Crash & Burn IC

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ignatius is not the type to say I told you so to Joresh when the Oriens explain that the were on target after all, so he doesn't say that. Instead, he focuses his mind and sends to Joresh, <I do indeed. May Arawai ease your pain.> He gives Joresh a brief tap on the wrist (Ignatius would prefer to lay a hand on a patient's brow to cure a headache, but he obvously can't reach that high without making a bit of a scene) and Joresh should be able to feel his headache clear up.

When the group reaches Wroat, he tells the group, "The Galifar Museum isn't too far from the Temple of the Host, as I recall, just a few blocks west. I can lead us to the temple and we can make our way to the museum from there."

[Mechanix]

Autumn nods, gazing around her with a look halfway between wonder and deject. "I'll follow you. I've been to Wroat before, but only briefly, and I never had the chance - or the knack - to get to know the city. In fact I barely saw a glimpse of it... I couldn't find my way to a museum if my life depended on it." She stares at the building, massive, well-built, old in their way - but not the same kind of age as the forest and the wilds where she grew up. She shivers slightly. "I feel like something may come creeping out of any of these alleys and street corners," she muses to herself. "What's a museum even for? To put your history on display rather than carry its meaning in your words and put its items to more practical use? What a strange institution to have."

[Rofltrollcopter]

To Joresh's surprise, his pain vanished right away. <My thanks. Although I think you deserve more credit then the Sovereigns. Sometimes sharing my head with an immortal dream spirit isn't all what its cracked up to be.>

Before they reach the gates, Joresh takes a few moments to reapply his old disguise. He put the colored contacts back over his eyes, and shifts his posture so he appears more lazy and less coordinated. His companions would have no trouble recognizing him, but most other people would see him as an ordinary Human. Joresh found he had an easier time getting along with most people in Khorvaire when they didn't know he was a Kalashtar. It wasn't a particularly good disguise, but it suited his purpose well enough.

Spoiler

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Take 10 on disguise check for 14 total. This includes the racial bonus and penalty for disguising as a member of a different race.

As they part with the Orien heirs, Joresh calls out to them. Sorry about what I said earlier. It's been a Hell of a day. I never caught your names. Does the House have little cards or something that I can fill out to show how satisfied I was with your service?

Joresh idly follows his other party members while looking around the city. He was surprised by the diversity he had seen here, he spent a brief amount of time in Sharn, and was surprised to see a cosmopolitan display like this outside of the largest city on the continent. This was also a common site in the great marketplaces of the Riedran Empire. All of the races were united in their servitude to the Inspired, an impressive feat considering the Empire had a population larger then all of the Kingdoms combined. Which was a form of peace of sorts. Certainly it was one more permanent then what Khorvaire had achieved.

Joresh shrugged at the shifter's comment. People feel need a to connect to their ancestors. They want to feel like they are a part of something greater then themselves, and they want to put that part of a pedestal. To idolize the past and only see the best parts of it. It's healthy in some ways, but sometimes people focus on the past instead of looking to the future. Then you wind up doing foolish things like fighting century long wars, long after the original combatants expired.

<Hopefully we can prevent the same mistake from being made twice.>

[CandyLaser]

Orlov kept his eyes open as they traveled through the city. Plenty of guards here. The Citadel is worried. And with this much overt security, there must be others, hidden, as well. I'll have to be careful. he thought. At first, he trailed behind the others in the group, until Ignatius spoke up and volunteered to lead. Then he sped up to join with everyone else. "Do we expect any... trouble at the museum? I don't know if I'm cut out for anything dangerous, but, if anything might go wrong, I'd be much more comfortable if I had a moment to prepare beforehand."

[n0ble]

"Lead on, Master Speaker, I have not been to this city before, only read of it in books. Shame really, I'd love to have seen it in more auspicious circumstances." he says with a hint of Nostalgia, glancing around at some of the guards on a corner. "Given how high security is around here, I doubt there would be much trouble inside, Sir." Calandras says, addressing the Artificer. He continues idly, as if in ribbing him in jest, or possibly to assuage his apprehensions "Speaking of whats insides, if the explosion was somehow alchemical in nature, might you be able to identify it Beren?" <We could track the alchemical components to somewhere, doubtful though it may be that the detonation's creation involved alchemy.>

Spoiler: OCC

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I'm also taking 10 on disguise for a total of 32, because Calandras is a changeling pretending at being a human.

[3SecondCultist]

With Ignatius in the lead, the seven of you find the museum easily. Even without the gnome's help, you suspect you would have been able to find the guard barricades that have been set up in the perimeter block around the museum, down to the water and around. The rain is the only noise to offset the distinct lack of noise here. Signs of 'keep out' and 'official business of the King's Citadel' have been set up in large, clear lettering in several languages on the makeshift fences.

The ruin that lies beyond could only be the museum. The entire structure spans an entire block... or, rather, it did. What remains is little more than broken ruins, a handful of wet dust. Several of the outer parapets are still standing, and you can see that this building was likely at three floors tall. A great stone archway opens into nothingness, the crater at the center of the site. Massive statues - emblems of the former five nations of Galifar - stare down at you, the dragonhawk of Aundair and the bear of Breland the most prominent among them.

As you get close, you hear a small commotion as you are met by a patrol of guards. None of them have drawn their weapons, but they seem obviously suspicious. They are led by what looks like a lieutenant, a half-elven woman in a fine looking breastplate. It's her voice that calls out over the deluge. "State your business! This is an active investigation scene, heed the signs and leave."

[bcool999]

Ethan

Now following behind the speaker since he had more knowledge of the museum's location, Ethan nods at Shim's words and says, "Yes, judging by how tight the king has this city buttoned up, the only trouble we are likely to have is with guards denying us access... or any cursed museum artifacts disturbed by the attack." Chuckling at the ridiculousness of his last remark Ethan continues, "If anything does leap out at us, don't lose your head. I am sure there is enough fighting skill among us to win through."

When asked to state their business by the Lt. guarding the site, Ethan responds with all confidence of one being just where he was told to be, "We're investigators under orders from the king. We were told the site would remain preserved for our inspection. Have you and your men have any problems keeping people out Lieutenant...?" To the group he silently says, <I called it on the guards didn't I? Let's just hope the Bear remembered to grant us access or we may have to resort to browbeating or trickery.>

[3SecondCultist]

One of the grunts begins to pipe up. "There's no orders -" But he is cut off by a firm gesture from the lieutenant. As she steps forward past the barricade, you notice a small pendant around her neck. She's another member of the King's Shields, at least officially. Her sword remains in its sheath, as she appraises the seven of you carefully. The moment stretches out almost longer than it should, enough time for a single droplet of rain to land and roll off of you. And than she extends her hand to Ethan.

"The commander mentioned you would be coming, major. He said something about Karrnathi pride, but I chose to ignore it." For an instant, her professional composure cracks and you see the hint of a smile. "We are to let you in and keep anyone from bothering you for as long as you need. You might not be able to tell with this Host-cursed weather we're having, but it's just past midday. I can recommend a few good inns to house you, should you be needing more than this afternoon to prepare. I wouldn't stay here at night, if I were you." She turns her head reluctantly, back towards the museum. "First, it was the rescue crews. They started to feel something... off about the place. Like the emotions of those dead lived on in the rock. So much hurt, so much anger. A few of them broke down under the strain, mumbling things about the Last War. Thing is, I know some of the men who went in there. Most of them have never seen action, and yet they described it in such detail. So, by all means, conduct your investigation but do it quickly. And thank the Host we're not the night shift."

[Mechanix]

Restless spirits, in such a place as this? Perhaps it is a sign of what she already believed - the inherent unhealthiness of such cities, their crowded streets and forests of stone and brick, breeding anxiety and pain. Brought up, then, by the trauma of the museum's destruction, the shock of it.

"If our investigation yields no fruit, we may have to come back tonight, precisely for the purpose of drawing out whatever has tainted this place. It may provide us with insight into our own task." She nods, distracted, and steps past the guards. "Thank you, lieutenant," she adds.

The shifter flexes her hands, nails extending and retracting ever so slightly, features agitated as if by a low trembling, deep under the surface of her skin. She watches the desolation, taking it all in. "A place of death and sorrow. Your own piece of the Mournland. It must be cleansed."

Spoiler

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A Spot roll: (1d20+4)[10]

[CandyLaser]

The mention of "the emotions of those dead" put Orlov in mind of necromancy - not his area of expertise, but he knew a thing or two about the subject. He gave Joresh an appraising look, as well. This could be a psionic effect as well, and there he was almost completely out of his depth.

Once they got inside, he fished a brass ring out of his pocket and went to work, wrapping a piece of long, black thread around the band. A few moments later, he was done, and he put on the ring, closed his eyes, and started looking for answers to the question: what could have caused this?

Spoiler

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Taking a round to use the Skill Enhancement infusion; the ring now grants a +6 circumstance bonus to Knowledge (arcana). After that, let's make a knowledge check: [roll]1d20+18[/roll]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh nods and addresses the half-elf in a crisp, professional tone. I see. Lieutenant, I would like to interview the workers who went in. Preferably the ones in the worst condition. If any additional documentation has been created since the official report, we want all of it. Did the museum have an inventory of all of the items on site?

He noticed Beren's look and shrugged. I'll need to examine the ruin to verify anything. There are a couple of things I can try.

To the whole group he says. <We don't have a lot of time. I want to catch the first train to Flamekeep in the morning. Lets get this done now.>

[bcool999]

Ethan

Ethan smiles as he shakes the Lieutenant's hand and listens to her tale of strange happenings around the site, smile fading as he listens. "The Last War left scars on everyone who took part not all of them were physical," and I for one should know "but I never heard of those who never went acting like that." Ethan shakes his head uneasily, "Thanks for the warning, but if it has something to do with the attack we may have to check it out."

After the others start moving forward into the ruins, Ethan remains with the Lieutenant and says, "If you happen to be worried you wounded my Karrnathi pride with the delay earlier, we could always reconcile over drinks at one of those inns you mentioned earlier. After your shift is up of course."

Spoiler

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Diplomacy to flirt! (possibly to hilarious results on a failure): (1d20-2)[17]

[3SecondCultist]

The lieutenant smiles wistfully at Ethan for a moment... before pulling off her left glove and revealing a prominent silver band on her next to last finger. "Sorry, sweetheart. I was reconciled a long time ago." It's obvious that were she not previously engaged, she might entertain the idea. Yet, she finds the situation oddly humorous, and two of her companions chuckle behind her back. She turns around and they are immediately cowed into silence.

All levity ends at the threshold.

Beyond, there is only emptiness and devastation. From the outside, all you could see through the doors was the collapsed roof and the hint of rubble inside the outer wall. But the moment you climb the landing and pass through, you realize the extent of the damage. The explosion radius seems massive, and up close looks even larger than sixty feet. Great black streaks of despair scratch at the marble floors, and huge chunks of fallen masonry from the collapse of the atrium ceiling fill the center of the hall. There, new rain mixes with the ashes of the fallen. For whatever reason, very little beyond the initial blast radius seems to have been directly effected: you estimate that a large portion of the damage was due to the structural damage and resulting rubble. The twin staircases to the upper levels on the far left and right sides of the massive chamber seem unaffected, although there is little to the third floor of the building. The bomber likely knew the blueprint well enough to predict that it would collapse, or was otherwise incredibly lucky in their efforts. Worse still, you get the sense that the very air around you is upset, terrified and full of sorrow. It's as though the emotions of those who died still echo in your footsteps. The guards are eerily quiet, as though they do not wish to disturb the funeral pyre, the foundation of mortal ash upon which the rubble now sits. It is the lieutenant again who breaks the silence.

"We've been trying to keep the workers with the most severe effects at the Temple of the Host with the remaining injured, but a few have slipped away. The Citadel is currently compiling a casualty list, and they're being added onto 'secondary casualties'. I'll make sure you get the list. And you'll have to ask one of the staff for a manifest. After the attack, the vaults were all cleared out, so you won't find anything here. Those who aren't dead or skipped town will be holed up in Brokenblade Castle: I can also arrange to have them meet you if you don't want to make the trip." The half-elf seems solemn for a moment, and then, as an afterthought: "I'm Meera, by the way."

As Orlov looks around, he gets the vague impression that some kind of magic was at work here, although he can find few traces of it now. This attack does not match any kind of conventional or historical arcane weapon, but the configuration of the attack in a near-perfect circle definitely suggests a geometrical design to the attack itself. Explosions are rarely so neat.

Spoiler

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You're all welcome to make more Spot / Listen checks for things, or any other skill checks you feel are appropriate to the scenario. The map is up on Roll20, so I would give it a look.

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh clasps his hands behind his back and surveys the wreckage with a dispassionate look on his face. He had some experience in dealing with foreign thoughts and emotions due to his mind reading abilities, so the emanations from the ruin did not disturb him as much as it might have otherwise. The fact that hundreds of people did not die here did move him at all.

Thank you Lieutenant Meera. Please make arrangements to have those people escorted here from the Castle as soon as possible. If you could arrange for one of the museum staff to deliver the manifest, that would be appreciated. I hate to make you run errands like this, but we are on a tight schedule.

He frowned. It was possible that there was some psionic component. Implanting foreign emotions and memories was not an uncommon technique among Telepaths. But what would be the purpose of this effect? The main objective of the terrorists were to cause fear and mistrust amongst the Five Nations. That was accomplished by killing hundreds of people in a public space. This effect was unnecessary to achieve that objective.

<Hero, do you sense anything?>

He pulls out a crystal rod from his pack. He examines the ruins for any clues he can find.

Spoiler

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So from his current position, not going any further into the ruins at this point.

Using Dorje of Detect Magic/Psionics
Use Psionic Device: (1d20+11)[18]

While its activated:
Psicraft (1d20+19)[30]
Knowledge: Psionics (1d20+14)[26]

He asks Hero if Mindsight is picking up anything.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ignatius takes a deep breath, then another one. The physical devastation and its emotional echoes remind him far too much of his experiences in the Last War and the Day of Mourning for his liking. But he's not the tender young gnome of sixty-two years who fell to pieces for days after experiencing the loss of his whole unit in a major ambush; he's much more experienced with loss now, and it only takes him a few moments of contemplation and a mental prayer to Aureon to regain his composure.

The gnome slowly walks towards the devastation and goes down to one knee at the edge. Raising his arms in a gesture of blessing, he murmurs a benediction for the souls who died there: "I honor those whose lives were cut short before their time; Dol Arrah, may you remember those who died, that their sacrifice may not be forgotten. I commend any lingering souls to Dolurrh to find their rest; Dol Dorn, may you guard them from the Keeper's grasp, that their spirits may not be trapped on Eberron. I pray for the families of the lost; Boldrei, may you ease the sorrow of those left behind by these victims, that they may move beyond their suffering. I swear that we shall do our utmost to ensure that the perpetrator of this atrocity is brought to justice; Balinor, may you show us the quickest path to our quarry, that they may not take any more innocent lives."

Ignatius bows his head in silent reflection for several moments, then stands and retrieves a small pouch from his pack from which he extracts a magnifying glass and pulls out and dons some thin gloves. "Onatar, show me what collapsed this museum and destroyed the exhibits that honor you," he prays and, moving carefully through the wreckage, he examines the blast site for any hints of what could have cause such destruction.

Spoiler

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Ignatius pulls out his inquisitive's kit (+4 circumstance to Search) and casts divine insight (+12 insight to Search) before searching the rubble.

Search check: (1d20+19)[37]

[3SecondCultist]

While Joresh and Hero are unsuccessful at finding any trace of mental or psionic activity, Ignatius searches and claws beneath the rubble. His instincts seem guided by divine aid, as the gnome seems to know just where to look at any given time. It doesn't take long for him to uncover something. At least, it could be something. The gnome uncovers the faintest trace of pure midnight blue, beneath one of the fallen columns from above. However, it will require a great deal of force to pry free from the rubble, which looks to be among the largest remaining piece of masonry left on the scene. It also explains why the initial report hasn't uncovered it yet.

[rypt]

Esara

Standing in the farmer's field, Esara turns her face skyward, and for a moment, seems to embrace the downpour. The cool drops on her skin, the smell of wet earth, the staccato patter on the roof of the adjacent barn. Having been raised in Stormhome, it wasn't until she was 19 years old that Esara first experienced the rain. In the years since, she has found it to be a remarkably soothing ambiance. The perfect accompaniment to the sound of Orien apologies.

When Joresh offers her one of his makeshift cloaks, Esara accepts it graciously. Not for herself, but for Fiowyn, whose slumped posture suggests that she does not share her master's fondness for falling water.

As they make their way into the city, Esara allows Ignatius to take the lead. Having visited Wroat a number of times during her travels, she is ready to supplement the aged gnome's directions with her own in the event Ignatius's memory fails him.

Arriving at the museum, the scale of the devastation is utterly distressing. The Citadel's report had described a 120-foot diameter blast and the collapse of an atrium. This is a ruin the size of a city block. A total loss. Equally as troubling is the lieutenant's description of the effects the rubble has had on the rescuers, a description that reminds Esara of the Mournland. In the weeks following the cataclysm, similarly strange maladies were reported among the crews of those airships that had flown too low over the blighted land.

After waiting for Ignatius to complete his benediction, she touches a hand to the gnome's shoulder and then begins her own examination of what remains of the museum. With a lilting, almost sorrowful call, Fiowyn takes flights to observe their efforts from above.

Spoiler

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Esara's Spot check: (d20+10)[11]
Esara's Listen check: (d20+4)[21]
Esara's Search check: (d20+6)[19]
Esara's Spellcraft check for magical effects that could have been responsible for the blast: (d20+16)[27]

Fiowyn's Spot check from 25 ft. above the tallest remains of the museum: (d20+18)[19] This is primarily for any sort of pattern that might not be easily distinguished from the ground.

[PairO'Dice Lost]

Ignatius looks heavensward and smiles briefly as his search bears fruit. "Thank you, Onatar," he says, then alerts the others: "I've found something, everyone! It's hidden under this column, here, and I'll need some help to uncover it." He levers himself to his feet with a bit of creaking from his knees and shakes the dust off his gloves. "Autumn, perhaps you could aid me? I believe you're the strongest one among us. Or, Joresh, you mentioned that your talents are similar to a conjurer's; does that mean you could summon creatures strong enough to move the column?"

[Mechanix]

Autumn nods quietly at the gnome's comment, approaching the column. "Give me a moment," she says, and puts one hand to the stone - her elbow tenses as she presses slightly on it, then she slides her hand across slowly, as if testing the strength and weight of the stone. She pries out one smaller piece of rubble to get a better access to the large piece trapping the column, then steps back, nodding to herself, looking critical.

"Do any of you know enlargement spells?"

Spoiler

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I'm trying to assess the difficulty of moving the column to see if this will require shifting and possibly other stuff, of if it would be a lost cause.

[CandyLaser]

"I can't easily make anyone larger, but I could make you stronger. Will that suffice?"

[Rofltrollcopter]

Well done. Joresh joins Ignatius and examines the column. Yeah, I can do something to help. Just tell me when your ready to start lifting it Autumn.

Spoiler: OOC:

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When Autumn starts lifting, Joresh will create 1st level Astral Constructs using 1 pp each until the column is moved. They should each be capable of picking up 200lbs.

[bcool999]

Ethan

Ethan's previously promiscuous mood, lessened at the knowledge of the lieutenant's marital status, turns cold and dead at the sight of the buildings interior. His body might stand there rigid and motionless, but his mind races back years to the war.

Spoiler: Ethan's Internal Monologue

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The mission was simple. An Aundairian Fire Mage was wreaking havoc on the infantry and cavalry units. Despite the battle mages' best efforts, his spells were burning through the troops like dry kindling. That is where I came in. The top brass would distract Cloden the Red and troops under his command with the undead corps. Meanwhile, I would be sneaking around the conflict looking for my chance to end Cloden. With him gone, the Undead should be able to clean up the rest.

It had started off fine. The undead were holding despite the fireballs raining down on them, leaving ragged gaps in their lines. It was disturbing how they didn't try to dodge, and how some kept moving forward without arms, without legs, and sometimes without a head or whilst on fire.

I had to ignore my protestations for the undead troops for know since I had a mission to accomplish. Fortune had favored us this day since a squall had blown up during the night and left the field wet, muddy, and unconductive to flame. Crawling through that mud up a small rise behind the enemy, I finally say the madman. Cloden the Red, cackling with glee at the most recent spell that he had cast which sent no fewer than four Karnnati soldiers up in flames like matchsticks.

Glad to be ridding the world of one such as him I liked up my shot and waited for the perfect moment to let fly, which I did. Sadly lady luck was against me in that moment, because one of Cloden's bodyguards had just stepped into the path of the bolt. The man fell like a bag of rocks, but Cloden was alerted to my presence. Before I had taken two steps away, I was lifted off my feet and thrown into the air. As I turned in midair I saw two things, one was Cloden pointing at me while gesticulating wildly. The second was a tiny little red bead getting closer to my face.

After that, I existed in an excruciating half-consciousness. I remember seeing Cloden faintly, and hearing his voice as he regarded me.
"Well, well, I didn't know rats in Karrnath grew to such a size. You came rather close to killing me rat, but I killed you first so all is forgiven. I think I will leave you as you are. Perhaps we will meet again after your corpse hunters get to you."
He left me after that, either orders had come for him to retreat or I had managed to spook him more than he let on. Either way, by rights I should have died, but the mud that hit me also insulated me from the heat. It flash dried around me and made me look like a burnt corpse. I lay entombed there until the corpse hunters came, dancing on the line between life and death. Remarkably, most of my body was able to be healed, but my eyes and the area around them, the only part of me not covered with mud, took the full brunt of the blasts. They were left a pair of milky white orbs where before they were proud cerulean.

If I hadn't had Edward Shrout looking out for me. Providing me the magic items that keep my effectiveness at it's peak... I don't like to think what I would have become. I understand it was a war, and such things are done to one side or the other. Still... I don't have it in me to forgive Cloden. Not just for the pain he caused me, as excruciating as it was, but for the many other soldiers who had no defense from his hungry flames.

As the others start to move to clear the rubble, Ethan shakes himself out of his reverie. "I will go get a birds eye view." he says nodding to the right gallery about 40ft. off the ground and still standing without apparent damage. He climbs up there and scans the hall for anything and everything that seems out of place... or in it's proper place but should have been moved in the blast.

Spoiler

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Spot: (1d20+5)[14]

[Mechanix]

Autumn considers the Artificer's words for a moment, then shakes her head. "My gauntlets already provide me greater strength. Every little bit can help, but if you are limited in your use of powers, perhaps it might be better to save it for some later need." Then she breathes out slowly, closing her eyes, and stretches her arms languidly. "All right, everyone who isn't helping me lift take a step back. This may or may not work, but it's gonna be hazardous to bystanders either way." She spreads her feet slightly, anchoring herself on the ground, and cracks her knuckles, her whole muscular figure shiverring briefly.

Then a low rumble comes from deep within her throat, and the cracking of bones and snapping of tendons from her back and shoulders; she opens her mouth and her teeth extend into cruel fangs with a terrible grinding noise. The cloak falls off her shoulders, revealing the glittering chainmail beneath; her muscles bulge and ripple, her hair takes on a coarse texture, stripes of black and vivid orange run through it and her uncovered arms. Then - a silver braid in her hair shines brightly and is consumed in a brief silver flame, and the shifter expends, the ground crackling beneath her feet, her hands trembling as they expand to the size of a man's head, and then she stands in front of the column - towering at thirteen feet tall.

"Now," she says in a dump growl, eyes shining ominously as she eyes Joresh - then she turns to the column, plants her hands in the stone, and after a few moments she roars, the very ground trembling under the sound, dust shaken off the rubble, and madness fills her eyes; then the terrible body is put in motion, berserker strength lifting the stone inch by inch.

Spoiler

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Strength 18, +2 from Longtooth, +2 from Tiger heritage, +2 from dire shifting braid (enlarge), +4 from rage, total of 28 for a +9 modifier. If Orlov wants to increase her strength that's +10.
(1d20+9)[22]

[Rofltrollcopter]

Joresh nodded and focused. A shimmering crystal of translucent white material appeared by the pillar, quickly joined by another one. The crystal grew until they resembled stout humanoids, not too dissimilar from dwarves. They silently took up positions flanking Autumn and attempted to assist lifting the pillar. If their assistance was inadequate, he would summon more until the job was done.

Spoiler

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Construct 1:
(1d20+2)[5]
Construct 2:
(1d20+2)[19]
if necessary:
Construct 3:
(1d20+2)[17]
if necessary
Construct 4:
(1d20+2)[5]
if necessary
Construct 5:
(1d20+2)[6]

Edit: three constructs is enough to do it. 3 power points spent.

[n0ble]

Calandras observes Autum's transformation with a guarded stance that quickly gives way to relief That looked...painful. "Impressive, m'lady, the tales I've heard of shifters do not do you stature justice. Nor your strength.". As the constructs move to aid the shifter, Calandras paces over and causally observes alongside Ignatius and Beren, "A good find, master Speaker, clearly the Host smiles upon you." He feels a slight pang of jealousy at not having been the one to discover whatever was under the pillar. Banishing the negative thoughts from his mind, Calandras focuses his mind and intellect on what could possibly be under the pillar I wonder what could be down there...

[3SecondCultist]

As the massive Autumn - with the help of Joresh's newly summoned helpers - lifts the huge column, you feel a kind of release, a tension uncoiling into the atmosphere of the abandoned museum. For a moment, the shadows seem longer, more intense. But it was probably nothing.

There, beneath the cracked stone and ashes, lies something strange. A bit of twisted metal here and there, too burned to be really immediately recognizable as anything. But it seems to have housed a kind of dark blue crystal. The crystal itself is just as broken, little fragments sloughing off in different directions as you examine it more closely. There is no power in the vessel anymore, although you suspect it once did, and quite recently. And you notice something else. The framework of it, the way it's been broken, more-so even than the residual damage, looks like whatever force was contained within the crystal broke out, as opposed to breaking in. Esara, with her working knowledge of spells and their everyday use, recognizes the object as none other than a Khyber dragonshard, and a very pure one at that. Even in this state, it gleams with a kind of inner radiance that only a work of very fine quality could match. The dragonshard looks like it was connected to the metal workings, and the more you look at it, the more you come to see the remains as a kind of harness for the stone itself.

"By all the powers..." Meera steps forward slightly, towards the edge of the blast radius where Calandras and Ignatius already stand. "What is that thing?"

[Mechanix]

Stone cracks and crumbles. Flakes of marble fall like snow from between her clawed fingertips. She roars - she grunts - the constructs lend her their strength. And in the end she pushes the mass of stone up, up, above her shoulders, on her extended arms - until she topples it aside, and a deafening sound of crashing rocks reverberate through the ruins of the museum. She looks down at - the ash, the ground, the...

his body turned to ash in the blink of an eye

the blood...

her pain

Autumn screams. Not a roar of defiance or anger, not the terrifying shouts of a beast, a scream of pain, of sorrow, of confusion. She presses her head between her hands, as light flickers around her, as mist and shadows gather like a mantle, and her eyes - her eyes turn blue, and sad, and so human. She falls - like the great column itself - toppling to one knee, scream fading into a sobbing cry.

"All of this. All this pain. The nightmares every night. The blood on my hands. Is this how I am repaid? Is this. Is. Is this. Is. This. This. This."

The features shift - face rippling briefly like a changeling assuming a new guise, and fading, but for the blue eyes which remain. The work of magic nesting itself in the shifter's heart. And then she finds something - the rage of the barbarian, the wrath of the beast, pulsating in her grasp. A promise of forgetfulness. The blue eyes turn on the crowd, and she knows in an instant - all are in her reach. This mighty body is the vessel of her rage, and it subsumes her. No more tears. Only wrath now.

Autumn stands up again, her whole body shiverring with tears and anger, and her eyes catch in the whole of the scene, the shimmering constructs leaving her indifferent, the cloaked adventurers eliciting a snarl and a glimmer of madness in her eyes - but then she sees the guards in the uniforms of Breland, and she forgets about all others. Terrible knife-like teeth appear in a grimace, she reaches out with one hand...

"You failed us."

Lieutenant Meera's pendant catches the light and glimmers in a trick of the eye.

Then at last Autumn does roar.

"You failed us!"

And she leaps.

[n0ble]

"Oh dear. Joresh, get your constructs to restrain her man! ". As he says this Calandras draws his crossbow and points it squarely at Autumn, tracking her as she leaps. Well, this could have gone better. the thought is bitter as it enters his mind.

---

* post roll count doesn't match database

[bcool999]

Ethan

Seeing the shifter in pain, Ethan is about to go down and see what is wrong. However, once she leaps upon Meera, talking crazy and digging fang and claw into the lieutenant, Ethan has his crossbow in hand an loaded in the blink of an eye. "Stand down Autumn!" Ethan shouts the command even as his crossbow thrums and bolts fly toward his crazed ally.

Spoiler

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Free action: Draw crossbow with the least crystal of return on it
Free Action: Shout at Autumn.
Full round Action: Rapid Shot full attack against Autumn:
Attack1: (1d20+14)[24] (-2 for rapid shot -2 for distance) Damage: (2d8+8)[12]
Attack2: (1d20+14)[18] (-2 for rapid shot -2 for distance) Damage: (2d8+8)[16]
Attack3: (1d20+9)[25] (-2 for rapid shot -2 for distance -5 for iterative) Damage: (2d8+8)[20]

[rypt]

Esara

"That," Esara answers, "is a Khyber dragonshard. The kind the Zil use to bind the elementals that power our airships, our wind galleons and the Orien's lightning rail." She steps towards the shard, hurriedly at first, but more slowly the closer she gets. "This is one of the purest crystals I have ever seen, but it is irreparably damaged." Indeed, there can be no mistaking the pattern of fracture and fragmentation.

A breathless gasp escapes her lips, the dawn of a sudden and dreadful understanding. She had seen this before. In Trolanport. Amidst the screams of her colleagues and a fury of wind and lightning.

"If that shard had contained a fire elemental...." She glances at the broken and flame-scorched stone that surrounded her, her words, like the dragonshard itself, only fragments of a whole. "If it had broken loose..." But the size of the blast. "It would have required a tremendously powerful specimen..." Or could there have been more than one? "There may be others. We need to keep--"

Fiowyn's shrill cries halt Esara her mid-sentence. Lost in her own thoughts, she had not noticed Autumn's distress until it was too late. "Autumn, no!" she cries out as the shifter bounds across the atrium and tears into Meera, painting the floor with the young lieutenant's blood. As Ethan's arrows streak overhead, Esara curses, "Sovereign and Six, you're going to kill her. We have to get her under control!"

The air around Esara stirs as she weaves her spell. Drawing on the awesome force that is her birthright, she gestures sharply towards her enraged companion. The sky rumbles as a deafening blast thunders besides Autumn and the fallen lieutenant, its spherical shock wave visible in the drops of falling rain.

Spoiler

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Esara casts great thunderclap so as to only affect Autumn and Meera. In the event that Autumn chooses to retaliate, Esara will respond by casting greater mirror image as an immediate action.