He stands a short distance apart from the rest of the Fellowship, arms folded, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade. The wind tousles his dark hair as he gazes, not at the monk, but at the path winding up toward the storm-wreathed summit.
“You speak with such conviction, Otbium. Such confidence in what you offer. Power, safety, answers. All of it sounds very, tempting.”
He turns his head, slowly, to regard the monk with clear eyes, unreadable, unblinking.
“But here is what troubles me. You speak of cycles like they are equations. Of people as though we are variables in your formula. You say this world is an experiment."
His gaze lingers on Otbium.
“But tell me this, Dealmaker: Have you ever climbed the mountain?”
He steps forward now, slow and deliberate, boots pressing into the earth between them.
“You call this a cycle. I call it becoming. And no one becomes more by walking backward.”
Now he looks to his companions, his voice resonating—not loud, but fierce, grounded.
“You cannot make us gods. That is not a gift you can give. Power that costs nothing teaches nothing.”
He turns back to Otbium, quiet once more.
“I do not scorn your offer. I believe you are sincere. But I say this with no hatred, merely clarity. We do not climb the mountain because we are certain we will survive it. We climb it because what waits at the top is real. Earned, not bestowed”
Otbium listens to the noise of several voices piling on top of each other, one after the next, and lowers his gaze to this hands, which have since dropped to his lap. Randa's arrow pointed at him fails to even get his attention.
Jack would have noticed that the person who sits at their table is in fact, a projected image, and a rather convincing one at that.
Randa and Joy. The name Otbium tickles your memory. Something about that name is familiar. A distant, minor Betrayer God, notable for trying to take on the Domain of Death when it became available, only to lose the portfolio to a mortal who would inevitably be known as the Matron of Death or the Raven Queen. As a god without a Domain, he was easily imprisoned (either in a mountain or at the bottom of the ocean depending on the text) before the Calamity and was dismissed as too inconsequential to receive any post-Calamity writings, causing him to fade into obscurity.
"The Divine Gate. It prevents my kin from entering the material plane. The Prime Deities created it and it was a mistake. Even they are imprisoned by their own creation. This... experiment harvests enough power to shatter the Gate. It would allow me to feel actual grass under my feet, to smell this feast before me, and yes, even to taste it. These are personal desires, true, but are my needs not relevant simply because you oppose me? I could not make you gods, I admit, but I could make it so that you could not tell the difference. Pocket domains are easily created. This very world exists in one made on a large scale and dropped in the Wildspace.
"Life is crucial and my aim is not to end all life. Any life ended can be replaced. Mortals are easy to create and the Prime Deities, vain as they are, would not allow this world to exist without mortals to fawn over them, licking their feet. They would not, however, have the power to recreate the Divine Gate. They had to take too much of themselves to create it already. You would be able to visit the Dawnfather, in literal terms if you just leave me to my mission.
"You accuse me of not caring about people. You would be right to suspect this. I have seen countless worlds rise and fall. I have existed so long, I no longer remember my own origin. Worlds last millions of years and I have observed so many. Even the longest lived mortal only exists for the blink of an eye to a god before they are placed on some divine glass beach, a nameless crystal orb indistinguishable from the soul next to it and singing praises to their god for eternity when that god had done literally nothing at all... Souls made to exist as mere background noise in a god's private realm. No, you are wrong. I care about mortals. Probably more than any god. I believe that you should be able to exist free, without being forced to be servile to some entity that never even acknowledges you. You give them your entire life and all they give you in return is to become their property. You get to avoid damnation wandering Exandria as a Lost Soul, or to be scooped up by some archdevil to be stamped into a soulcoin, but the gods you worship can and would do the same thing if they needed the power, because you have given yourselves up to be their playthings. The gods should earn your worship and the Divine Gate conveniently prevents them from having to do that. They demand worship to empower themselves, and give you nothing because they have intentionally designed a firmament that makes it so they cannot. Does this seem right to you?"
Otbium watches the group with keen eyes, searching the souls behind those eyes.
"You claim to care about us more than any other god, while in the same breath announcing how replaceable we are. Nameless, faceless souls to be used in your games against your kin. We will have no part in your squabbles."
Vazo'yn turns his attention from Otbium and follows Riven up the slope. As he does, the grand feast collapses into a pool of pale grey mist.
Still reeling from the implications of what the god had shared, the dark-haired man watches as the others start to move. At least the food had been good he thought, shrugging and starting to follow the others. "See you soon I expect Otie." He says as he passes the old man, giving the image a flick on the nose with his finger to make it disappear. It was a bit tragic how good it felt to do that to this mad god, if only they could do something similar when they met him in person. "So we're about to fight a god then, should make for a good tale at least." He says with a wry smile.
As they ascend the mountain, Jack would as before have the witch eye scouting ahead to warn the fellowship of what awaited them next.
Randa and Joy. The name Otbium tickles your memory. Something about that name is familiar. A distant, minor Betrayer God, notable for trying to take on the Domain of Death when it became available, only to lose the portfolio to a mortal who would inevitably be known as the Matron of Death or the Raven Queen. As a god without a Domain, he was easily imprisoned (either in a mountain or at the bottom of the ocean depending on the text) before the Calamity and was dismissed as too inconsequential to receive any post-Calamity writings, causing him to fade into obscurity.
Joy nods and follows the others, informing them of the information she recalled (above) about Otbium along the way. "A god with no domain...I suppose that explains why he seems so...empty."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep| Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia| Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren| Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron| Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault| Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
"Hey Ylis, do you have any more of those potions I like? the ones that make my punches go BOOM!?" he asks, wiping the stew from his chin, following the others up.
"Oh sure! unless there is something else the party might want instead. Hey guys? My magic pot ( Tasha's Bubbling Cauldron )can create a variety of things but only the same kind of thing so...like 4 potions but they all gotta be the same kind."
So like punchy potions, slippery potions, healing potions, breathing potions..uh...strength potion, grow potion...you know?"
Ylis shrugs, whichever of the things folks want is the thing she'll stir up.
As Ylis offers up her options, the purple wave finally releases and sweeps over the Fellowship. Close as they are, it no sooner bursts from the summit than it washes over the party. As always, it is without a physical force, but the effects are compounded. Everyone once again advances in age, approaching the final years of their life. All except for Joy, though she does experience her own visible change in weapons and armor. Spacetime fractures, creating a kaleidoscope of rainbow-like colors and warped air around her, looking very much like floating broken glass from a house of mirrors. Her devotion to Lethander protects her from the aging effects, however, the ethereal force has finally found an outlet; spacetime immediately around her person splinters into floating shards. In any other situation, this might be a spectacular effect worth intense study, but here, it only serves to show the damaging effects that Otbium is causing to the world. It remains around her person, long after the withering wave passes out of sight.
DM: Advance to level 20, enjoying the benefits of a long rest. Adjust gear to reflect the following: 2 Common, 4 Uncommon, 3 Rare, 1 Very Rare, plus any non-magical gear you wish that you can reasonably carry. You may swap out 1 magical item you own for another. Mind the Encumbrance, we are using that rule here.
After advancing to silly levels of power, make a Constitution Saving Throw, DC 17. On failure take 2 Psychic Damage.
((Joy's aura is now a 30 ft emanation, so everyone gets +6 to their saves and is resistant to psychic, necrotic, and radiant damage, plus immunity to being frightened.))
Joy staggers slightly as the wave passes, but not from pain—rather, from the sheer weight of the moment as she watches her friends buckle beneath time’s cruel hand once more. Her armor shimmers as it subtly shifts, catching fragments of light off the warped air and mirror-glass fragments suspended in space around her. It would be beautiful if not for what it meant.
She turns, eyes wide with worry as she sees the others aged once more. I don't want to be the only one left...The thought burns brightly, but she shakes her head; fear will do no good here.
"Are you all alright, besides the obvious? It seems now is the time for any last preparations."
She sets about applying her Oil of Slipperiness, which takes 10 minutes. She then uses two charges of her hag eye to cast darkvision and see invisibility on herself. It's a good thing the item still works after the coven who made it has been decimated.
Riven does not speak immediately.
He stands a short distance apart from the rest of the Fellowship, arms folded, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his blade. The wind tousles his dark hair as he gazes, not at the monk, but at the path winding up toward the storm-wreathed summit.
“You speak with such conviction, Otbium. Such confidence in what you offer. Power, safety, answers. All of it sounds very, tempting.”
He turns his head, slowly, to regard the monk with clear eyes, unreadable, unblinking.
“But here is what troubles me. You speak of cycles like they are equations. Of people as though we are variables in your formula. You say this world is an experiment."
His gaze lingers on Otbium.
“But tell me this, Dealmaker: Have you ever climbed the mountain?”
He steps forward now, slow and deliberate, boots pressing into the earth between them.
“You call this a cycle. I call it becoming. And no one becomes more by walking backward.”
Now he looks to his companions, his voice resonating—not loud, but fierce, grounded.
“You cannot make us gods. That is not a gift you can give. Power that costs nothing teaches nothing.”
He turns back to Otbium, quiet once more.
“I do not scorn your offer. I believe you are sincere. But I say this with no hatred, merely clarity. We do not climb the mountain because we are certain we will survive it. We climb it because what waits at the top is real. Earned, not bestowed”
Otbium listens to the noise of several voices piling on top of each other, one after the next, and lowers his gaze to this hands, which have since dropped to his lap. Randa's arrow pointed at him fails to even get his attention.
Jack would have noticed that the person who sits at their table is in fact, a projected image, and a rather convincing one at that.
Randa and Joy. The name Otbium tickles your memory. Something about that name is familiar. A distant, minor Betrayer God, notable for trying to take on the Domain of Death when it became available, only to lose the portfolio to a mortal who would inevitably be known as the Matron of Death or the Raven Queen. As a god without a Domain, he was easily imprisoned (either in a mountain or at the bottom of the ocean depending on the text) before the Calamity and was dismissed as too inconsequential to receive any post-Calamity writings, causing him to fade into obscurity.
"The Divine Gate. It prevents my kin from entering the material plane. The Prime Deities created it and it was a mistake. Even they are imprisoned by their own creation. This... experiment harvests enough power to shatter the Gate. It would allow me to feel actual grass under my feet, to smell this feast before me, and yes, even to taste it. These are personal desires, true, but are my needs not relevant simply because you oppose me? I could not make you gods, I admit, but I could make it so that you could not tell the difference. Pocket domains are easily created. This very world exists in one made on a large scale and dropped in the Wildspace.
"Life is crucial and my aim is not to end all life. Any life ended can be replaced. Mortals are easy to create and the Prime Deities, vain as they are, would not allow this world to exist without mortals to fawn over them, licking their feet. They would not, however, have the power to recreate the Divine Gate. They had to take too much of themselves to create it already. You would be able to visit the Dawnfather, in literal terms if you just leave me to my mission.
"You accuse me of not caring about people. You would be right to suspect this. I have seen countless worlds rise and fall. I have existed so long, I no longer remember my own origin. Worlds last millions of years and I have observed so many. Even the longest lived mortal only exists for the blink of an eye to a god before they are placed on some divine glass beach, a nameless crystal orb indistinguishable from the soul next to it and singing praises to their god for eternity when that god had done literally nothing at all... Souls made to exist as mere background noise in a god's private realm. No, you are wrong. I care about mortals. Probably more than any god. I believe that you should be able to exist free, without being forced to be servile to some entity that never even acknowledges you. You give them your entire life and all they give you in return is to become their property. You get to avoid damnation wandering Exandria as a Lost Soul, or to be scooped up by some archdevil to be stamped into a soulcoin, but the gods you worship can and would do the same thing if they needed the power, because you have given yourselves up to be their playthings. The gods should earn your worship and the Divine Gate conveniently prevents them from having to do that. They demand worship to empower themselves, and give you nothing because they have intentionally designed a firmament that makes it so they cannot. Does this seem right to you?"
Otbium watches the group with keen eyes, searching the souls behind those eyes.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
Check out my life-changing
"The Divine Gate may trap gods. But it offers protection too. If crossing it means giving our lives, then so be it."
He turns, not in dismissal, but in choice.
"You remember countless worlds, Otbium. Then remember this one, as I am saying no."
Riven gestures past the projection, toward the mountain.
“I will climb. You can feast alone.”
Randa looked to Jack and Riven, ''' Onwards?"
She narrowed her eyes at the ' God'' trying to discern more.....
"Grrrrr...onward"
Ylis sticks her tongue out at the image and follows the others. Trying to keep watch and pretend to not care at the same time.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
"You claim to care about us more than any other god, while in the same breath announcing how replaceable we are. Nameless, faceless souls to be used in your games against your kin. We will have no part in your squabbles."
Vazo'yn turns his attention from Otbium and follows Riven up the slope. As he does, the grand feast collapses into a pool of pale grey mist.
Still reeling from the implications of what the god had shared, the dark-haired man watches as the others start to move. At least the food had been good he thought, shrugging and starting to follow the others. "See you soon I expect Otie." He says as he passes the old man, giving the image a flick on the nose with his finger to make it disappear. It was a bit tragic how good it felt to do that to this mad god, if only they could do something similar when they met him in person. "So we're about to fight a god then, should make for a good tale at least." He says with a wry smile.
As they ascend the mountain, Jack would as before have the witch eye scouting ahead to warn the fellowship of what awaited them next.
Joy nods and follows the others, informing them of the information she recalled (above) about Otbium along the way. "A god with no domain...I suppose that explains why he seems so...empty."
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
"Hey Ylis, do you have any more of those potions I like? the ones that make my punches go BOOM!?" he asks, wiping the stew from his chin, following the others up.
"Oh sure! unless there is something else the party might want instead. Hey guys? My magic pot ( Tasha's Bubbling Cauldron )can create a variety of things but only the same kind of thing so...like 4 potions but they all gotta be the same kind."
So like punchy potions, slippery potions, healing potions, breathing potions..uh...strength potion, grow potion...you know?"
Ylis shrugs, whichever of the things folks want is the thing she'll stir up.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
As Ylis offers up her options, the purple wave finally releases and sweeps over the Fellowship. Close as they are, it no sooner bursts from the summit than it washes over the party. As always, it is without a physical force, but the effects are compounded. Everyone once again advances in age, approaching the final years of their life. All except for Joy, though she does experience her own visible change in weapons and armor. Spacetime fractures, creating a kaleidoscope of rainbow-like colors and warped air around her, looking very much like floating broken glass from a house of mirrors. Her devotion to Lethander protects her from the aging effects, however, the ethereal force has finally found an outlet; spacetime immediately around her person splinters into floating shards. In any other situation, this might be a spectacular effect worth intense study, but here, it only serves to show the damaging effects that Otbium is causing to the world. It remains around her person, long after the withering wave passes out of sight.
DM: Advance to level 20, enjoying the benefits of a long rest. Adjust gear to reflect the following: 2 Common, 4 Uncommon, 3 Rare, 1 Very Rare, plus any non-magical gear you wish that you can reasonably carry. You may swap out 1 magical item you own for another. Mind the Encumbrance, we are using that rule here.
After advancing to silly levels of power, make a Constitution Saving Throw, DC 17. On failure take 2 Psychic Damage.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
Check out my life-changing
20! ... can we multiclass? cant remember if that was ever stated!
Plus we get 10 years of potions! :)
You may multiclass if you wish.
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
Check out my life-changing
((Joy's aura is now a 30 ft emanation, so everyone gets +6 to their saves and is resistant to psychic, necrotic, and radiant damage, plus immunity to being frightened.))
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
CON save 34
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Joy CON Save: 15 w advantage from Spellguard Shield
Joy staggers slightly as the wave passes, but not from pain—rather, from the sheer weight of the moment as she watches her friends buckle beneath time’s cruel hand once more. Her armor shimmers as it subtly shifts, catching fragments of light off the warped air and mirror-glass fragments suspended in space around her. It would be beautiful if not for what it meant.
She turns, eyes wide with worry as she sees the others aged once more. I don't want to be the only one left...The thought burns brightly, but she shakes her head; fear will do no good here.
"Are you all alright, besides the obvious? It seems now is the time for any last preparations."
She sets about applying her Oil of Slipperiness, which takes 10 minutes. She then uses two charges of her hag eye to cast darkvision and see invisibility on herself. It's a good thing the item still works after the coven who made it has been decimated.
| Kaelen - Shadar-kai Gloom Stalker Ranger - Old Keep | Lira - Half-elf Thief Rogue/Druid - Allansia | Teryn - High Elf Archfey Warlock - Runewarren | Zoveldra - Kalashtar Open Hand Monk - Eberron | Mavilius - Tiefling Eloquence Bard - Golden Vault | Vannithos - Shadar-kai Astral Self Monk - Von Nichts | Cassian - Human Paladin - Dragonlance |
Should we take into account all Joy's Aura's for this check? :)
OOC: I would think so. There would be no reason for the party to be more than 30 feet from her.
"Sooner or later, your Players are going to smash your railroad into a sandbox."
-Vedexent
"real life is a super high CR."
-OboeLauren
"............anybody got any potatoes? We could drop a potato in each hole an' see which ones get viciously mauled by horrible monsters?"
-Ilyara Thundertale
Yep! :)
DM mostly, Player occasionally | Session 0 form | He/Him/They/Them
EXTENDED SIGNATURE!
Doctor/Published Scholar/Science and Healthcare Advocate/Critter/Trekkie/Gandalf with a Glock
Try DDB free: Free Rules (2024), premade PCs, adventures, one shots, encounters, SC, homebrew, more
Answers: physical books, purchases, and subbing.
Check out my life-changing
Cool, but still only a 16 Con for Giles. But Joy also gives resistance to Psychic damage!