[3.5] The March of Unmaking [IC]

[Cardea]

{table=head]Player|Character|Other
Userpay|Miirikaujir Vaeriternesj|Punching blasting sand shaping draconic angelic guy. Weird as his name.
mootoall|Roland Noble|I put summons in your summons so you can summon while you summon.
Vael|Sahkmet|Egyptian dragon Mailman-style blaster. 'cause I'm crazy.
Niezck|Anselm|Iron Man- WITH A LIGHTSABER![/table]

Campaign Info / Player Knowledge Reference Guide

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Sindbaro

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The City of Absolution, Sindbaro. An Elven City, in design and origin, ruled by an elusive being known as The Voice. While few see this being, who is rumored to have been council with all deities at some point another, more people see his work force; the Bodies of War. Their names are a misnomer, as they handle the normal affairs of the city.

The city itself is located in a a strange location. Flight is impossible, as is normal means of teleportation. Attempts to do so have resulted in failure, and a loss in spells. Travel by boat is possibly, but only through the Morinth River. The only other methods of of travel to the city is through various paths through the Or'vinth Mountains. People have teleported on the trails.

The Voice

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Barely anything is known about this being. The only thing that is publicly known is that he is referenced as the Leader of Sindbaro by the Bodies of War.

Bodies of War

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A group of individuals that publicly rule over Sindbaro. While there are eight confirmed Bodies, only three of which are known by title.

Mr. Creed
A Gnome who handles being a face appearance and spokesperson for Sindbaro. Dresses in in regal clothing, preferring the color Gold.

Arcturus
A Half-Orc who commands the City Guard. Seen only when the City Guard is on parade or needed to help out Diplomatic Allies of the City. Dresses in Dark Green Armor.

Mistress Bairne
Only mentioned a few times in some speeches of Mr. Creed. Elven woman who dresses in Light Green.

The Eyes that have spawned in the world have been few and far in between, but devastating on arrival. For the past couple of months, Sindbaro has been sending help to the towns and individuals to those who have been harmed by the Eyes. Refugees have been flocking to Sandbaro, coming from areas affected by eyes that are not able to be helped, and they've always been taken in without a question or word, put into either a communal living area if alone, or in a new home if they have a family. There have also been refugees from areas that have been decimated by the 'Xorhinal Army'. So far, several hundred people have moved to Sindbaro.

Today, however, Sindbaro has requested help from those who are able, which is where you come in. A couple of days ago, a Halfling dressed in brown maternity clothing came to you, with a message that caught your attention; that Sindbaro has a Chromium Dragon residing in their city, who is dying slowly. They have perceived a way of helping him, but they need... back up.

OOC

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And here we go folks. Give me a reason why you're helping, and proceed to enter into Sindbaro.

[userpay]

Miiri stands for a few moments, thoughtful. "Thank you for your message little one. I... believe I shall go." She can't help but feel loathing however for going to the help of a chromium dragon but... what is sure these days? Little of her connection to Bahamut remains, as if it had been closed off. True maybe this chromium isn't evil but... who knows. Maybe this one knows something of what is going on. Closing her eyes she hums the refrain of a traveling song, focusing on where she wants to go.

And with a pop she stands on a trail that should lead to the city. At a startled gasp she opens her eyes and realizes that she's startled some traveler on the path.

[Niezck]

With the halfling having departed, Anselm knew what he had to do next.

"Activate Wings."

Two golden-yellow wings, seemingly composed of pure force, expanded from the back of the iron-clad warrior, lifting him upward.

"Set course for Sindbaro. Engage."

With a thunderous roar, Anselm found himself being projected forwards, hurtling toward the horizon at great speed.

---

The journey was long, but Righteousness kept him sustained throughout, generating food and water when appropriate and shielding him from the weather and the purity of the suit relieving him of his need to sleep.

As he approached the city and saw its splendor, he began his descent to a suitable landing spot on the footpaths leading in.

"Locate a suitable pathway and take us down."

The armour responded, taking them down and landing gently on the muddy ground.

"Anything out there?"

The armour replies, a strangely angelic voice yet tainted by the magic keeping it in the suit.

"Nothing to report, sir."

Nodding to himself, Anselm heads toward the city, hoping to find this dragon that requires his help.

[mootoall]

Roland isn't one to reject a plea for help, and never having been to Sandbaro finds this an excellent chance to travel. The promise of seeing a real Chromium dragon was just icing. So, he picked up his campsite, and went on his way, for the long trail on foot to the city. Travel across the river wouldn't be hard- after all, the cloud that seemed to follow him wasn't just any cloud.

[AmberVael]

Walking.

The worst way to travel.

She could get around fine without using magic. She couldn't get around fine without using her wings. But to be prevented from using either, that irritated her. So- walking.

It was quite beneath her, she thought, but there was nothing for it. If she wanted to get to Sindbaro, that's what she'd have to do. So here she was. Plodding along like some kind of hopeless pack animal.

Of course, truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure why she was making this journey. She didn't really care about other people- she wasn't feeling charitable (least of all charitable enough to have to walk this far), but she supposed the dragon is what brought her in. This was the first chance she was going to have to really get a dragon on these planes in her debt, so she could figure out what was going on.

So she puts up with her journey on foot, though not without many an internal complaint.

[Cardea]

The day is quiet. A few clouds drift in the sky, and so do flocks of birds. On the paths you travel on foot are dozens of refugees, moving in large groups, both for comfort and for protection. Safety in numbers, after all. Most have caravans or carts full of supplies, and a few stragglers clearly are only carrying their life possessions in a few small bags. To the sudden appearance of Miiri, they react in surprise and fear, as the being is recognized by the common folk. And even more steer clear of the grumbling would-be god. They now walk on the Path of Prosperity, which leads to Sindbaro's Southern Entrance. They make way for the two figures on their now joined paths, as they continue to march on the paths to Sindbaro. And several are wary of the cloud following the Halfling. And a few are confused as to why someone is attempting to fly into the city.

Niezck

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A) You can't FLY into the city. I've gone over this before, in the plot pitch.
B) Roll a DC 25 Spot check to notice Sahkmet. DC 30 says you notice Miiri. You notice Roland and his cloud, however.

[mootoall]

Roland continues into the great city, taking careful note of any other notable travelers. What were the chances, after all, of him being the only one asked for help?

[Niezck]

"Maintain a sensor perimeter."

Spotting Sahkmet in the distance, Anselm takes note of her presence but does nothing - best not to engage until their identification is known. Besides, by the looks of her she was nothing special, no need bothering.

"Continuing along the path will achieve entry into the city, correct?"

"Indeed, sir. Continue the projected course."

And so the huge armoured suit stomps forward.

[userpay]

Miiri tilts her head, considering the somewhat downtrodden scene that lay around her, then flashes a grin at refugees. "No need to be shy folks... Such stillness, mayhap you could use a song." From there Miiri entertains the refugees with song and dance, all the while moving towards the city.

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sing
(1d20+28)[47]
dance
(1d20+28)[30]
All Among the Barley

Now is come September, the hunter's moon begun
And through the wheat and stubble, we turn the green to dun
The leaves of pale and yellow are kindling into red
And the ripe and bearded barley is hanging down its head.

Chorus: All among the barley who would not be blithe
When the ripe and bearded barley is smiling on the scythe.

The Spring is like a young maid who does not know her mind
The Summer is a tyrant the most ungracious kind
The Autumn is an old friend who loves where all she can
For she brings the bearded barley to gladden the hearts of man.

Chorus

The wheat is like a rich man, he's sleek and well to do
The oats are like a pack of girls, laughing and dancing too
The rye is like a miser, he's sulky, lean and small
But the ripe and bearded barley is monarch of them all.

Chorus x2

[Cardea]

The people around Miiri seem to lighten up, but keep their distance. Some children begin dancing around her, ignoring the caution of their parents. The melody plays up and down the surrounding mountains, echoing and echoing.

_/_/_/

After an hour or two of travel, you each come to your gates, the only difference for Roland being the river. The gates themselves are large rings made of obsidian, inscribed with countless words of power from different languages. Almost half of the ring is buried in the ground, still leaving enough above ground that a small house could go through. Every time a traveler moves through the ring, the runes light up.

[mootoall]

Roland, whistling quietly to himself, reaches up, asking the elemental to carry him over the river. It gently moves down and engulfs him, carrying him over the running water. After it sets him down, he enters the gate, twirling the stick he'd picked up as a walking aide.

[Niezck]

"Determine properties of the ring."

A slight delay to the usually prompt voice as it seems to be thinking, if such a thing can happen. Moments later it speaks up once again.

"Ring appears to be composed of obsidian, sir. Very strong, very resistant and seemingly magical. Caution is advised."

"Noted. Maintain sensor tracking and continue."

The face plate encasing the holy warrior pulls back as he looks the ring up and down with his own eyes, no longer augmented by the suit.

"Interesting ... Well, on we go."

A flick of a switch on his right wrist and a long, shining blade surges forth. It seems quite immaterial and somehow awe-inspiring, yet wrong in some way. Holding the blade at the ready to his side, Anselm steps into the ring.