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The Ocelot is a beautiful piece of artifice, a stately airship whose speed is matched by its luxury. Within its spacious hull their are opulent quarters for passengers, grand dining halls, ball rooms, even a small pool. Its cargo bay holds spices from halfway across the world, deep crystal mined in Adar and negotiated for in the most secret of meetings, exotic devices crafted by House Cannith's best, even rare luxuries imported from wholly different planes. Its sails ripple in the wind - though they play no role in the ship's flight, they provide the deck with a beautiful aesthetic touch, and the dweomers woven into them provide contingencies for a surprising number of emergencies.
Unfortunately, one emergency not taken into account is the chance of a total binding failure - that the Khyber dragonshard containing a powerful bound fire elemental, the source of the ship's propulsion and lift, might fail, releasing the elemental and dooming the ship to fall. Normally, this is completely impossible. The spells of binding are woven such that all it would take to keep the elemental bound in desperate circumstances would be a hand-long splinter of the dragonshard core which is the size of a small dragon. It would be easier to destroy the ship outright than to damage the dragonshard core to the point of a binding failure. Nonetheless, at the moment, the ship is plummeting into the sea, and a fire elemental that is very eager to set all the combustible materials around it ablaze after a long imprisonment is doing just that. Wherever you are when the ship starts falling, you have barely any time to react before it hits the sea with a sickening crunch, an impact that knocks you all senseless.
When you come to, after what must be a short time - had it been more than a few minutes, you surely would have drowned - you awake to find yourself amidst the shattered remnants of the ship. The hull is broken into fragments of soarwood, not a one any bigger than a lifeboat, and the wares and furnishings of the ship are spread out in the sea. What's beneath the water is drenched, and what's above is ablaze. Each of you can see nothing of any survivors, nor of the rogue elemental a few of you caught a glimpse of before the ship fell. There is, however, within just a few hundred yards of you, a lighthouse, seemingly jutting out of the middle of a wide open sea. Around it there is a small island, its space less than that of the Ocelot's main deck.
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Vaasth X'Itt walks around on the deck of the ship, bored. He stands exactly six feet tall at full height, with a strangely artistically beautiful body frame and face, as if he was sculpted. His eyes are a strange, alien color of amber with black flecks surrounding(or a part of?) his pupils. His hair is pitch black and slicked back, reaching two thirds of the way between the bottom of his head and the top of his shoulders. He wears no armor, just a grey-green tunic and a pair of nice leather leggings and crude leather sandals. On one arm is a pinkish brown tentacle which he tries to keep wrapped around his arm, as if it had a chance for hiding it and a small, bony thing on the back of his neck with a small toothy mouth, the piece of bone looking like a vertebra punching through the skin. Over his right eye is a strange tattoo, consisting of a strait line and strange symbols and in his belt is a somewhat corroded leather scabbard with a strange sword resting in it.
He looks up when he hears an unusual sound of rushing air and soon realizes the ocean is indeed directly in front of him. "Well... zaaz'k."
"Blarg..."
"I know, be quiet."
The shock sends him into the maddening blackness of his own unconscious mind, where he dwells for an indeterminate amount of time. He then woke up and coughs up a lungful of water before spouting more daelkyr swear words. He looks around at some of the burning wreckage for others, he then concentrates to help him strengthen his body in this somewhat terrible situation and with a sickening series of creaking and popping sounds a suit of armor made entirely of bone and sinew covers every inch of his body and a mass of whip-thin, wiry tentacles shoot from his back to sense movement in the air and water.
He starts swimming around in search of other people or(more preferably) someplace dry to sit and look for a safe place.
Vaasth makes it to the island with ease, though he does not spot any other survivors on the way their. Once he reaches the island, he notices what looked to be piles of stone or boulders from a distance are actually statues of some sort, though too worn by wind and wave for what they depict to be made out well. They seem vaguely humanoid in form, though the proportions, as best as can be made out, don't speak of humans. The lighthouse has a door on the side nearest the wrecked ship, an impressive portal of livewood ringed with silver. Their is a large doorhandle, though it seems somewhat rusted.
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I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
Kyrek is violently shaken awake by a nine foot tall gorilla.
Good to see you're still with us boss.
Yes. I'm alright, insofar as I'm alive. Next time you shake me awake, please do it a bit more gently. Are you alright?
The large ape grunts in the affirmative.
I think we should head out to that island over yonder.
Yes, that does seem like the best idea. Let's go.
With that, Kyrek leaps into the water and turns into a Shark. George, the Ape, leaps into the water and beings swimming along. Kyrek swims circles around George, being wary of predators in the area.
Spoiler
George's swim is 16, he is taking 10. I had a more elaborate post, but the forums have been unreliable lately.
Hector Malka returns to consciousness deep within the bowels of the ship, where things seem to be competing for speed as to whether they can burn to a cinder or sink into the depths faster.
Hector is a short, middle-aged man on the portly side though not outright fat. He is of the body-type most often referred to as 'jolly'. He has a receding hairline and generally looks like someone's favorite absent-minded uncle. It is only when one looks him full in the face that they receieve the sense that there is something subtly.. wrong.. about his features. Something alien. This wrongness is only compounded by his eyes. His eyes, pupil, sclera and all, are black as the night sky, with tiny winking stars within them.
"Oh dear," he murmurs, and begins the slow and arduous task of first extracting himself from the thoroughly destroyed ship and then began awkwardly dog-paddling towards the lighthouse and shore. His swimming speaks of a man who spends a little too much time unlocking the mysteries of the universe and not enough time, say, jogging.
Spoiler
Swim: (1d20-2)[14](12)
__________________ People seemed to like this better, but only marginally so - the way one might prefer to be stabbed than shot. Optimally, one isn't stabbed or shot. Optimally, one eats some cake! But there are times when cake is not available, and instead we are destroyed. This is the deep poetry of the universe. -- Tycho Brahe
Quentin Belk was loafing up on deck, leaning against the railing near Ocelot's bow. His apparently casual attitude was belied, though, by the fact that he'd already shouldered his quiver and the pack with all his gear - with landing in Stormreach still hours away. No question about it, he thought for the umpteenth time, I'm more than ready to get back. Sharn's nice, as long as you have enough money, but home is where the heart is. And it's past time I got back home. That last bit was new, though, and it took him aback for a moment - it was the first time he'd consciously thought of anyplace as "home" since... well anyway, it'd been a few years since he thought of himself as having a home.
Lost in thought and facing out toward the horizon, QB didn't notice the first signs of Ocelot's distress; and the disaster proceeded so rapidly that he didn't have time to act once the deck began tilting and the sea came rushing up to meet the ship...
QB comes back to himself, adrift on the ocean amid the wreckage of the once-proud airship. As he treads water, he scans the horizon to look for other survivors, or even a suitable chunk of soarwood he can use as a flotation device. A nearby lighthouse immediately draws his eyes; reasoning that there must therefore be land nearby, he strikes out in that direction. Something troubles him, though, and even as he makes for the lighthouse he wracks his brain trying to recall from the map what islands or other landmasses Ocelot's course was supposed to have passed near.
Vaasth looks from left to right to see if anyone's there to stop him from doing it before putting his hand on the portal to open it, making sure to draw his sword and untangle his twin before stepping in. "Tz'uuvip..... yaa'li... No one here to stop me from entering."
"Gurb."
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My Deviantart, Please enjoy it. Invincible Maiden Avatar by GryffonDurime.
The various bedraggled survivors all eventually reach the island, all within sight of each other.
For Quentin
Spoiler
You spot two more survivors still adrift, an elderly man and one much younger. They are right next to each other, and appear to be conscious.
You know the sea charts for this region like the back of your hand, and there shouldn't be any islands, not even this small, for miles around.
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I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
Hector staggered ashore, clutching his waterlogged robes to himself."Ah, other survivors, lovely!" he exclaims, spying the others. His tone of voice suggests that having his airship inexplicably fail under him and sending him nearly plummeting to his death is not an unusual occurance with him.
Or perhaps it is just that after what his life has become in the last handful of months, death does not hold quite the same terror for him as it once did.
Spoiler
Knowledge (Architecture) to see if Hector might know anything worthwhile about the lighthouse and portal: (1d20+14)[10](24)
__________________ People seemed to like this better, but only marginally so - the way one might prefer to be stabbed than shot. Optimally, one isn't stabbed or shot. Optimally, one eats some cake! But there are times when cake is not available, and instead we are destroyed. This is the deep poetry of the universe. -- Tycho Brahe
You don't recognize in particular about the lighthouse or door, but they look like normal Galifarian architecture - definitely not built by whoever made those statues. They look to be of an older style, but you couldn't pinpoint it to a precise style.
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I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
Irmaet awoke with a bit of a stary, as he slowly closed his hands around chunk of wood he had held on to (with Mr Bones). Memories flooded back. The fire elemental had inexplicably gotten free, and the airship had gone down with all hands.
He'd been in his room, and had just managed to make it to the deck when he was hit by a bit of wood and fell unconscious.
He felt about some more, and his right hand closed about a slightly wet cloth, which he wiped the seawater from his eyes with. Standing and blinking, he saw the gruff visage of Mr. Bones standing patiently and silently by him, still clutching the tray he'd been carrying when the disaster happened. Well, at least the illusion was holding.
"You can throw that away now, Mr Bones." said Irmaet, the skeleton clicking in acknowledgement as it tossed the silvered tray into the sea. No sense holding on to things like that now.
Taking a moment to clean off his and Mr Bones' clothing of dirt and salt water (through magic, of course), he waved back to the man on the shore.
"Well, Mr. Bones? Make your poleaxe somewhat useful and take us to that island. They may need some help."
The skeleton clicked obligingly, pushing the plank of soarwood like a makeshift boat and pulling it onto the island.
"Well, it appears you were planning for a fall." he remarks, stepping off the plank, with Mr Bones following soon after. "I am Irmaet the Black, and this is Mr. Bones."
"Quentin Belk. Or 'QB,' mostly. I'd say 'well met," but under the circumstances I'm not sure it's appropriate." Looking around, he takes in the rest of the group, and the open door in the side of the lighthouse where it appears that someone - another survivor? - has already entered. "We should probably get inside, out of the sun. It's just... I'm not sure what this place is, but I checked the maps before we boarded, and there weren't any islands like this anywhere near our planned course." Looking troubled, he turns and walks toward the doorway.
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_______________________________________________ "When Boba Fett told Darth Vader, "As you wish," he was really saying, "I love you.""
Past the imposing gate of the lighthouse (the door-knob now covered with a thin layer of slime after being turned by Vaasth), you see a a large metal bathysphere, rusty and battered, floating in a pool of water. As far as you can tell, the rust of the tower is entirely hollow, the light coming out of it apparently being projected by some spell placed upon the tower. Something appears to be engraved on the bathysphere, but is obscured under a thick layer of rust and algae.
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I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
A large ape comes out of the water, followed by a tall, thin Illumian dressed in robes. The ape begins pointing at the skeleton and talking to the mage in some language you don't recognize. The man responds in the same language. The two seem to be having some disagreement, but the ape stands down.
The Illumian introduces himself to Irmaek.
I am called Kyrek. I am a member of the Gatekeeper Council, and the Dawngazer cabal of my people. My..associate George is somewhat concerned about your friend (he gestures to Mr.Bones) here. I trust you keep it on a tight leash?
After making his introduction, Kyrek begins inspecting the rust and algae.
Regarding a spell: Knowledge Arcana (1d20+21)[22]
Algae (to know if anything is weird about them) (1d20+21)[24]
Spoiler
Sorry about the few posts, the board is very unreliable lately.
I suggest switching to a different board, such as Coyote Code if possible.
Just a suggestion.
You recognize the light spell cast on the lighthouse as being a variant of the simple daylight spell, though not one you are specificially familiar with.
The algae is, as far as you can tell, entirely normal. From the rate of growth, you would say the bathysphere must have been exposed to ocean waters for at least a few years without any maintenance.
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I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
Vaasth stands inside the tower, but still outside the bathysphere and turns his head when someone walks in, "WH-oh... Oh hey... survivors. I hadn't noticed anyone else... uh... I'm Vaasth." He holds his right arm out to QB, a writhing pinkish-brown tentacle latched to it halfway down his forearm.
This man is... unnerving, to say the least.
"Glur?"
"Oh, yes. This is Baai'Zo Kr'ull. He's my... little brother. Who're you?"
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QB blinks, clearly taken aback, before gingerly extending his own hand to shake with Vaasth. "Quentin Belk - QB. I remember seeing you on the ship; best I could tell, it looks like we here are the only survivors. We've got," indicating the others, "Kyrek and George; Irmaet and Mr. Bones; and, um," looking at Hector, "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think I got your name."
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_______________________________________________ "When Boba Fett told Darth Vader, "As you wish," he was really saying, "I love you.""
Hector blinked at the tentacled hand, but lined up for a handshake cheerily enough. "Hector Malka," he introduced himself. "I doubt you've heard of me."
"I'm rather surprised anyone survived at all, to be honest," Hector offered to QB. "I have my talents, but surviving falling out of the sky in a burning wood-and-metal deathtrap into the unforgiving ocean is not one I would have thought numbered among them."
Perhaps I can lay my survival at the feet of my... benefactors. Perhaps they are not through with me yet.
__________________ People seemed to like this better, but only marginally so - the way one might prefer to be stabbed than shot. Optimally, one isn't stabbed or shot. Optimally, one eats some cake! But there are times when cake is not available, and instead we are destroyed. This is the deep poetry of the universe. -- Tycho Brahe
"Heh, guess we have our ways of surviving one way or another. Nice to meet you all, anyway, any of you mooks wanna help me open this thing?" He points behind himself with his thumb, the a mouth full of rubbery teeth opens up on the side of the tentacle and smiles.
"I dunno what's on the other side, but I wanna. S'open it." Him being the subject of his own whims is ever so apparent.
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It must be noted, though, that Mr Bones is under a Disguise Undead to looks like a gruff, albiet silent, guard.
Also, far be it from me to godmode, but I reckon it might be an idea for a little improv, where character introducing themselves have met on the airship at one time or another.
Feel free to improv right back. Irmaet's getting on a little, so feel free to go 'No, you're thinking of X. I was the one with the Y.' if it doesn't fit.
Irmaet the Black And Mr Bones!
Irmaet shakes Kyrek's hand.
"And I am Irmaet the Black, Professor Emeritus of Life Force Manipulation at Morgrave University. Perhaps you've heard of my work? At any rate, I assure you that Mr Bones is perfectly safe, and fully authorised. Pleased to meet you, Kyrek, George."
Having exchanged pleasantries with two of his fellow survivors, he follows Vaasth's lead and heads into the lighthouse. He follows after QB, and shakes Vaasth's hand in turn.
"Ah, Vaasth, was it? I remember - you were the fellow always talking to your arm. You bumped into me a couple of days ago at the pool." he says, remembering all to well the incident, especially in context of his recent submersion into a somewhat larger pool. "I'm Irmaet. I must say, it took Mr Bones a while to fish everything out of the pool."
And while everybody is making introductions, Irmaet also introduces himself to Hector in a parallel conversation that takes place in an indeterminate time before or after his introduction to Vaasth.
"Ah, Hector! I didn't know you were on the airship! So, managed to do anything about the fellows from the far realm?"
It must be noted, though, that Mr Bones is under a Disguise Undead to looks like a gruff, albiet silent, guard.
Aha! Thanks! I thought it might be something like that, but I wasn't sure.
Also, far be it from me to godmode, but I reckon it might be an idea for a little improv, where character introducing themselves have met on the airship at one time or another.
Much as I like the idea, I'd just point out that QB isn't highly social as a rule. And he's returning from a vacation in Sharn, where he was able to thoroughly satisfy his needs for purely social interaction for the foreseeable future. I can't image how he would not have noticed Vaasth, or Kyrek and George, just because they're so visually distinctive (and I did mention having seen Vaasth on the ship); but unless someone else approached HIM, he'd have been perfectly content to spend his time aboard ship standing at the rail and watching the world below sliding past.
Feel free to improv right back. Irmaet's getting on a little, so feel free to go 'No, you're thinking of X. I was the one with the Y.' if it doesn't fit.
QB:
QB surveys the interior of the lighthouse, frowning, while Irmaet and Hector greet each other. "I strongly suspect we'll end up doing just that, Vaasth. First, though, I'd like to make sure we don't miss anything here that might tell us what's going on. Also, I'm still dripping saltwater - I need to dry my gear and take inventory." As he begins checking his pockets, he notices Kyrek studying the bathysphere. "Anything interesting there, Kyrek?"
__________________
_______________________________________________ "When Boba Fett told Darth Vader, "As you wish," he was really saying, "I love you.""
Vaasth turns to Irmaet and smiles, "Heh! Yeah, that was a great Wednesday... Dunno how that guy managed to stay under for like... 20 minutes. Not like I havn't seen it before, though."
He then turns to Kyrek when spoken to by him with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. "Uh. I dunno, but let's try anyway." Vaasth suddenly goes back and starts pulling on the door, his tentacle-whip wrapped tightly around both his arm and the latch.
"Hnng!"
"Gargl."
"Shut up! I can do it!"
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The moment Vaasth lays his hand upon the bathysphere, he pulls it back, with a yelp of pain. His handprint (and tentacle-print) glow red upon the bathysphere's hull, the metal of it having heated of it considerably upon touch.
There is dead silence for a few seconds, and then a voice, seemingly emanating from within the bathysphere, begins to speak. "Plasmometric differential extracted. Analysis completed. Xenovariance within tolerated ranges." The voice is booming and impressive, but the quality of the sound is strange, distorted and echoing oddly. Those of you even slightly familiar recognize it immediately as a magical recording, and one of fairly poor quality. "Calibrating authorizations for given plasmomet...Calibrating authoriza...Calibrating ice cream...ice cream...ice cream..."
While the magical voice seems stuck in a loop of some sort, the door of the bathysphere opens invitingly.
__________________
I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
Hector smiled at Irmaet's effusive greeting. He tapped his finger against the side of his head, indicating his less-human characteristics - the solid black eyes and alien cast to his features. "No, those... beings... still have the run of my head, I'm afraid. A door once opened, and all that. Opening a portal to the Far Realm seemed like such a good idea, at the time... in retrospect, perhaps not so much." he admitted.
He trailed off as the bathysphere activates.
"Well! A little rustic, but serviceable magic. I suppose this is as good an idea as any; staying here will avail us little."
He walks through.
__________________ People seemed to like this better, but only marginally so - the way one might prefer to be stabbed than shot. Optimally, one isn't stabbed or shot. Optimally, one eats some cake! But there are times when cake is not available, and instead we are destroyed. This is the deep poetry of the universe. -- Tycho Brahe
The inside of the bathysphere is functional, if not entirely aesthetically appealing. It is about fifteen feet in diameter, with a low and uncomfortable-looking bench bolted onto its inner walls. The bathysphere is lit by several of what would appear to be continual flame-lit torches, though their light is somewhat flickery. A small console rises from the bathysphere's center. Embedded in it is a glowing Khyber dragonshard about twice the length of a man's hand, with a sloshing blue light within - doubtlessly a bound water elemental. The dragonshard is ringed with a control matrix of smaller crystals, which shine palely, if at all. There are no obvious controls.
__________________
I no longer actively read the forums, and probably won't respond to any PMs. I'm fine with people using my homebrew in anything, including fan-compilations and wikis, as long as you credit me.
QB cautiously follows Hector into the bathysphere. "What was that? Did any of that make any sense to anybody? Something is very, very wrong here, fellows. The airship crashing out of a clear blue sky, this whole place being here where there shouldn't be anything at all but open ocean... I suggest we all be very careful. This is trouble, and we're up to our necks in it."
__________________
_______________________________________________ "When Boba Fett told Darth Vader, "As you wish," he was really saying, "I love you.""
This algae is normal, but this kind of growth indicates it this place has been unoccupied for at least a few years, but so does the rust I suppose.
When the bathysphere opens, Kyrek steps back.
Well, that is interesting.
George gives the opened bathysphere a cautionary sniff.
Somethin'...a'int right. Maybe we should leave boss.
I don't have any teleport spells prepared today George. Besides this...thing seems important. If we do go back home I'd just report my findings to the circle, reccomend they send someone else on my prior assignment, and send us back here.
Furthermore, I have an inlking that this island won't be that easy to leave. Something about the place tells me that the teleport spell might not work properly. Everything is...off.
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Adventure in Eberron: Beyond the Sea
