Heavy is the Head - Campaign thread

Hemlock nods to Ali, then listens to Fitzwhistle.

"I have to admit, I am inclined to agree with Ali. This whole process makes me nervous. It does go against the natural order of things. But then I believe in free will, and this a choice you have made", he says, obviously conflicted. "Are you sure you would not rather wait for us to investigate this place where we might be able to access your multitool? Track down who did this to you and make them reverse it?".

"At least tell us how we would theoretically use the receiver to access it, in case anything...goes wrong".

Fitzwhistle thanks Sha enthusiastically, then his eyes widen at Hemlock's suggestion, contrasting emotions vying for dominance before he takes a deep breath and speaks from a place of forced control. "Of course, of course. If you're not comfortable being part of this, I won't make you. I can't won't can't remember anything specific about putting that function into the multitool, but If I were I haven't I can't remember doing it but if I WERE TO DO IT, I would make the interface nice and simple. Just a special stand to place the multitool on, and it would activate the map. And if I have to wait for a while longer, I can do that. Just... just..." his eyes well with tears barely held back... "I really don't want to spend any more time alone up here. Go back to your workshop and lock the doors. Don't talk to anyone outside. Stay there till you rot."

Ali looks quite uncomfortable. "Do what seems right to you. I will await you outside the tower."

When Lam checks through the window, he can see where they tied up Eliza and hid her in foliage. He can't quite see any physical part of Eliza poking through the hiding spot - she must have shifted a little - but it seems like she's probably still there.

Saoirse is horrified by all this, but at the same time she can't just say no and condemn Fitzwhistle to the life of mystery he's currently living. She shifts her weight from one foot to another, unsure. Are they really going to kill him? And what if this doesn't work...? 

- Give me a moment... - she answers Sha, and moves a little away. Then extracts the sending stone to contact Tesfaye again and relay what she can with the few words that the magic stone allows. When she's sure about what to say, she whispers to the stone - "Process is: Kill Fitzwhistle, trace symbol in automaton with his blood, blood curse the symbol, heal construct when the spirit leaves the body. Any thoughts?"

Saoirse can feel Tesfaye's frustration at being limited in how many words they can say. They clearly think that what you're trying is some of the most interesting arcane and artifice research they've ever heard of. If they were here, they would certainly have hundreds of questions and comments and ideas and be personally and joyfully inspecting all of Fitzwhistle's constructs and tools. Tesfaye isn't here though, and this is what they manage to boil their message down to. "Fascinating, risky! Many questions later. Is construct brain sufficient - how transfer memories? Advise healing magic construct pre-transfer and during. Never success in history, multiple attempts."

Lam studies the window, trying to confirm that he really cannot see Eliza, while Fitzwhistle describes the process which goes mostly above Lam’s head. When Ali makes to leave, Lam turns to stop him and says: “If you go out… can you check Eliza? I cannot see her.”

The fire genasi sighs, wishing - and not for the first time - that their tortle friend were here. But they weren't, and all she could do was relay the sort response to the rest. So she comes back to the group and says:

- Tesfaye, who is our artificer friend currently staying in Village Tree, - Saoirse explains to Fitzwhistle - seems to be fascinated by this process. And of course says it's risky. It has been atempted multiple times, apparently, but never successfully. They advice healing the magic construct before and during the soul transfer. And, among other things that they couldn't ask in such a sort message, they wonder if the construct's brain will be sufficient. 

”I’ve only the resources to provide one healing more time would be required to have two prepared.”

"I have some healing magic, possibly not as effective as yours Sha, but I will help if Fitzwhistle decides to undertake the procedure", Hemlock replies.

“Okay okay, are you sure Fitzwhistle my friend?  I will not abandon you.”

Ali nods at Lam on the way out. He will check on Eliza, who Lam still can't quite see for certain.

 "Ooh! Investing the construct with life magic before as well is a great idea. Should help bring my soul over to the bindings. And the constructs brain should be sufficient, I think! The web of connections between transistors, plus the ability to develop new pathways over time... the processing power is theoretically limitless, and fundamentally unpredictable, in much the same way as organic brains. I'm pretty sure about this. I've been working on it for a long time, and nothing else. Thank you all so much." He looks especially at Sha-Gravis as he says thank you, full of gratitude. I'm ready when you are. Ready to be free. But, if this doesn't work, promise me you'll leave my body here. I have to stay here... till I rot."

- If this doesn't work, and I really hope it does, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to! You will owe nothing to the one that did this to you. We could take you someplace else so you can finally have the rest you deserve. Is it here where you really would like to spend your final rest, Fitzwhistle? And, though I'm not sure this will bring you any comfort, be sure that we will put an end to whoever caused you so much pain.

She pauses, and then adds:

- In any case, I'm ready, too. And I can ... do the first step of the process, if you want. It is only fitting that the blood hunter does all the bloody parts. 

"If your decision is made, I am ready", Hemlock adds.

He turns to Sha-Gravis, "I will provide the healing magic prior to the transfer, we can then perhaps both use our magic during the transfer itself".

If the others are all in agreement that this is happening now, his form starts to shimmer and glow as he takes his starry form, the constellation of the life giving Chalice appearing across his body.

"Fortune favour you", he says to Fitzwhistle and grants him focus.

Special: Starry Form - Chalice - When you cast a spell that restores hit points, you or a creature within 30 ft. regains 1d8+4 hit points.
Special: Concentration Guidance on Fitzwhistle

Hemlock feels the energy of the cosmos move through him. The energy of life itself pours out through his skin, a light that he can see. He is a cup that runs over with the wellspring of healing magic, and he can feel that, as he shines and his hair begins to stand on end. The energy also infuses his mind with a sense of assured calm. The others can see him.shimmer and glow, the seven stars of the chalice clearly shining from his chest.

Fitzwhistle is excited and grateful, but now you can also begin to see some of his nervousness peek through. He meticulously lays out some sheets "to make the clean-up easier, after," puts on the strange helmet and fiddles with the humanoid constructs head for a while, then lays on the sheets and opens up his robe and shirt to expose the bare skin if his chest. He is very pale, and sickly thin in a way that you couldn't quite see while he was fully clothed. Each rib bone is visible. "OK, I'm ready." When.Saoirse approaches, he stops her though. "Wait, some last words, just in case. How about, 'The end of one life, and the start of a new.'" He pauses and allows Saoirse to approach again, but when her blade gets close he flinches away and interrupts "No wait, that's not good enough. To push the boundaries of knowledge, and the borders of Life itself! Yeah, let's go with that." This cycle repeats a few times, as he stalls the pain that he knows is necessary for his plan. "Wait, that was too grandiose... um, let's just go with the classic: For Brilliance!" And again. "Wait no, not original enough... um, OK this: the last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death. Yeah, that's the one." He runs out of reasons to interrupt, but he eyes Saoirse's blade with a wide, frightful gaze.

Saoirse is far from being annoyed by Fitzwhistle's interruptions. She doesn't want to do this. She doesn't want to kill an innocent man. She would do anything to find another solution, but they have none. If a smart mind like the gnome's hasn't come up with something else, after so many years of secluded study, then... what else is there to do? The fire genasi looks in his eyes and sees fear, yes, but also conviction. And yearning. For freedom. For being himself again, though not in his own body. How could she not give him what he desires...?

When he finishes choosing his last words, the blood hunter kneels in front on him and places the left hand on the gnome's shoulder. This will help her pierce his chest easier, but she hopes it also transmits some kind of comfort to the gnome. Something that tells him that she's going to do this to the best of her ability. That she will be as quick and precise as possible.

She then places the tip of the dagger on Fitzwhistle's chest and glances at Hemlock, expecting a nod from the druid that will indicate that he's ready and she can proceed. When he does, she turns her eyes to the gnome again and says:

- For freedom. 

Quick and precise, Swordbreaker pierced Fitzwhistle Cobblepot's heart.The sheets began to turn red.

Saoirse soaks his fingers in the blood pouring from Fitzwhistle's chest, waits for Hemlock's magic and inscribes the rune as instructed. Then, placing a hand on the automaton, she mutters:

- Go n-éirí go deo leat le do shoitheach nua.

The cracks on her skin begin to glow as the curse of binding takes hold of the construct.

Hemlock reaches out to the construct with his healing magic, invigorated and enhanced as it is with the power of the Chalice constellation. He then looks to Saoirse with tear glistening with starlight falling from his right eye, and gives the nod.

Bonus Action: Healing Word on construct, with additional healing to construct from Chalice form: 3+4+7+4=18
Special: Starry Form - Chalice - When you cast a spell that restores hit points, you or a creature within 30 ft. regains 1d8+4 hit points.

Sha-gravis watches the light of Fitzwhistle pass from his eyes and in only one single eternal moment the tabaxi heretic devoted to a blessed Goddess of duality the full and dark moon, having channeled the power to once more cast Cure Wounds upon the new vessel of Fitzwhistle Sha's friend... 9.  "May you find your way brave scholar."

As Hemlock pours magic in, the construct begins to glow. A bright, silver-white light shines out of the construct's gemstone eyes, and the same light, though slightly dimmer, shines out of each joint and seam in its construction. It is ready.

Fitzwhistle can't help but whimper as the blade slides between his ribs, but he does not flinch, and his eyes remain squarely fixed on Saoirse's, certain of his choice. When she touches his blood to the sigil outlined inside the constructs neck, the blood seeps into the pattern almost of its own volition. A slight pain in Saoirse as she binds the blood in place, and the silver-white light from the construct tinges with red, becoming a rosy pink.

Saoirse is not the sort of psychopath who enjoys death, so she has never looked into the eyes of a person as they died before. It is horribly striking, the moment of death. There is a light in Fitzwhistle's eyes one moment, and he is a person with an inner life and emotions and a mind, and then a moment later, Saoirse's hand rests on the shoulder of a corpse, a thing. It no longer looks like a person - the person is gone. There is no doubt about what moment she needs to signal Sha-Gravis to cast the spell.

With Sha's casting, the light shifts again, to an indigo blue the exact colour of Fitzwhistle's lifeless eyes. It brightens, and brightens, bathing the whole room in deep blue. Suddenly, Sha's vestments flash bright light and the room flickers from light to dark for a couple of seconds. In those seconds, a vision appears to Sha-Gravis:

 Then the light fades until the only light is natural twilight through the windows, and the construct's eyes that glow. Indigo blue. The construct looks like a person, alive, even though its face isn't perfectly expressive and it's eyes have no pupils. It sits up, and it speaks. "Am. I. Still. Me.? Give. Me. Time. To. Think." It is Fitzwhistle's voice, but each word is it's own recording, with no emotion in them. You can imagine Fitzwhistle sitting with a dictionary and a magical recorder, painstaking recording every individual word of common. The effect is slightly unnatural, though quite clear.

Sha, Saoirse, and Hemlock get inspiration.

Sha-gravis openly weeps overcome with emotion, he does not try to hide it nor is he ashamed in anyway.  (I imagine he makes inner commitments and remembers the decisions which brought him to this point.)  After a while he looks at Fitzwhistle in his new form and he hugs him.  Then he picks up his harpy egg, holds it close, and gently hums a bit; feeling at his best simply here in the twilight.

Hemlock stands in his starry form watching as Saoirse ends Fitzwhistle's life, and then uses his blood to invest the departing life force into the construct that he and Sha between them had suffused with healing magic.

When the construct animates, he releases a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. He really doesn't know how to feel about what just happened. Had nature been subverted somehow, or was this just another form of life, or just some kind of metamorphosis?

"Take your time, Fitzwhistle. There is no rush", he replies, giving himself more time to think and come to his own conclusion.

He looks to Saoirse, "Are you ok?".

The construct does not return the hug - it seems mostly confused by it. "My. name. is. Fitzwhistle Cobblepot.           I. am. aware. of. my. thoughts. therefore. I. am. alive.          Sensory. performance. is. suboptimal.              I. feel. the. embrace.                    But. I. remember. emotions. and. warmth. with. embraces.                 This. body. does. not. have. that reaction. yet. but. I. can. fix. that.         I. am. processing. memories. but. it. will take. a. long. time. to. know. whether. I remember. everything.                 I. can. not. remember. you. yet. although. I deduce. that. you. helped. make. this. body. possible.            Thank. you.        Wait." The construct which has called itself Fitzwhistle (are you comfortable calling it that?) stands and walks to the door of the room. It grabs the handle and pauses for a moment, then turns the handle and throws open the door. "I. am. free!" The last word is increased in volume, though the inflection does not change.