Zeds knows nothing about this and doesn't even bother trying to understand or decipher it. Sometimes things are just beyond your ken. But when talk comes to the prisoner and of getting them to talk, Zeds slowly draws out one of the two curved daggers he got from the Masked Rider oh so long ago and he begins testing it's sharpness and smiling towards the prisoner.
Mostly Zeds is still feeling ill and drained but if his charade of being very interested in drawing blood works then perhaps it will aid in Thrax getting them to talk?
"A teleportation circle?" The young blonde selûnite says, looking up at the massive red dragonborn with a bright smile, seeming a bit impressed with his quick conclusion. She then turns her attention to the bundled up prisoner. "So, you must certainly know how to make use this magical sircle. Tell us how to use it and where it will take us and you will have a far brighter future than if you tarry and anger mighty Thrax here. If you even stall us he might lose his patience and I would prefer it if we had no maiming and dismemberment, quite yet anyway."
(Intimidadtion: 26 Another roll if help action is provided: 16 + Guidance: 1 )
"Movement. This... this is a movement circle." He growls at last, fumes billowing from his nares. "It can be used to take us. Take us away from this place. Magic. It only needs a word."
Ixsas looks Thrax, startled. He's surprised that the etchings aren't just a magical door but a teleportation circle, but he's astonished that the revelation came from the warrior. He wonders whether the fiery dragonborn has been touched by Kossuth's flame. He reminds himself to learn more about his new companions if they can ever find a moment's peace where they're not in mortal danger from the Cult of the Dragon.
In his homeland of Calimshan, he had heard legends of power-hungry arch mages who opened magical portals to bring genies into this world, attempting to bind them to their will and use their power. But he never dreamed that he'd see such powerful arcane magic, must less use a teleportation circle himself. He looks down nervously, as though he's afraid that the circle will suddenly activate and whisk him away.
Ixsas steals himself, and while he waits for Dralmorrer's answer, he prays to Kossuth to reveal Dralmorrer's heart to him.
Insight: 21 + 4 (Guidance) = 25, trying to determine the veracity of Dralmorrer's response
Thraxinthos grunts sheepishly as the yuan-ti gapes at him in astonishment. The dragonborn is well aware that he does not seem the most learned, seemingly built only for swinging an axe in anger. It isn't an unfair assessment. In truth, he continues to be surprised by the sudden epiphany himself.
"Yes. Teleportation." The blocky, muscle-bound barbarian mutters in confirmation. "The circle will teleport us away. Away from these caverns."
"Answer the saviour, Dralmorrer." Thrax growls, effortlessly tugging the hostage off the ground and rotating him to face Seraphina. He spares a concerned look for Zeds, who seems increasingly out of sorts, but the smile and the sharpening of knives at least seems to indicate he isn't going to keel over any moment too soon.
Dralmorrer effected by Seraphina's word and looks to Thrax's Threat "The command word is Draezir. That is all I will say. There are worse things than death" He takes a deep calming breath as he looks to the magic circle with a far-off look remembering an unpleasant memory.
Ixsas's Insight reveals that though Darlmorrer fears death he fears what his superiors will do to him more than what the party may manage.
Ixsas looks to Zeds and the others and nods. He believes that Dralmorrer has given them the password.
Unless someone wants to try to rest here before they use the Teleportation Circle, he suggests that they go through it at once. He explains, "I guess whatever we find on the other side must be no worse than our situation here...assuming that it doesn't take us directly to a dragon!" But Ixsas seems calm. He does not believe Kossuth would have revealed this magic portal to him if they were not meant to use it to escape the castle.
Since the circle is big enough for a wagon, Ixsas suggests that they go all at the same time in case the portal can only be used once per day or something like that. "And we should take him with us," he says, referring to Dralmorrer. "I don't want to leave him here to raise the alarm and send more cultists after us as soon as we're through!"
Ixsas suggests that they gag Dralmorrer again and cover his head. "And Seraphina should disguise herself as Dralmorrer again. That way, if the other side of the circle is guarded by cultists, we can hopefully bluff our way past them without raising an alarm on that side." Once all of that is done, Ixsas is ready to try using the Teleportation Circle with the whole party gathered near the center of the circle.
Thrax roars at Dralmorrer, less than satisfied by his evasive response. Rows of jagged teeth and the dancing flame at the back of his throat threaten to take the cultist leader's life, but at the last second he snaps his maw shut.
"I do not trust him. Never trust the Cult. Liar, always a liar. Movement circle - it could take us anywhere."The great barbarian says, jamming a cloth in their hostage's mouth and covering his head with the pillow case. "But... I do not trust these caves. Do not trust the cultists above. Search. They will search the tower soon. We must be gone."
The dragonborn nods grudgingly in agreement with Ixsas. He checks Thrixie is still safely situated on his backpack, drags the powerless leader of the castle into the circle, and prepares to leap into the magical unknown.
"Yes," Ixsas responds soothingly to Thrax, "it could take us anywhere. But the cult uses this circle to move their stolen treasure by the wagon-load. Wherever it goes must be safe...or, at least, safe for the cultists." He confident in that conclusion.
Ixsas reiterates the "disguise" plan, gesturing to each of them in turn, starting with Seraphina, "Wherever it takes us, if there are any cultists, they'll just see 'Dralmorrer' and a dragonborn, bringing a prisoner and a dragon wyrmling through the magic portal, with a couple of other cultists as guards."
Ixsas will carry the (trapped) chest that they took from Dralmorrer's bedroom when they use the Teleportation Circle.
"The next tunnel could take us anywhere... Or anything could come find us here," Zeds points out tiredly. "At least the circle likely takes us far enough away that we won't have to face hoards that already hate us."
"Brand new bands of people to piss off... How can you not want that?" With that, Zeds stands with a grunt, replaces the dragon rider mask upon his head, and walks over to the circle.
The young blonde selûnite listens and looks between the others and then finally nods, a bit reluctantly once again taking on the less than flattering appearance of their captive before joining the others within the magical teleportation circle. She fully expected Dralmorrer to try to decieve them, but she also expected the circle to take them to wherever the treasures was transported. Out of the frying pan and all that, they would soon know if they would be able to recuperate at the other end or if they simply stepped into deeper and more immediate trouble.
The circle flared before you like an eye snapping open.
At first there was only the cave: the wet mineral stink, the slow drip of groundwater ticking against stone cave’s gloom. The air tightened. Pressure gathered around your ribs like a band being ratcheted inward.
A heartbeat… stretched ... and snapped
Sound went first. The dripping stopped. Your own breathing cut off mid-draw. Your body turns stiff and unmoving, like a painted thing. Then the world inverted—darkness inside out, light folding in on itself—and the smell of limestone and rot was ripped away in a single cold gasp.
A crack like ice breaking—
—and you were elsewhere.
You hit the new air like stepping naked into winter. A blistering, high-altitude cold clawed at your lungs. Frost kissed your eyelashes. Your body shivers as the warmth were wrenched out of it. Where dripping water had echoed, now there was only the distant hush of wind grinding snow along the eaves of a wooden roof.
The teleportation circle beneath you here was carved, not chalked—deep grooves in polished stone filled with silver that shimmered with the last fading echoes of magic.
Your ears popped. Heat pricked your skin as blood caught up to the fact that your body now existed in a place with almost no warmth of its own. The sudden altitude shift left your head spinning.
You exhaled breath instantly turns to white mist.
Two ancient stones stand to either side of you, and no more than a bowshot ahead along a path is a large house, with stone on the ground floor, timbers above. Within sight are more standing stones.
Pine branches shift and sway in a gusting, fitful wind.
This ancient building has a wood and plaster upper floor over a fieldstone lower floor. Its shuttered windows are all closed. In places, the roof is overgrown with moss. A single door stands slightly open. Smoke pours from one of three large chimneys.
Nearby are 2 stone buildings with no windows and weathered snow dusted roofs
The nearest looks to be some kind of stables and to the second one you are not sure.
"Hide!" Zeds urges everyone in a loud hush. "They could already have eyes upon us, arrows readied..." He says this even as he pushes his poisoned self behind a tree for cover. (Stealth: 9 or 7 +8 for 15) From whatever cover he can get he peeks around and tries to observe the lodge and the other buildings for movement or signs of life other than the smoke from the chimney. (Perception: 13 or Nat 20 +2 for 15)
"Hey... Can we break the circle?" he calls out to the others, still in a hushed tone trying to ensure his voice doesn't carry any further than need be. "Ensure nobody uses it to follow us?"
Ixsas immediately starts shivering. Hailing from Calimshan, Ixsas has no experience with weather this cold and the wind feels like it bites at him. As he re-wraps his headscarf around his face, trying to cover as much of his exposed skin as possible, he says, "May the Firelord protect us and bring us warmth! It feels the devils of Cania have taken over this place!"
Ixsas looks around to see whether there are signs of any other buildings nearby. For example, is there a good road that's suitable for wagons running past the lodge, any buildings visible in the distance other than the few buildings clustered with the lodge, or even smoke from chimneys visible nearby? He's trying to figure out whether the lodge is part of some mountain village or community, a roadhouse along a major road (like Carnath House), or an isolated building in the wilderness (like Naerytar Castle).
As the party discusses what to do, Ixsas points out that since the Dragon Cult has been bringing wagons full of treasure through the teleportation circle, they must have taken control of the lodge in front of them. Otherwise, how would their activities escape notice? He believes that the group still needs to avoid getting into a big fight before they are able to rest, but he's not sure whether the party should head into the wilderness to find a place to camp for the night: "We'd need a big fire to keep warm, and that might draw attention." Alternatively, they could try to bluff their way into this building and see whether they could find sleeping accommodations there.
Ixsas suggests, "Perhaps Dralmorrer could tell us more about the Dragon Cult's presence here. Who is in charge of this outpost? How many cultists are stationed here? And do they regularly patrol the wilderness nearby?"
Dralmorrer looks to the lodge with apprehension "I don't know. I was told never to use the teleportation circle for myself, so I have never been here. I have no authority here"
Thraxinthos shudders as a chilly gust rolls overs his shirtless scaled torso. Wordlessly, he slips after Zeds into the treeline, the great dragonborn falling in step beside him. His yellow eyes scan for trouble, paying particular attention to the stables and the other stone building. As the barbarian weighs Ixsas' thoughts, he grunts in agreement. "We should check the smaller buildings first. Horses. Maybe find horses." He says, his hot breath billowing even more in the frigid air.
When Dralmorrer is questioned, he tugs the gag down around the man's chin and fixes him with a disdainful stare. "Who told you? Who stands above you in the Cult?"
If Dralmorrer offers any information worthy of discussion, he pauses to assess its veracity and consider an alternative plan. Otherwise, he begins moving towards the small stone building, lowering himself to a cautious crouch and peering through any windows he can find.
Perception: 4 Stealth: 19
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(Nice Nat 20)
Zeds knows nothing about this and doesn't even bother trying to understand or decipher it. Sometimes things are just beyond your ken. But when talk comes to the prisoner and of getting them to talk, Zeds slowly draws out one of the two curved daggers he got from the Masked Rider oh so long ago and he begins testing it's sharpness and smiling towards the prisoner.
Mostly Zeds is still feeling ill and drained but if his charade of being very interested in drawing blood works then perhaps it will aid in Thrax getting them to talk?
"A teleportation circle?" The young blonde selûnite says, looking up at the massive red dragonborn with a bright smile, seeming a bit impressed with his quick conclusion. She then turns her attention to the bundled up prisoner. "So, you must certainly know how to make use this magical sircle. Tell us how to use it and where it will take us and you will have a far brighter future than if you tarry and anger mighty Thrax here. If you even stall us he might lose his patience and I would prefer it if we had no maiming and dismemberment, quite yet anyway."
(Intimidadtion: 26 Another roll if help action is provided: 16 + Guidance: 1 )
Ixsas looks Thrax, startled. He's surprised that the etchings aren't just a magical door but a teleportation circle, but he's astonished that the revelation came from the warrior. He wonders whether the fiery dragonborn has been touched by Kossuth's flame. He reminds himself to learn more about his new companions if they can ever find a moment's peace where they're not in mortal danger from the Cult of the Dragon.
In his homeland of Calimshan, he had heard legends of power-hungry arch mages who opened magical portals to bring genies into this world, attempting to bind them to their will and use their power. But he never dreamed that he'd see such powerful arcane magic, must less use a teleportation circle himself. He looks down nervously, as though he's afraid that the circle will suddenly activate and whisk him away.
Ixsas steals himself, and while he waits for Dralmorrer's answer, he prays to Kossuth to reveal Dralmorrer's heart to him.
Insight: 21 + 4 (Guidance) = 25, trying to determine the veracity of Dralmorrer's response
Thraxinthos grunts sheepishly as the yuan-ti gapes at him in astonishment. The dragonborn is well aware that he does not seem the most learned, seemingly built only for swinging an axe in anger. It isn't an unfair assessment. In truth, he continues to be surprised by the sudden epiphany himself.
"Yes. Teleportation." The blocky, muscle-bound barbarian mutters in confirmation. "The circle will teleport us away. Away from these caverns."
"Answer the saviour, Dralmorrer." Thrax growls, effortlessly tugging the hostage off the ground and rotating him to face Seraphina. He spares a concerned look for Zeds, who seems increasingly out of sorts, but the smile and the sharpening of knives at least seems to indicate he isn't going to keel over any moment too soon.
Dralmorrer effected by Seraphina's word and looks to Thrax's Threat "The command word is Draezir. That is all I will say. There are worse things than death" He takes a deep calming breath as he looks to the magic circle with a far-off look remembering an unpleasant memory.
Ixsas's Insight reveals that though Darlmorrer fears death he fears what his superiors will do to him more than what the party may manage.
Ixsas looks to Zeds and the others and nods. He believes that Dralmorrer has given them the password.
Unless someone wants to try to rest here before they use the Teleportation Circle, he suggests that they go through it at once. He explains, "I guess whatever we find on the other side must be no worse than our situation here...assuming that it doesn't take us directly to a dragon!" But Ixsas seems calm. He does not believe Kossuth would have revealed this magic portal to him if they were not meant to use it to escape the castle.
Since the circle is big enough for a wagon, Ixsas suggests that they go all at the same time in case the portal can only be used once per day or something like that. "And we should take him with us," he says, referring to Dralmorrer. "I don't want to leave him here to raise the alarm and send more cultists after us as soon as we're through!"
Ixsas suggests that they gag Dralmorrer again and cover his head. "And Seraphina should disguise herself as Dralmorrer again. That way, if the other side of the circle is guarded by cultists, we can hopefully bluff our way past them without raising an alarm on that side." Once all of that is done, Ixsas is ready to try using the Teleportation Circle with the whole party gathered near the center of the circle.
Thrax roars at Dralmorrer, less than satisfied by his evasive response. Rows of jagged teeth and the dancing flame at the back of his throat threaten to take the cultist leader's life, but at the last second he snaps his maw shut.
"I do not trust him. Never trust the Cult. Liar, always a liar. Movement circle - it could take us anywhere." The great barbarian says, jamming a cloth in their hostage's mouth and covering his head with the pillow case. "But... I do not trust these caves. Do not trust the cultists above. Search. They will search the tower soon. We must be gone."
The dragonborn nods grudgingly in agreement with Ixsas. He checks Thrixie is still safely situated on his backpack, drags the powerless leader of the castle into the circle, and prepares to leap into the magical unknown.
"Yes," Ixsas responds soothingly to Thrax, "it could take us anywhere. But the cult uses this circle to move their stolen treasure by the wagon-load. Wherever it goes must be safe...or, at least, safe for the cultists." He confident in that conclusion.
Ixsas reiterates the "disguise" plan, gesturing to each of them in turn, starting with Seraphina, "Wherever it takes us, if there are any cultists, they'll just see 'Dralmorrer' and a dragonborn, bringing a prisoner and a dragon wyrmling through the magic portal, with a couple of other cultists as guards."
Ixsas will carry the (trapped) chest that they took from Dralmorrer's bedroom when they use the Teleportation Circle.
"The next tunnel could take us anywhere... Or anything could come find us here," Zeds points out tiredly. "At least the circle likely takes us far enough away that we won't have to face hoards that already hate us."
"Brand new bands of people to piss off... How can you not want that?" With that, Zeds stands with a grunt, replaces the dragon rider mask upon his head, and walks over to the circle.
The young blonde selûnite listens and looks between the others and then finally nods, a bit reluctantly once again taking on the less than flattering appearance of their captive before joining the others within the magical teleportation circle. She fully expected Dralmorrer to try to decieve them, but she also expected the circle to take them to wherever the treasures was transported. Out of the frying pan and all that, they would soon know if they would be able to recuperate at the other end or if they simply stepped into deeper and more immediate trouble.
The command word is spoken
The circle flared before you like an eye snapping open.
At first there was only the cave: the wet mineral stink, the slow drip of groundwater ticking against stone cave’s gloom. The air tightened. Pressure gathered around your ribs like a band being ratcheted inward.
A heartbeat… stretched ... and snapped
Sound went first. The dripping stopped. Your own breathing cut off mid-draw. Your body turns stiff and unmoving, like a painted thing. Then the world inverted—darkness inside out, light folding in on itself—and the smell of limestone and rot was ripped away in a single cold gasp.
A crack like ice breaking—
—and you were elsewhere.
You hit the new air like stepping naked into winter. A blistering, high-altitude cold clawed at your lungs. Frost kissed your eyelashes. Your body shivers as the warmth were wrenched out of it. Where dripping water had echoed, now there was only the distant hush of wind grinding snow along the eaves of a wooden roof.
The teleportation circle beneath you here was carved, not chalked—deep grooves in polished stone filled with silver that shimmered with the last fading echoes of magic.
Your ears popped. Heat pricked your skin as blood caught up to the fact that your body now existed in a place with almost no warmth of its own. The sudden altitude shift left your head spinning.
You exhaled breath instantly turns to white mist.
Two ancient stones stand to either side of you, and no more than a bowshot ahead along a path is a large house, with stone on the ground floor, timbers above. Within sight are more standing stones.
Pine branches shift and sway in a gusting, fitful wind.
Outside the Lodge
This ancient building has a wood and plaster upper floor over a fieldstone lower floor. Its shuttered windows are all closed. In places, the roof is overgrown with moss. A single door stands slightly open. Smoke pours from one of three large chimneys.
Nearby are 2 stone buildings with no windows and weathered snow dusted roofs
The nearest looks to be some kind of stables and to the second one you are not sure.
At the moment you see no guards or cultists just the front door slightly open.
"Hide!" Zeds urges everyone in a loud hush. "They could already have eyes upon us, arrows readied..." He says this even as he pushes his poisoned self behind a tree for cover. (Stealth: 9 or 7 +8 for 15) From whatever cover he can get he peeks around and tries to observe the lodge and the other buildings for movement or signs of life other than the smoke from the chimney. (Perception: 13 or Nat 20 +2 for 15)
"Hey... Can we break the circle?" he calls out to the others, still in a hushed tone trying to ensure his voice doesn't carry any further than need be. "Ensure nobody uses it to follow us?"
Ixsas immediately starts shivering. Hailing from Calimshan, Ixsas has no experience with weather this cold and the wind feels like it bites at him. As he re-wraps his headscarf around his face, trying to cover as much of his exposed skin as possible, he says, "May the Firelord protect us and bring us warmth! It feels the devils of Cania have taken over this place!"
Ixsas looks around to see whether there are signs of any other buildings nearby. For example, is there a good road that's suitable for wagons running past the lodge, any buildings visible in the distance other than the few buildings clustered with the lodge, or even smoke from chimneys visible nearby? He's trying to figure out whether the lodge is part of some mountain village or community, a roadhouse along a major road (like Carnath House), or an isolated building in the wilderness (like Naerytar Castle).
As the party discusses what to do, Ixsas points out that since the Dragon Cult has been bringing wagons full of treasure through the teleportation circle, they must have taken control of the lodge in front of them. Otherwise, how would their activities escape notice? He believes that the group still needs to avoid getting into a big fight before they are able to rest, but he's not sure whether the party should head into the wilderness to find a place to camp for the night: "We'd need a big fire to keep warm, and that might draw attention." Alternatively, they could try to bluff their way into this building and see whether they could find sleeping accommodations there.
Ixsas suggests, "Perhaps Dralmorrer could tell us more about the Dragon Cult's presence here. Who is in charge of this outpost? How many cultists are stationed here? And do they regularly patrol the wilderness nearby?"
After looking around it is an isolated building with no main road in sight. The lodge is surrounded by pine trees and the like.
No enemy or danger presents itself as Zeds hides behind a tree.
Dralmorrer looks to the lodge with apprehension "I don't know. I was told never to use the teleportation circle for myself, so I have never been here. I have no authority here"
Thraxinthos shudders as a chilly gust rolls overs his shirtless scaled torso. Wordlessly, he slips after Zeds into the treeline, the great dragonborn falling in step beside him. His yellow eyes scan for trouble, paying particular attention to the stables and the other stone building. As the barbarian weighs Ixsas' thoughts, he grunts in agreement. "We should check the smaller buildings first. Horses. Maybe find horses." He says, his hot breath billowing even more in the frigid air.
When Dralmorrer is questioned, he tugs the gag down around the man's chin and fixes him with a disdainful stare. "Who told you? Who stands above you in the Cult?"
If Dralmorrer offers any information worthy of discussion, he pauses to assess its veracity and consider an alternative plan. Otherwise, he begins moving towards the small stone building, lowering himself to a cautious crouch and peering through any windows he can find.
Perception: 4
Stealth: 19