The Dream of Cormanthyr [IC]

[bindin garoth]

As they approach the tavern, Aranel cannot help but think of his old house. How were they doing. he wondered. But alas, he knew such thinking was worthless. After all, he had been dismissed from the house long ago, something one can never gain back.

The sight within the tavern, however, was a curious one. He found it ironic that the tavern was such a beautiful place, and yet a human was threatening them! He chuckled inside, but does nothing to show this, knowing such a reaction would provoke them more.

He says nothing as the dwarf's comments. And why should he? They were treating the group as if every elf was a problem! He'll admit, it's not the..... Best of manners to divine on someone without permission though....

"We apologize for the intrusion with the divination. Unfortunately, we are on a mission which does not permit us from excluding anyone from suspect, however. Not to mean you were of suspect, we were actually here looking for another, and thought it might be good to use divination before even entering...."

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Diplomacy: (1d20+19)[21] +3 from Ministrel mask

I do have up a constant Lesser Globe of Invulnerability, which affects both me and my allies (Angel Mask:Protective Aura).Not sure how'd it interact with Arcane sight. It is a 3rd level spell, and allows for seeing in a 120ft area, although technically it's range is personal......

Otherwise, I have nothing to stop it.

[Heavensfury]

Tyriel prepares to offer an explanation to the inquisitive twins, but stops himself when he sees that they are content to bask in their own cleverness. Many mages of even middling power have minor divinatory powers rendered permanent upon their persons, and spellcasters as learned as these two have surely encountered such before, hence the nondetection spells. He wonders about the source of their arcane education, and why fashionable young men would choose to "sup in a root cellar". Even as his sun elf companion offers a disarming apology, Tyriel steers his associates to a corner table. As they take their seats he makes sure to probe the rooms above and below with his magical senses, knowing the divinations should be able to penetrate the wood and dirt floors.

"The Treant's Treat was one of the first places in Myth Drannor to embrace the integration of the N'Tel’Quessir, and has hosted gods in its time" remarks Tyriel in response to Valinor's offhand comment. He wonders again about the kindred of the oddly striking elf, whose looks combined the best of both silver and gold elves, yet seemed to belong to neither. "It's beauty aside" he says, admiring the flawless melding of nature and civilization "it is a place of significance." He beckons a server, orders a cup of hot tea, and offers to buy his friends something to drink as well.

Noticing the aged elf sitting at the far end of the bar, Tyriel studies him closely. It was rare for an elf to so visibly display the signs of advanced age. Normally their bodies remained outwardly fairly youthful, while their souls burned brighter and brighter with the passing years, until their mortal forms could no longer contain the fierce blaze and they pass to Arvandor. Such decrepitude in an elf was usually a sign of a magical mishap of some sort, yet he detected no connection between this elf and the Art, though he did sense an impressive intellect.

After a moments study he senses the faint emanation of illusion covering the figure. A magical disguise could certainly explain how an "elf" could keep appearing at the tavern without anyone seeing him enter or leave he ponders. "The elf at the bar is not what he appears," he whispers for his companions, "and given the quality of the illusion, I would hazard that he is not even Tel’Quessir. Unfortunately, his mind is closed to me, but perhaps your charm and wits can succeed where my magic has failed?" Having identified the illusion, Tyriel attempts to penetrate it with a simple exercise of will.

[The Great Skenardo]

Aged Elf
Under half-lidded eyes, the elf picks up a pawn and moves it up the board, keeping his finger on it for a long moment... before returning it to its previous place.
Subsiding in his seat once more, he picks up a sandwich once more and nibbles reflectively, gazing with mild interest at the various back and forth and up and down of elves and humans. His wandering gaze settles finally on the bright-blue-eyed elf, matching his gaze evenly for a long moment, before giving a slight shake of the head and turning stiffly back to contemplating the board.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Once she and Sydil finish their spellcasting, Ayorra examines the archway with more than a hint of suspicion; she would prefer to be able to scout ahead, but doing that through a portal is not really possible without going through it, and she isn't sure if this one is two-way or even reliable. The witch turns to her companion and suggests "You had mentioned some facility with conjuration spells, before; perhaps summoning a creature and asking it to ensure that the area beyond the portal is safe would be the wisest course."

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I assume I can make use of Sydil's spells as long as she's with Ayorra, and in that case she'll have Sydil summon a lantern archon to go through the portal if possible, scout the area for monsters, dangerous terrain, and a general description for a minute or so, then come back and report.

[Chambers]

Ayorra

Sydil nods to you and clears her throat softly. "That's a good idea, but can I make a suggestion first?" She says and offers a shy smile, a little embarrassed to offer a different opinion. "I've seen many portals in Windsong Tower and each has their own special way of telling you their stories." She says as she takes out a small mirror and crystal lens. "They're quiet though. You have to listen carefully." She fits the lens over one eye and turns her back to the archway, holding up the mirror to show the arches reflection. "Ah...this portal isn't functioning properly. I can see a bright room with large braziers hanging from the ceiling. There's something moving between them but it's too smoky to make out. Oh. The portal shifted." She says and holds the mirror closer. To your eye the mirror shows just the reflection of the archway and stone.

"Tha...that's quite a lot of bones. Sorry." She says as she pulls back. "Some kind of giant chessboard - really? They made a chessboard room? - but most of the pieces are smashed and there's an awful lot of bones on the board. Are those knights? Maybe a bishop...shifting again. It's outside in some park. Maybe an illusion? There's a large stone fountain in the middle but all the water is frozen...actually, the ground is covered in ice. The statues in the fountain look grim, like ice sculptures of a battle...wait. I think that orc blinked." She shakes her head and lowers the mirror and walks toward the archway. "The portal is two-way, or rather multi-way. Each place can be reached by this one portal and they can all reach here. It's started to seep, though I can't say for sure what that might mean. It's simple to activate. Too simple, unfortunately. You speak the word...hmm."

She pauses and the small globes of light detach from her wrist and float in the air, elongating until they are squiqqles of light that form the word Auantiver. "You speak that word and have your destination in mind. But I didn't see all of the places where it could go. Sorry."

[Oh My God]

" I agree that his having a disguise on makes him suspicious,though it is impossible to be certain that this is indeed the suspicious elf he mentioned, rather than simply just 'a' suspicious elf. Its a wide world after all," is his eventual, magically sub-vocal response to the idea that the lone elf is the one their source named. He continues expostulating," Given the manner of our arrival, it would be difficult to gull him or trick him. Perhaps something straight forward?"

Having said all that Valinor steps up to the bar and then leans against it. A whim takes him, and he raps a knuckle against its surface, testing its soundness. Nodding with satisfaction, as if to say,' Yes, that is indeed a bar!'. That accomplished, he waits.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ayorra watches Sydil's display with great interest. Rashemen never had much to do with the portals that so entranced the other nations of Toril, as the creation of magical items is beneath the Wychlaran and the Vremyonni have more important things to do with their magic than craft portals, so all of this is new territory for her. She says as much to her elven companion, and adds that she would like to take some time to study portal lore with Sydil when all of this is over.

"In the meantime," she continues, "we must make a selection if we are to proceed. The chess puzzle is cliché to be sure, but familiar ground is safe ground...though I would certainly prefer the cold outdoors of the fountain, despite the danger posed by the living sculptures. Yes," she nods decisively, "we shall take a chance with that location. As the portal is two-way, we can retreat if there is any overwhelming threat, and if we are going to explore past that area clearing out the fountain would give us a good base of operations in which it would be difficult for foes to hide from us. If you do not object, let us go. After you, daughter."

[Chambers]

Treants Treat

"Fair warning brother. We share this room with a master of the Art." The slightly taller twin says as his blue eyes look over Tyriel. He holds up a hand in warding. "Take no offense and we shall dine in peace." He says and sits back down.

The men at the other table look uneasy at apparently being in a room with three mages and the drunk breaks out of the dwarfs grip. "I'll no be drinking wit' an elf wiz'rd!" He says through slurred speech as he stands up. The dwarf looks ready to force him down again but the other two men quickly stand up and take him by the arms, leading him up the stairs. "Another time Gard. I've just recalled some...place...I should be." One of the men says to the dwarf. "Some place not here." He mutters as the three leave.

A young half-elf woman comes through the kitchen door wiping her hands on a rag as she goes behind the bar. She looks up and realizes that the three men are gone and looks at Tyriel and his companions with an annoyed glare. "I suppose you entering had nothing to do with them leaving." She says and sighs. "Be welcome nonetheless; I'm Athana, and this is the Treant's Treat. What can I get for you? Lunch is a bit spare today, vegetable stew or small sandwiches."

[The Great Skenardo]

Aged Elf
The elderly elf glances at the figure rapping the bartop, pausing around a mouthful of sandwich... then turning back to contemplating the game. Again, he lifts a pawn and nearly places it, only to hesitate and replace the rough wooden piece once more.
Moving with shuffling slowness, he takes the walking stick next to the table and leans his chin atop his hands along it, gazing with faraway eyes at the scratched harlequin pattern of squares on the board.

[Heavensfury]

As the Waterdhavian twin offered as much as an apology as his pride would allow, Tyriel waves his hand dismissively, indicating he considers the incident already forgotten. He glances sharply at the drunk's comment, but as he and his human companions leave, the look melts into one of sorrow. Given the current climate in Myth Drannor, the reaction was understandable, but it still stung. Resolving to do something about it, Tyriel rises from his seat and makes his way to the dwarves' table.

"My apologies gentlemen" he says, bowing deeply. "It appears I have inadvertently spoiled your afternoon, but I assure you that was not my intent. Please allow me to make amends by paying for your drinks and lunch." He holds their gazes, letting them see the sincerity in his eyes.

"If you will do me the honor of accepting my apology, then perhaps I could further implore you to allow me to dine with you. Though I am sure I am a poor substitute for the company you have lost, I have not shared stories over drinks with the Stout Folk since I had the honor of fighting beside the Shield Guard of the Akh'Velahr." Tyriel's eyes seem to lose focus as he momentarily dwells on distant memories. "Their zest for a good meal and brew was matched only by their bravery in battle. It is among my fondest hopes that the descendants of those who survived have returned to Cormanthor, or soon will."

Tyriel looks up as Athana enters the room, and smiles at her welcome. When she asks for their order, he looks to the dwarves, quirking an inquiring brow.

[bindin garoth]

At the mention of the disguised elf, Aranel steps forward slightly and whispers back. "Perhaps I might suggest I go and talk to him?I have a knack at being diplomatic." Then, as an after thought to himself "The wondering mage always seemed to have a way with words, his role would definitely be suitable."

Aranel quickly waves his hand over his face, and to many nothing seems to happen. However, to his companions, who are more familiar with him, his demeanor and posture shift slightly, becoming more upright and possessing a slightly weary look upon his face.

As Athana walks through the doors and mentions food, Aranel is quick to realize how hungry he is. "My dear, vegetable stew would be lovely." He replies rather quickly.

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Switching around masks for a greater bonus to diplomacy. Loosing aura.

[Chambers]

Ayorra

As you say the name of the long dead Cormyr noble house the stone wall in the archway transforms into a shower of snow flakes. Sydil takes a moment to cast a ward against the cold and you step into the portal and feel yourself transported to a land of frost, instantly questioning the wisdom in coming here. The ground is frozen and part of it covered in snow while a snow storm falls all around you. The temperature is obscenely cold; if you were not magically protected you would die within minutes from hypothermia and frostbite. Visibility is poor and you see less than a hundred feet. Sydil wraps her cloak around her tighter and says "There's nothing out there. It just...stops." Sydil's enhanced senses tell her that the land that appears to be hidden by the snow storm doesn't exist at all. You recognize the area as a small extra-dimensional island and can feel the shift of energies in the Weave that run throughout this pocket dimension. The portal that you stepped through doesn't appear to be behind you anymore. Looking back all you see is ten feet of frozen ground and then a solid wall of white, a curtain that extends all around the area.

The only thing in this place other than snow and frozen water is a very large fountain in the middle. A low wall of cracked stone rings the fountain and instead of playful cherubims or dancing children, the figures in the fountain are all men, women and beasts that have been frozen solid. Their ice-encased bodies are collected into a giant heap, one massive ice sculpture that has its frozen-creatures-as-constituent parts fused randomly across the whole of it. Sydil takes one hesitant step forward and then two back as she examines it. "There's something unsettling about the sculpture, beyond it's horrific appearance. The frozen creatures seem to be arranged in such a way as to resemble the limbs of a deadly ice beast, an aberrant thing known as the Shivhad. It's some kind of cross between a giant spider and six sand-worms. See the orc and the dwarf with the poleaxe? Those look like one of its giant pincer claws. It has those too."

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You and Sydil tap the Knowledge: The Planes to recognize this as a demi-plane. It's about a hundred feet in diameter and has been tailored to mimic the Elemental Plane of Water with some modifications, primary among those Supernatural Cold. It shares some base characteristics with the EPoW such as Impeded Fire Magic and Enhanced Cold Magic (Maximized, Empowered).

Sydil cast Mass Resist Energy (Cold) on both of you before entering the portal. Her Greater Blindsight spell tipped her off to the small dimensions of the pocket-dimension and she used her Moment of Prescience spell to get a (roughly) +35 bonus on her Knowledge: Dungeoneering check to tap the base identify DC for the Shavhid (Frostburn pg152 for those following along), which has been altered by whomever created this particular demiplane to be better suited for local conditions. Sydil knows that all Shavids are Immune to Cold, have Spell Resistance and Epic DR, and drain the life (ability drain) from those it bites.

Link to the map. If you login with a Google account you should be able to edit it. I've got a Google account that I use just for PbP gaming; I suggest others make one as well if they don't want to use their primary account.

[Oh My God]

Knowing that Aranel will be able to handle the conversation with the Unknown Elf, Valinor turns himself towards the now important task that falls on him; looking normal. Or, at least as normal as anyone looks in the Coronal's City. It was interesting how hard the demographics here skewed any sane bell curve way out of shape.

" And tea, perhaps? ," the elf adds in a hopeful tone to his comrade's request for the stew.

[Chambers]

Treants Treat

The dwarf called Gard slowly nods to Tyriel as he holds both hands around his mug. "Dwarves did fight alongside elves and men for many years here, not so long ago." The other dwarf snorts and Gard glares at him. "You would pass a moment to drink to your ancestors deeds Halred, son of Halred?"

Halred stiffens and returns Gards stare for a moment before lowering his eyes. "Never let it be said I carry that shame." He says in stiff, formal tones. "Air sgàth có cath ri galad cridhe agus marvh cuartaich aig marbh urk."* Halred says in dwarven and takes a long pull on his mug, drinking til it's empty and then smashing it on the floor. Gard nods and follows suit and both of them look to Tyriel.

Athana shakes her head. "Always lose more mugs when dwarves drink." She mutters before heading into the kithen to get your orders.

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*To those who fought with brave hearts and died surrounded by dead Orcs

[bindin garoth]

Aranel starts to head towards the aged elf, ignoring the dwarfs as Tyriel talks to them. He proceeds to take a seat by the aged elf, and greets the man with a warm voice.

"Hello! Name's Aranel. And you are?"

[Heavensfury]

As the dwarves talk of drinking and honor, Tyriel signals to Athana to bring another round for the table. He listens respectfully to Haldred's prayer, and remembering what comes next manages not to wince as the mugs shatter. He raises his own cup, sadly containing only tea, and responds "May they find peace and joy in the Soul Forger's domain" before swallowing what's left of the tea in one burning swallow. As he takes a seat at the Dwarves' table he throws the empty cup to the ground to shatter with the rest.

"Tell me, have you perchance heard of the battle of Yelping Gnolls? No? Well, while we were evacuating some gnome farmer's over at what is now known as Moander's Road, a huge force of gnolls fell upon us. Fortunately, our company was being led by Hrolm of the Ironheart clan, originally from Ammarindar I understand. He and his boys formed ranks before I could so much as blink, and those gnolls fell faster than..."

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Tyriel settles in to trade stories of battle and glory with the (he assumes) clan brothers, enjoying the opportunity to make new acquaintances. He'll keep an eye on the human brothers and the disguised elf, but is content to let Aranel do his thing.

[The Great Skenardo]

Aged Elf
He blinks once, slowly, at the sprightly elf sitting down next to him.
"Well met," he replies, in deliberate tones, although his voice carries the faint tremor of age, and also an accent.
"Berubella, they call me, and Limosen, too."
With that, he returns his gaze to the chessboard, setting his thin shoulders as he leans against his stick.

[Oh My God]

Valinor sips his tea once it arrives, assuming that it does. Beyond that, he's clearly content to listen to the conversations in progress in the interesting tavern.

[bindin garoth]

"If you don't mind me asking, how'd you get the second name?" Aranel asks the man, looking reflectively at the board. It had been ages since he played the game! Then again, with how busy he tended to remain, it was no surprise, really.

"Are you recollecting an old game?" He asks.

[The Great Skenardo]

Limosen Birubella
The elf takes a moment to lift his eyes from the board.
"They are both my name," he says, simply. "You did not tell me one but," a wheezy chuckle, "I assume you must have two names of your own. Now," he faces the board once more,
"please leave me be; This is a game I am playing with my son, and it is as close as he has ever come to besting me."
After a moment of silence, he takes up the sandwich once more and nibbles at it.

[Chambers]

Treant's Treat

Gard listens carefully to Tyriels tale and even Halred leans forward and seems to be loosening up, old stories of dwarven glory winning over his dislike of elves. "A fine battle, to be sure, but have you heard of the last Orc charge against Mithral Hall? My cousin Oflo Haredge was there, and he said..." The story Halred tells is familiar to you but it seems a bit more grim and heroic by his telling. Gard keeps silent but you can see him smile to himself behind his raised mug.

Athana brings out a tray with food and drinks and gives Aranel a look with raised eyebrows and a slight shrug of her shoulders that seems to say 'Don't ask me, I just work here.' After refilling the twins glasses from a green glass bottle kept under the bar she leans forward. "Must be your first time here, as I've never seen you before. You know the history of this place? Legend holds that this was one of the first trees that the elves crafted with their magics, way back before Myth Drannor had a mythal." She says and smiles as if she knew a secret that you didn't. "Back in those days they say that the tree would come to life, talking with the elves that sat down here. It must be sleeping now, but I've heard it said that these roots could come alive, mostly if it was ever attacked."

One of the twins coughs lightly and raises his head. "Pardon the interruption, fair maiden, but I have seen all there is in this bar, and while I admit that the ambiance has a rustic quality that one does find oneself being attached to, the roots - and presumably the rest of the tree - are simply normal roots, albeit of a large size common in Elven woods."

Athana scowls at him and starts to respond but is cut off as the entire room begins to violently shake. Clumps of dirt fall from the earthen ceiling above and bottles clatter to the floor. The twin stares wide eyed at the shaking walls and stammers. "I...I'm sorry, great tree, I meant no offense..."

"It's not the tree you dolt, its an earthquake!" Gard shouts as he dives below the table, hands warding his head. "Get to cover!" The shaking quickly escalates and larger clumps of dirt and stones begin falling. The dwarves take a few hits by stones but Halred merely grunts as he drops down to join his cousin under the table. The twins make little effort to dodge the rocks and falling debris as their skin suddenly gleams like adamantine. The larger stones fall around them and the smaller ones that do hit them merely bounce off. One of the twins takes a sip from his glass. "Never argue with dwarves when it comes to falling rocks, brother."

Athana doesn't spare a moment for a quip in return. As soon as the shaking started she dived to the floor and curled up underneath the bar, safe from the stone and heavy dirt. "When's it going to stop?!" She shouts and as soon as she does the vibrations instantly cease. "Stay down! There's gonna be an aftershock!" Gard yells as he pulls a chair next to the table, forming a table-chair fort.

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No one's got ranks in Martial Lore for the dwarves, but to the untrained eye it looked like some kind of dwarven battle tactic - probably called Stand There and Take the Hit.

An easy spellcraft check shows that a Contingency for Stoneskin was activated on the twins, and Athana just appears to be really quick on her feet.

Knowledge: History DC 35 or Knowledge: Local (Cormanthyr) DC 15

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Earthquakes are so uncommon in Myth Drannor that many believe that either the land lies far from the edges of any tectonic plate or that the mythal protected the city from any quakes in the past. While rumors are usually false, in this case both are true. Myth Drannor in specific and Cormanthyr in general are over fairly stable geographic areas and the mythal did ward the city against earthquakes.

Even in the years without the mythal there haven't been any earthquakes that weren't magical produced.

[Heavensfury]

Tyriel hops to his feet the moment the ground starts to shake and easily keeps his balance as the earth violently trembles. With his magic ring speeding his reflexes, he manages to dodge all the falling rubble while glancing around to see how everyone else if fairing. Cormanthyr doesn't have earthquakes, he thinks to himself as everyone scrambles to avoid the debris,this is the result of magic...divine magic.

A thousand possibilities for the quake race through Tyriel's mind, but he responds to the situation like the soldier he once was. "Valinor, secure the civilians and prepare to evacuate. Don't forget to check the other floors. Aranel, report the situation to Ilsevele with your token, then stand guard by the door. I will evaluate the situation outside and let you know if the exit is clear." That said, he quickly barks the words to a spell, enunciating the syllables clearly despite the chaos around him. On the final word he feels the brief, dizzying sensation of translocational magic before appearing 100' in the air above the Treant's Treat.

With a gentle snap he unfurls his wings and gently glides over the tavern, his eyes roaming over the devastation caused by the quake. "I have reason to believe this is not a natural earthquake" he whispers, his magic carrying the words to his companions ears, "try to keep everyone calm, but stay alert. I doubt this is over just yet." Tyriel scans the area with his Arcane Sight, looking for anything suspicious. He also keeps an eye out for anyone still in danger from the earthquakes effects.

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Tyriel uses Dimension Door to get outside. Casting the spell requires him to stop concentrating on the Detect Thoughts spell (I'm assuming it hasn't been 15 minutes).

Tyriel is shouting orders out of habit. Feel free to ignore him.

[The Great Skenardo]

Limosen Berubella
After the first torrent of rock and earth, there is no sign of the aged elf- merely the scattered pieces of a chessboard, and a mound of dirt and debris where once he sat.

Those who can see into the Etherial Plane

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Limosen is standing a little ways away from his seat, leaning on his stick with one hand and stroking his chin with the other, gazing thoughtfully around the rumbling commons. After a time, he makes his way to the door and heads outside.

[Oh My God]

" Yeah," Valinor responds to Tyriel's suggestion, though the chaos of the earthquake rather prevents him from taking any particular action towards -advancing- same suggestion, so he does a quick inventory of the people he can see. The twins can obviously take care of themselves, warded with magic. The dwarves... should have experience with the hazards of the earth. He has to prioritize the well-being of the half-elf and any other unknowns further below them.

The jostling and jarring ruin his train of thought, one which went along the lines of,' sure would be nice to be able to move during this nonsense'. Once the first crashing roar of chaos was complete, Valinor springs into motion towards the prone presumed barmaid and places himself between her and any further debris falling from above.

" How many others are in here, miss? Downstairs and up?," he asks Athana while calmly drawing a wand from his haversack and pointing it at his feet. Feet which, it should be noted, are no longer touching the ground.

[bindin garoth]

Aranel manages to dive for cover in time, although a sharp rock to his leg still leaves a small gash on him, and a small yelp of pain. The distraction causes him to miss Tyriel's orders, unfortunately.

Instead of following the orders, Aranel takes a quick look around, noting how everyone else is doing. He notices Valinor checking up on everyone, and Limosen's absence. Aranel ignores thsi fact for the moment however, and decides to head over to Valinor's side to make sure everyone is ok. Before heading over, however, his facial expression changes again, becoming more energetic and youthful than before.

And in an instant, he's by Valinor's side, almost as if he teleported there. "Does anyone need any healing?" He asks everyone else.

[Chambers]

Treant's Treat

The twins both finish their drinks and stand up, brushing dirt from their clothes. "I believe it is time for us to leave, brother." The slightly taller one says as he drops a few silver coins on the bar top. Without another word both of them vanish.

Gard ignores them and shouts at Aranel and Valinor. "Get down! They'll be more coming!" Gard grabs another chair while Halred reaches up and takes his stein from off the table and continues to drink, now under the table. "This is nothing, just a lit'l shake. The cave-in of '68, that was an earthquake."

Athana keeps her head tucked under the small shelf space underneath the bar. "I'm fine, sir. Just shook up. Uh...maybe you should listen to the dwarves?" She says and then sneezes. "Excuse me. No one's downstairs, just storage. The apartment up in the limbs belongs to the owner, but he rarely stays there. Shouldn't be anyone up there."

Outside

Floating just below the canopy affords Tyriel a spacious view of the district and most of what he can see is in bad shape. More than a few of the large trees are listing badly but none have fallen over completely, much to the gratefulness of those caught in the tree-houses during the earthquake. The prevalence of heavy stone masonry in the buildings of this district has helped keep most of them upright, though all of the buildings he can see have cracks in them ranging from hairline fractures to wide gaps that run like lightning bolts across the brick and stone. The buildings made of wood have suffered the worst fate as every one of them that you can see has completely collapsed. You see half a dozen demolished structures and people are running out of buildings everywhere, some just standing around dazed while others run over to the nearest collapse and begin trying to search for survivors.

Your enhanced senses also show the devastation among the magical workings of the district. Magical energy is seeping from a number of the more damaged buildings, flowing swiftly away like mercury and fading into mist. Those buildings that were only partially damaged still appear to have a ward surrounding them, each ranging in individual styles from bars of solid gold over the doors and windows of one building to a translucent green glob speckled with flakes of purple that surrounds another house.

Limosen's street level view shows him the emotional impact of the destruction more clearly. People rush by - and through - him, unaware of his spectral presence and each face is a multitude of emotions - fear, anger, uncertainty - yet no face is unique as all share the same pain. Three dwarves stumble out of one almost completely collapsed house, the trio unbalanced by the deadweight body of a fourth dwarf that they're carrying, his head and face bashed beyond recognition or life. The rumble and crash of settling stone and snapping lumber is dully muted to you, sound not carrying well across the planar divide, though you can see the reactions to what people hear. A halfling and another dwarf pause in a heated argument - about what you're not sure - and run over to a rubble filled alley and begin heaving trash and broken wood and roof slates as they try to clear it.

[The Great Skenardo]

Limosen Berubella
Limosen reflects, using sporadic pulses of power to keep himself insulated from the destruction and chaos around him. Decidedly, he did not like to be jostled.
Nonetheless, perhaps there was something to be gained by rising above street level...
He drops his magical disguise with a thought, his features youthening from a withered elf into a younger, fierce-looking elf with dark, watchful eyes and a short metal spear strapped to his back. A murmured word of command, and his form turns hazy and translucent. Stepping back between the curtain between planes, he emerges from the alleyway. Glancing up, he makes a leap onto the bark of the tree nearby and begins to climb with great speed, seeking a higher vantage point below the treehouses.

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Climb at +14 up to second-lowest sturdy branch, and then Hide amongst the foliage. Hide - (1d20+28)[33]

[Oh My God]

" As much as I appreciate the advice of those wiser in the workings of the earth, I feel safer able to duck out of the way of falling debris. Thank you for your concern," is Valinor's response to Athana, his tone genuine and polite.

To Tyriel, he whispers," Tree clear except tap room; human twins departed, the rest feel its safer to wait it out in cover. I'm staying with them."

Valinor looks over at the other elf and says," Aranel; if you would get up and out to the street, quickly. Help any you can."

[Heavensfury]

Bastards Tyriel thought as he surveyed the devastation from on high. What kind of cowardly monster inflicts all this suffering on so many innocents. Seething with righteous fury, he prepares to conjure mystical eyes to try to seek out the perpetrators, but stops himself when he realizes that's not what he needs to do right now.

Tyriel takes a deep breath, calming himself, and sets about the task of dealing with the situation at hand. First, he sends a message to his companions securing the Treant's Treat. "The exit looks clear. No sign of the enemy. There are a lot of injured and trapped civilians out here. Tell Ilsevele we are going to need clerics and mages experienced with structural wards as quickly as she can gather them. I'm going to start retrieving and organizing the survivors. Please set up an area for the wounded in the pavilion and help where you can."

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Tyriel will be using Detect Thoughts and Ghostform to search areas of rubble for survivors. While searching he'll make frequent use of Message to contact any healthy people he sees and try to organize them into search & rescue groups, or send them to the medical pavilion if they have experience with healing.

When he finds trapped survivors, he'll use Dimension Door, Telekinesis, Disintegrate, Bigby's Clenched Fist, or whatever is required to free them (and bring them to the medical pavilion if injured). Anyone in critical condition he'll try to stabilize with the little bit of healing magic he has (Aid and Cure Serious Wounds both 1/day).

Tyriel will do his best to be comforting but efficient. Ilsevele's rune will be displayed prominently on his vest.

Thank goodness for recharge magic

[bindin garoth]

Aranel moves swiftly outside with but a nod to acknowledge his companion.

Upon going outside, Aranel immediately moves to the sides of anyone trapped or hurt. Luckily, he knew some healing magic, and begun healing those hurt and teleporting those trapped beneth rubble. Admist all of the confusion, luckily get a second to contact Ilsevele and tells her of the situation, requesting help from clerics and mages ASAP.

Spoiler

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Using Dimension Door, Cure Serious Wounds (from Angel as secondary mask), and Mountain Hammer as needed to heal and rescue those trapped or hurt.