of some sort of black-and-yellow energy. He then draws himself to his full height. "I am Azorigal. I am a topaz dragon, the greatest of all Sardior's children. Like all gem dragons, I possess incredible psionic power..."
There is a pause, and then both Raella and Tanrith will hear a voice in their minds, "As you can plainly see... or well, hear, I suppose."
Azorigal speaks aloud once more, continuing to do his best to remember the questions Tanrith had excitedly asked of him and answer. "I am male, at least for now, and I am indeed amphibious, though the sensation of water upon my scales is, well, less than pleasant. As for my breath weapon, no, you are correct, it is not fire, nor acid or poison." He pauses, considering something. "You know, perhaps it is better if I show you."
He turns his back to the group, glancing around before focusing in on a nearby tree. He points to with a claw. "See that tree over there?" he says. "Well, watch and be amazed!" He then crouches down to the ground, opens his jaws and releases more that weird energy he had coughed out before, now in a large cone. It reaches out towards the tree, engulfing it for a moment and filling the air with the strong smell of decay. When Azorigal stops, the energy slowly disappeating, revealing the tree in a very different state: most of its leaves have been blown off, the few still clinging to branches now shrivelled and brown. Rot has overtaken the bark, causing large chunks of it to crumble away. It's almost as if autumn and winter happened to this tree within a single moment.
Vivir starts cheering loudly, while Rhuk once again makes the attempt to not appear impressed. Sarceron looks horrified as the last bits of cheer leave him and his face starts to pull into a scowl. Even Faelee doesn't look entirely pleased with this, but instead of admonishing the dragon, decides instead to change the subject. "If you're quite done showing off, Azorigal, I do believe I sent you down there for a reason," she says, motioning towards the lake.
"Hm?" Azorigal looks over at her, a little confused before turning his head back to the lake. He stares at it blankly for a moment before a look of realisation passes over his face. "Oh! Right, that." He looks back towards his superior. "Yes, Tir na Thuinn is gone."
Faelee raises an eyebrow. "You're sure?" she asks, remaining calm even as, just next to her, Sarceron's expression is growing ever stormier.
Azorigal shrugs his wings. "Well, I've never been there before myself, but I figured the realm of an god would be difficult to miss, particularly the one you described to me," he says. "There's no signs of anything resembling a civilization down there, nor anyone capable of holding polite conversation. Lots of really cool fossils though..." His eyes go into a daze for a few seconds, likely daydreaming about those aforementioned fossils, before he suddenly recalls that he's still in a conversation. He clears his throat again before motioning with his claw to over the lake. "I could try further a field if you'd like."
Faelee shakes her head. "No, I don't think that will be neccesary," she says. "Tir na Thuinn does not stretch beyond Ubtoa's island. If it's not on this side of the lake..." She stops herself, falling into a sombre silence.
For funsies, I rolled to see how much damage Azorigal's breath weapon did on the tree: it was 27. And after consulting ze googles, I determined that this particular tree had 30 hp. It's not completely destroyed, but it's definitely not doing great.
Body tense and limbs ready, Mariel reluctantly shook the hand of the many titled gnomish cartographer. Handshakes with strangers never had grown on her. She preferred polite nods. At a distance.
Dimensional travel suited her. With her stomach unburdened by arcane ice cream, Mariel suffered no discomfort stepping from here to there in the blink of an eye.
Melvin’s mention of Tir na Og had thrown her off. An unwelcome feeling that left her fighting the lump in her throat. The glint in the uninvited goblin's eyes had faded from her watchful gaze. She was up to something. Likely something mischievous. Possibly something criminal. Mariel did not judge. The cartographer was not part of her pack. Nor the goblin. They would have to stand for themselves. Such was the way of the wilderness.
Caught in the swirling waters of sorrow and worry, she did not care much either way. They were close. They were closer at the very least. There was no time to waste. There was no time for caution.
Gesturing towards the arrayed maps, Mariel spoke with a sharp blade of unwavering focus,“Do you have a recent map of these lands? From before and after Tir na Og… vanished?”
Fyodor noticed Ulgad down the rest of his drink and, taking that as a sign that they would be moving on soon, quickly finished his own wine just in time to place his glass down at the same time as Ulgad.
"But enough of that!" Ulgad said then. "We should get going."
"I suppose we should." Fyodor said as Ulgad glanced towards the door to the wine cellar. "If we delay too long, the expedition will leave without us."
"Hopefully those two have passed on..." Ulgad said before pausing for a moment, looking thoughtful about something. "You know..." The gnoll spoke again, his voice quiet so as not to attract the attention of either Jarret or Wynvere. "The woman the Mercykiller was with. The one with the cat? Think I've seen her about before, though I can't exactly place where." The gnoll paused for a moment longer before shrugging. "It'll come back to me. Or not. Doesn't really matter much either way."
"Nothing ever does." Fyodor replied to that final statement.
"Hope she knows what she's doing hanging around with a guy like that." Ulgad added after a short chuckle. "They didn't exactly seem to be friends."
Fyodor opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly when a pat on the back from Ulgad startled the words from his mind.
"Alright!" The gnoll raised his voice then to get the attention of the other Bleakers. "Let's head out."
Fyodor rose from his seat, pausing a moment to allow Wynvere to quickly dart past him before moving to follow.
"We could have had one more drink," The sound of Jarret's words reached Fyodor's ears, making him pause and turn back to the Halfling.
"The time for drinking has passed." Fyodor said to Jarret before gesturing for him to follow the rest of the group. "Now is the time to face the bleakness of existence and do what little we can."
Garnet followed the conversation between her new 'friends' and the gnome with one ear — for a time. A time that wasn't particularly long. The man's rambles turned into little more than a buzz in the background by the time Garnet scooped up the compass and realized she knew what it was for. Or rather, where it was for; the Inner Planes.
She knew something good would come out of watching her mother carve all those old-as-all-heck runes into her blades. When she was younger, she just assumed that something would be bragging rights to her father, who said they looked like drunken kenku-scratches.
Oh, and hold up! Hadn't the others just talked about the Elemental Chaos? And how oh-so-very-difficult it was to traverse and all? Because, um, not for her! Not anymore.
"I coul' do it!" she announced from where she stood, hands on her hips, compass still visible in one hand. She was grinning again, proud of a feat not quite yet accomplished. "Tra'erse t'e place with t'e stuff 'n' thin's! Easy!"
At the very least, she had the sense not to add, 'with the compass I just stole from you'. Small victories.
Tanrith didn't seem to get an immediate answer from the girl beside him, but more important to him in the moment was the rumbling "AHEM" of the dragon before them. He quickly spun around and looked back at the dragon, not wanting him to think he was being disrespectful or anything! He saw the puff of some kind of strange blackish, yellow energy and his eyes widened again. Was that a hint at his breath weapon maybe? What could it be? It definitely wasn't any of the elements he was familiar with. Still, he remained just as transfixed on the dragon before him as before, eyes continuing to sparkle as the large creature began to not only speak, but directly address him! He grinned widely, more than happy to accept all of the demonstrations that he was shown. He even jumped in surprise as the gem dragon was able to "invade" his mind.
"Whoooaaa!" Tanrith exclaimed, jaw dropped for a moment. "A gem dragon.... I've never heard of that before, that's awesome...." As he spoke, he began to drift into a light tone full of awe. "I had no idea that there was a whole other kind of dragon besides chromatics and metallics! And they can do that weird head-talk thing the Chief could do.... Argh, I wish I'd thought to grab a notebook or something.... Oh! S-sorry, hold on, can you give me just one sec?"
Suddenly, an idea seemed to pop into his head and he quickly scrounged around the area, before seizing what seemed to be a simple, flat stone from amongst the shoreline, only big enough to fit in his claw. "Perfect...." he murmured. As he did this, he ran over to Zyrech and began to dig through the bag he'd left on his body before withdrawing his Thieves Tools. He was quick to then plant his rear on the grass, spin the tools in his hand, and suddenly began to bring the tools down onto the stone. As he did, the tip of his tools began to spark and give of blue lightning-like energy around its tip as he worked. And then, a moment later, he exclaimed, "Done!" and then hopped back to his feet again.
Now inscribed on the stone were a handful of words, glowing with the same blue color as the lightning-like magical essence before as though inscribed in runes: "Azorigal (Azzy?), male (currently) topaz, amphibious. Really really cool."
"There, notes taken...." he murmured, turning his attention back to the dragon at hand. "So what were you going to show-"
However, Tanrith stopped himself short as he saw what Azorigal was pointing himself at. "A-ah, actually, maybe that's not a good-" he started, raising his claw, but was too late. His jaw dropped again. But this time, it was of alarm as he watched the large dragon unleash what seemed to be a burst of some kind of magical energy that reeked of death and decay. A scent he had smelled before--or at least something remarkably similar--during his first days in Sigil. The sensation seemed to take a grip on him as he stared in disbelief as the tree was completely enveloped in this energy and seemed to nearly decimate the tree, decaying and rotting it before his very eyes. The shock caused his grip on the stone in his claw to loosen to the point where it fell to the ground at his feet. Instinctively, that claw rose to his maw, covering his muzzle as though the mere scent threatened to make him sick.
But then, something seemed to come to his mind. He suddenly started forward. He didn't completely disregard the conversation going on behind him, but his attention was no longer on the topic at hand...as he seemed more intent on approaching the tree, studying it for a moment, wondering if there was anything he could do to perhaps put it back on the path to regeneration to try to fix the damage....
Tanrith worriedly examined the tree as the group behind him began to converse. He studied it as carefully as he could, noting the various forms of rot that had begun to set in, thinking about the magic-like abilities he had at his disposal. He thought back to all of the teachings he had been given way back in the day and the things that he had since learned on his own...but none of it seemed to be coming back to assist him in the here and now.
Tanrith frowned as he fell back to his last resort. He wasn't sure it would do much to help, but at least "almost nothing" was better than nothing. He found whatever parts of the bark and such he could that had been tearing and being worn down. He pulled up his tools and began to get to work. His specialty was in tinkering with machines and devices...but maybe there were other things he could do here. He started attempting to patch the tree's physical damage up as best as he could, readying himself to sit here for an entire minute to mend up the first large break in the bark he could find, attempting to stitch it back together...though he was clearly struggling to make any kind of actual difference here.
But as his magic was beginning to become infused with the tree, he paused as he...felt something. It was brief as he worked, but occasionally he would feel it. There was some kind of dim, very faint response from something. And after a few more moments of contemplation, he understood what was happening. There was a response from his magical stimulation, but...it wasn't strong enough. He needed something...more. Even if he continued to try, he wasn't going to make a difference himself.
"Ah crap...." Tanrith murmured under his breath before letting out a defeated sigh and slowly moving to put his tools away. This was definitely beyond his capability to fix. He stepped back and looked at the damage one more time. Luckily, it was only a single tree and shouldn't be TOO big of a deal, all things considered. Even if this tree died, eventually more green would regrow in the area. But that was a long time for something this scarred to sit here.
Tanrith felt a sudden surge of guilt well up within him. He knew it wasn't really his fault, but he had been the one to egg the dragon on. Even though he had no idea a dragon could have a breath like this, it had still been his own question that led to the demonstration in the first place. And right after he'd just finished telling Sarceron that he did his best to respect nature, too....
The small lizard turned away from the tree and back toward Sarceron, starting to approach the firbolg with an apologetic look on his face. "S-sorry, I tried, but I can't do anything about it. I-I didn't mean for him to- I-I mean, I didn't think he would...th-that is, uh...s-sorry...."
Tanrith uses his Magical Tinkering feat to take very brief notes, infusing a 9-word "message" onto a nearby stone.
He then goes to inspect the tree to see if anything can be done to save it and help it along its path to regrowth, rolling a 13 on Nature, resulting in very little progress.
This was an awfully excitable little...lizard, wasn't it? Somehow, she found it slightly endearing. Odd, but that was probably a good thing for the lizard. What she didn't like, was the other lizard poking around in her mind. Well, she supposed as long as it was telepathy and nothing else. Not like she could get in a word edgewise between the dragons boasting and Tanriths rather continued excitable state. Were all kobolds this cute? Or was it just Tanrith...maybe she should ask dad for some kobolds or something...
"Ahem. Since I have yet to get to introduce myself since the two of you were busy showing off and talking too much," Raella spoke up finally. She couldn't let herself be outdone, no. The definitely human and not changeling person would thus extend her arms to her side. A faint sound of a trumpet could be heard along with a few little sparks lighting over her head. "Raella Norinthall, of house Norinthall. I'm sure I don't need much more of an introduction, hm?" Yes, that was a perfectly fine introduction to this lot. Shame she didn't have a door she could just open or candles to spontaneously light.
"Did I hear that right? You're looking for Tir Na Ong as well?" She'd begin. "I was quite rather put out when I heard it had vanished. I was planning on visiting the library today."
A little prestidigitation for a definitely impressive T-pose introduction. You can thank fell for the dominance asserting.
Beigeiros shook the gnomes hand and nodded. "Yes, I have been to the elemental chaos a few times. It's not somewhere I would go often. As you stated it is ever changing." Calmly looked around the room to the many maps that Melvin had in the shop while others addressed the gnome.
He looked over to Garnet spoke up about being able to traverse the elemental chaos, and noticed the compass in her hand. Did she have that when they came through the portal? the goliath thought to himself. "Where did you find that?" Beigeiros asked the goblin gesturing to the compass in her hand.
Garnet's declaration didn't quite net her the oohs and aahs she'd hoped for, but it did catch the big guy's attention, at least. The goliath turned around, spotted her newly acquired compass, and asked about its origin.
Garnet cracked a grin.
She held up the item in question for him — and the rest — to see, proud as if she were a mandrill holding up a newborn lion cub. ...Which was a weird simile, but did invoke a pretty vivid scene.
Anyway.
"O'er there," the goblin answered matter-of-factly. She proceeded to point at the exact spot on the floor with her free hand, nudging her disproportionately large head in the same direction for good measure. "Was jus' lyin' 'round so I took it."
Melvin didn't seem at all put off by Mariel's straightforward demeanor. In fact, her questions only seemed to fuel his enthusiasm. "I do indeed!" He gets up from his desk and starts heading towards the shelves, all while still addressing the party. "Though, the map of after is still very much in-progress. Haven't had too much time on my hands recently to do another tour through the Outlands, beautiful and mysterious as they are. While not as ever-shifting as some realms, it does change over time, sometimes in the subtlest of ways, and seems a little different depending on who's viewpoint you're looking through. Especially when you start drifting out beyond the gate-towns, towards the Hinterlands... now where did I put that?" He begins shuffling through shelves and drawers for a bit, mumbling to himself before he finally lets out a very loud "Aha!" and comes running back to show Mariel. He seems he's about to launch into a long explanation when Garnet interjects and he turns round, looking at her as if he's only just realising she's there.
"Hm? Was wondering where I put that," Melvin says, placing the maps on his desk for Mariel to look over before making his way over to where Garnet is. He doesn't seem to have registered that she took it from him and just attempts pluck it from her claws while muttering "Thank you!" as if she handed it to him... which she very much did not, but he acts like she did.
Jarret scowled at Fyodor, but otherwise said nothing, passing him to follow the others into the cellar.
The Bleakers will find it as Zaraknyvr and Tabiah left it, with the wine barrel still open and the portal flickering within, though it is steadily growing weaker.
As Tanrith turned back towards the group after his failed attempts to heal the tree, he'd notice Sarceron was watching him. When he approaches the firbolg to apologise, he merely holds up a hand. "It's not your fault," he mutters. His tone is cold, but its easy to tell that said coldness is not aimed at Tanrith. His eyes then turn towards Azorigal, and then back to Faelee as the other firbolg turns to address Raella.
Nobody really reacts much to Raella's flashy introduction. At most, Faelee raises an eyebrow in an amused fashion while Vivir and Rhuk share a look. "Library? What do you..." Faelee begins before realisation then creeps over her face. "Oh you mean Ogma's House of Knowledge?" She smiles, seeming somewhat amused about something. "Oh yes I suppose you could consider that 'a library' of sorts." She then bows her head towards Raella. "Yes, we are looking for it. I'm Faelee. I used to live there, so the Doomguard thought I would be the best person to head up this expedition." She then glances around the empty field, which is growing foggier by the moment. "They might be a little disappointed with our finds however. This feels a lot less like Tir na Og was destroyed and more like it was never here in the first place, which is fascinating in its own way I suppose but very much not something the Doomguard might be particularly interested in."
Sarceron looks over at Faelee, looking absolutely frustrated with the detached way she's talking about their former home. However, he decides not to say anything, instead turning away. "I probably should gather the other Plane-tenders and tell them that Tir na Thuinn is gone as well." He then glances over at the damaged tree. "Maybe get some of our druids to tend to that. Might be something that can still be done for it." He gives Faelee one last look, completely ignoring the other Doomguard members and Raella before glancing over at Tanrith. He gives the kobold a nod, and even in his grim state, its easy to see that the firbolg has the most appreciation for him out of the others gathered around the lake. He then starts to leave.
"What's his problem?" Azorigal says while Sarceron is definitely not out of hearing range. He motions with a claw towards the tree. "I mean, it's just a tree. There are tons of them. That's what forests are, right? Lots of trees in one space?"
Zaraknvyr reached to stop Tabiah when she offered to 'go first' and 'make sure the coast was clear'. There were two things wrong with that:
1) If she went first, it could only possibly be to warn those on the other side of a portal to ambush him when he himself passed through.
2) If the coast was rife with danger, his need of the feline required him to go first to ensure Tabiah's own survival.
However, a third idea crept into his mind that was worse than both of those combined.
3) If Zaraknvyr goes first, Tabiah may still be here when those Bleakers inevitably come down in search of this very same portal.
His hand retracts and he nods. Those Bleakers poaching his wizard would be the worst possible reality of all, and thus he lets Tabiah proceed. Her all-clear came suspiciously all-too-soon. His eyes narrow. His fingers twitch. His neck itches. His shoulders hunch. He cackles quietly to himself. Then, he dives in.
He emerges in an explosive leap from the other side of the portal, whirling like a dervish, only to find himself in utterly peaceable environs. The light was harsher to his eyes, but not unbearable. Never unbearable, thanks to the parasite that writhed within his neck. The parasite that gnawed at him and made him hunger. Chatter flows from above, but more civilized and restrained than in the Wayfarer. The hum of the staircase- the horned shadow- the presence of another.
"Announce yourself. You approach Zaraknvyr, Mercykiller, come in search of Tir Na Og." He declares loudly to the approaching figure.
Only now did it occur to him that he should have obscured that portal from the Bleakers. Damn.
