Pizazz's Myth Drannor

The "mud" inside the hut was by far not that bad. It was not the first time the group had to take a rest in one of the lesser Toc and Nuzej creations, and the thick fur blanket from the giant's camp worked well as a cover for the ground. Magic kept them clean later as well. All and all the physical conditions in the small hut were comfortable and clean enough.

Mental, though, still needed some clarifications. At first, Mirica blamed the obvious cultural differences for the suddenly raised furs and flashes of anger. That and... it seemed Simaal found kin spirits in those lions. But Thyrius's questions showed she was the one mudding the waters if accidentally.

Mirica laughter and shook her head. "I know nothing about creatures that harmed you - though sincerely hope they are dead by now. And would not imply that you were scared by anything. I was talking to the dryad over there. The one that introduced herself a moment ago and that Xemnez asked for the pear before. If I am not mistaken, he can see Hathowyn now. The grove belongs to her and the earlier sudden appearance of undead scared dryad away. We dispatched of that undead and my phrase was mere information for the hostess."

With that of the way she clapped once, pointed on the food in case the lions missed the invitation, and tried to sum up everything that has been said so far. "So, you had someone named Ajani - a wizard - sending two of you to fight a threat to the multiverse." She managed to restrain from the comment about how much said Ajani should have liked the unfortunate brothers. Mostly because the group did not even have that luxury - they volunteered without an external push. "Quite the feat, I should say. Anyway. His magic pointed at this - our - plane or world as the location of the threat. He sent you here and you intend to travel around killing the undead mages responsible and searching for their master. Did I get it right?"

As Thyrius wipes the salve on Xemnez's eyes, as Xemnez is used to, his view of reality shifted slightly. Seeing everything as it was...surprisingly little changed. The group they spoke changed not at all.  It would seem they were all exactly whom they appeared to be. The icy world and the trees also did not change. Even able to see into the ethereal he noticed nothing untoward in the area.  

However it did allow him to see a wild and beautiful looking woman's head sticking out of the tree trunk. As he looked at her, she turned and made eye contact with him.  She grinned a rather happy grin and winked at him.  Then, seeing there was no danger and they were planning on settling down, the girl climbed out of the tree trunk as if it weren't there at all, and hopped up onto the stone wall separating the trees.  From there, she began walking along, balancing lightly on the stone, her hands outstretched, humming slightly to herself as she listened to the group converse. The girl was clothed in what appeared to be vines and leaves arranged in a rather skimpy dress that revealed a good deal of light green skin, the dress trailing off behind her. Her skin had a light green hue and her hair seemed made entirely from overlapping leaves that hung down behind her.  Her green eyes sparkled with flecks of golden. 

Unfortunately Thyrius could not see the girl at all. Though he did notice the faint humming and saw the tiny indications of her movement on the stone wall, she seemed otherwise to be entirely invisible. 

Thyrius turns to the Kenku and sends him some subtle thieves motions. The Kenku turned to regard him....but did not reply. Instead it's black blank eyes that were adjusted far enough that he could look forward, stared at Thyrius blankly. His beaked face was no easier to read. Despite any feeling of kinship, he received no intention or reading from the Kenku itself at all. 

Xemnez couldn't help but watch the dryad, seeming half mesmerized by her figure and song, and yet somehow still attentive to the others as his ears would occasionally flicker at points in the ongoing conversation. Only really turning the once following Mirica admission, Xemnez at least nodded in acceptance before his gaze drifted back to the spirit, mumbling something along the lines of "How do the Sun Guide's even manage..."

Torn back more fully at the mention of Ajani, Xemnez chuckled and crossed his arms. "Ajani is a Leonin like us, and not just some simple wizard at that. He is a Planeswalker, and a member of the-..." He pauses again in recognizing some of the blank looks on the others, and then sighs and face pawed. "... Right... Suffice it to say, between the three of us, and... possibly whatever allies we happened upon, it should've been enough. We arrived however far too close to what think the epicenter of the corruption, given the sheer amount of undead mages and this... this great Orb that they were direct energy towards from these different portals."

"Ajani at which point directed us to retreat into the nearest one least we be overwhelmed, and cut it at least off. However-..." He trailed off at that moment to finally sit down at the spread, don't seem too deep in thought for a moment to eat. "-things did not go as well, as said before." Xemnez then looks up to Mirica. "I cannot say if the center of that madness is upon this world to be exact. But it is clear that yours and far more has been tied to it." 

"Well I'm going to go outside for a bit since conversation seems to have died down a bit..." After hopefully some of the questions being answered. Simaal goes outside and offers same type of food to the green lady, and asks her if she wants to play dice. If she does teach her some solo dice skills, I will be leaving dice with her so she has something to do. As well ask her if she can make use of any normal utensils we have, maybe a knife so she can make little shapes out of ice, carve into ice, etc.

Toc cracks an eye open and raises an eyebrow, looking at Xemnez with renewed interest. He slides his hood back, sitting crosslegged, his wooden staff lain across his lap.  "Undead mages. Great orb. Energy from portals."  He glances at Mirica and the others. "How much more can you tell us about this? Details are important. How many portals?  You went towards a portal?  Did you make it through? Where did you appear? How many undead wizards?" 

He pulls out some paper and ink and quill and begins asking for details....obviously hoping to draw the scene Xemnez is describing.

Thyrius answers the last question first: "About three dozen, all moving about an enormous orb which seems to be receiving dark energy from five distinct sources. A streak of foul energy zoomed from each of five portals into this large orb. As my brother explained, for our own survival, we rushed toward the closest one of these portals. On the other side, we found a smaller but similar orb sending its foul energy through the portal, as well as two more of these undead mages. They were accompanied by two large faceless monstrosities who were made off black stone. It was a hard fight, and we had lost Ajani by then, but the arrival of a different creature helped turn the tide. It/they/she... I cannot be certain... was/were a mix of a goat and an owl, and seem to ramble madly about purging any unwarranted presence in the smaller orb's chamber. My brother and I defeated one undead mage, and this creature defeated or scared away the other. To our surprise, she then engaged in combat against us, wielding magic and the two stone creatures. We had not noticed that they were under her command until then. We defeated one but were in no condition to fight the second and its master. We retreated but were not chased. Upon exiting the small orb's chamber, we noticed we were in a small city sitting on a disk, most of it made of that same black stone. The city was stuck in the ice at an odd angle, and seemed to have its own gravitational field. We kept moving out of the city and into icy tunnels. It was not an easy nor short trek, but we eventually made it to this grove."

Thyrius pauses after talking for such a long time. "Now, we have explained our plight honestly and in much detail. Why don't you do the same? You have introduced yourselves and have clearly fought many enemies on our way here. However, you are yet to detail what it is you are searching and why. We have even mentioned our benefactor, Ajani. Who might be yours?" His tone is not aggressive, but his words are direct, much like Mirica's had been.

A few moments later, a realization comes to the black cat: "Our fur has kept us somewhat warm since our arrival, but its ability to comfort us against this unrelenting cold is diminished with each passing moment. You are clearly well-provisioned and mentioned something about extra supplies, yes?" Only then does Thyrius reach for some food.

Simaal leaves his extra snowsuit down by them before he leaves to chat with the green lady.

"Indeed, why not..." Mirica did not look at the others but made a pause long enough to send a message.

"From what you are saying, it seems your Ajani was not wrong about pointing at our world. Though, it sounds far more complicated now. You will have to hear a bit of the history to understand, but if I know anything it's that people are the same, no matter where they live and how they look. It would not be too alien. So, centuries ago, one of the Empires of our plane -Netheril - raised above all others. People there worshipped magic above all else and relied on it in everything. They created flying cities where they lived and from which they could safely attack the rest of the world. However, they did not stop there. In their arrogance, they attempted to attain the divinity of magic and wound up damaging the Weave - very magic itself.  In the resulting maelstrom, most of the flying cities of Netheril came crashing to the earth. Unfortunately, that was not the end. One of those netheresian wizards - Larloch - to avoid death extended his "life" by becoming an undead, a lich. The most powerful ever existed. Also, the most insane. The battles with him are part of the legendarium for many nations and in many cases just that - legends. The mortal world did not interest him for a long while. However, recently we have a reason to believe he is trying to use it - the world - for... I wish I could tell but that is a mystery. We only know if he gets what he wants, it will mean the end of the world, as pompous as it sounds."

"For now, Larloch is searching for the ancient netheresian cities to rip off the orbs, called Mythallars, the source of the cities magical powers. Mythallars got corrupted when the cities were fallen, and it is that corruption that he seeks. He is not the only one who wants the cities - any wizard would give the right hand for the chance to get an artifact from there. There is a whole realm that thinks of itself as the rightful heir for the cities. Corrupt and greedy are fighting for bits of information about them. But if Larloch gets what he wants, that squabbles would not matter much. We, who you see here, are searching for Mythallars to cleanse them from corruption and prevent from falling into Larloch hands."

"In short, we are heading to that city, that you just escaped. Most likely, to the very chamber with the goat-owl creature. You do not have to go with us, but if you can show the way, it might save our group some magic for the search and approach."

Seeming relieved in his brother stepping in to garnish the details, Xemnez took that opportunity to take in at least some of the spread, if though some tentativeness, and not without whispering what sounded to be a prayer just prior to the first bite. A small look of relief blooms on his face after which, and like a man left starving for days, he snatches up as much as he could without hopefully intercepting someone else's prize.

Seeing the snowsuit left behind by Simaal out of the corner of his eyes, Xemnez grimaced a little, perhaps realizing only then what the man had meant earlier about a possible poor fitting. In a slight low waving motion as he turned to Mirica, Thyrius would know the gesture to be Xem's haphazard way of saying 'help yourself' in regards to the coat. For if anyone had a chance of not destroying the thing, it would be his brother...

"Hmph. It could be that this Larloch seeks the Nexus, and wishes to seize it for his own gain." Xemnez then chuffs. "With it... even I shudder to think what madness he spread throughout the multiverse just from grasping it." He admits, then seemed to drift off in thought, brushing the base of his mane by hand. "... An hours rest. Alot us this, and we shall take you there. Though how you will get to this... Myth-lairs I cannot fathom. For as we departed, some form of magical barrier had been erected to shield it from our doubling back. No doubt the work of that creature supposedly protecting it." 

From within the dimly lit magical dome, Toc asks Xemnez and Thyrius to describe the layout of the two Mythallar rooms. He seems most interested in the configuration of the portals in the room full of the undead, which he calls Liches. The brothers describe it best as they can.  He examines his own drawing, tapping his fingers on it and staring at it intently as if some knowledge would make itself clear. Eventually he rolls it up and returns it to a scroll case and his bag. 

Still interested in the conversation, but watching Simaal interacting with the invisible Dryad, Toc moved to a kneeling position and seemed to focus for a moment. Xemnez, with his powerful all seeing vision is able to catch the warping of the ethereal plane for a brief moment before a sizable chest appeared before him with an audible "woosh".  It was gilded and covered in fine elven carvings, images of an elven city amidst the trees.  Toc places a hand on it and a click is heard before he pulls open the lid. Inside it looked like a well organized junk drawer. All manner of goods were stuffed in side in a rather cluttered way.  He shuffles through this stuff for a bit before pulling out a silver mirror, a flute, some finally made furred gloves and a hat, along with a soft and lengthy scarf.  He pulls out a jacket and fur lined pants but then glances at the nearly 7 foot tall lion warrior and places them back carefully. A horn is placed to one side, along with a whistle and some drawing equipment. He passes the clothing to Xemnez, "Better than nothing for the moment. I will be able to fetch you something better fitting shortly."  The mirror, whistle, horn, flute, and drawing gear he puts together and glances at Simaal. 

Though the gloves and hat are a bit tight, they will keep Xemnez warm. The scarf will work well to put around his neck and drape down across his mid section. As Toc says, better than nothing. 

Toc closes the chest which locks itself with a clink. Then he focus' on it once more and the thing vanishes with another "woosh". Then he says, "I'll reform the hut in a few minutes." 

He steps clear of the magical dome and it vanishes. The cold air swirls in immediately, a chilling cold embracing the group. 

Toc speaks a single word and a doorway appears before him. He opens it up and inside what appears to be a store room, packed full with shelves and shelves worth of equipment can be seen. He emerges a few minutes later with a large set of cold weather gear.  He passes it to Xemnez, "This should fit you."  He also passes both brothers a set of spikes that can clearly be buckled onto you boots.  "If there is any other gear that you would like for this environment, let me know now."  

(anyone else in the group can also fetch any basic equipment from the extra-dimensional store room.) 

After fetching the gear, he once again spends ten minutes erecting the warm dimly lit hut so that everyone can take their rest in comfort. 

Mentally to Simaal:

Once back in the dome, and returning his attention to the entire group he says to the two brothers, "Yours is the first evidence we have of the damage being done to the weave being more than just a...relatively...localized phenomenon. If it is affecting other....worlds...then it indeed is far reaching. It's troubling that Larloch already has so many Mythallar tied into his machinations. Your work to disrupt his connection to the Ythyrn Mythallar was important. But, we must secure it to ensure he can't do more harm. This guardian you mention has so far been inadequate it appears, if his Liches have been able to form such a connection under its very nose." 

Mirica or Nuzej can roll Religion if they want recognize a clue. 

So far, the human wizard named Nuzej has been particularly quiet. He seems to be spending his time focusing on what is being said by others. He's done little other than nodding to the two brothers in greeting upon their initial meeting. 

As the conversation progresses, the Kenku has remained all but silent, in both word and unspoken language. He is easy to forget about as he sits stone still, most of the time seemingly focused on the ground in front of him. 

With the warmth of the magical dome, and the soft animal fur carpet floor, the exhaustion of the past day for the brothers quickly takes its toll and they find themselves getting drowsy. Likewise, for the rest of the group, you've been at it for nearly 24 hours now after leaving the tower out in the tundra and your ready to pass out. It seems all around, people start absently drifting....the complex conversations difficult to keep track of and pauses between exchanges seem to lengthen.

Anyone of the original group that doesn't get a complete long rest now will gain a level of exhaustion.  Let me know if you do anything else before a long rest, and what you do regarding watches, especially given your new company.  The brothers can also benefit from a long rest, but won't gain exhaustion if the decide to use the time for something else.

Religion: 4 + 1 from Guidance

While Toc was pondering about Mythallars, Mirica could not stop thinking about the guardian. It (did brothers say "she"?) did not make sense. One or the other - owl or goat, but both... And yet, she saw pictures like this or heard stories... The image was disturbing and elusive. "Can you draw a picture of that strange creature?" finally asked she the lions. "Thank you." (For the picture too, should one be given) "Then get some rest and at the morning," (she had her ways to tell when it happens) "we return to the cities. We will see what to do once there."

Heavily wounded brothers needed some rest, and Mirica hoped they trusted each other enough for them to simply go to sleep. The group was tired, but had some scratches at best, so, the watches were simply resumed according to the way they were set. Between four of them and Toc's insomnia, it had to be enough.

Simaal accepts Toc's offer and spends a bit of time with the green lady before letting her know we need to keep watch and so my time is done. I leave with her the items that she wanted to keep herself entertained. Then he mentions he'll take first watch.

Almost as soon as Xemnez tries on the hat and gloves they are set aside with a shake of his head. Once they were out of the dome at extreme length he'd revisit the "topic" of wearing them, or so he had in mind. The scarf is at least more readily accepted with grin and spent some absent-minded playing at the tassels until the next display of magic had him staring fairly wide-eyed at the storage.

".. Hmn... You have our thanks." Xemnez carries on putting on the new layer of added wear caring little for modesty over properly escaping from the cold in the immediate moments. "None that I can think of in the moment. But if you have anything you 'think' we can use..." He trailed off there, leaving things to the wizard while he walked around for a bit, trying to get used to the new booties. Of the bird and the human wziard, Xem only pays them so much mind after awhile, as so long they hadn't bothered his brother too much.

"A picture? Hmmn... That seems more your area than mines, Brother." He adds suggestively. As that is being settled, realizing a little after the fact that the rest would be a lengthier one than expected, Xemnez makes sure to settle near his brother, but would remain awake through any first watch as well. If attention is drawn to this act, he merely chuffs and says, "Tradition. I can speak more of it if you wish. But otherwise, worry not. I will find my rest in time." With that said, the younger Leonin spends much of the first watches time divided between maintaining his gear and truly taking in their surroundings for the first time since arriving in the cave, mentally noting and sometimes softly commenting on the strangeness of the environment.

Larloch's description piques Thyrius' interest. He keeps his thoughts to himself, but wonders if this is the creature his 'ancestor' was referring to on the night before their Planeswalking business started.

The coat provided by the adventurers and refused by Xem is taken up by Thyrius. He wouldn't let the kind gesture go in vain, even if the fit was indeed dubious. The warmth it provided, however, was quite comforting. The boot spikes are met with confusion, though. Thyrius and Xemnez both used foot wrappings, and those two sets of gear were quite incompatible. Leonin have powerful claws on all four paws, so they could serve the same purpose as the the one intended by the boot spikes.

At some point during the conversation, Thyrius makes a comment regarding the other members of this party: "Your group is numerous, but about half of you refuse to speak or walk away mid-conversation to enjoy some tryst. If the knowledge we have to share with you is so valuable to your quest, how is it that this behavior seems so passively normalized? I mean no offense, and you have been quite kind to us, but this is a bit odd to me. It is just plain cultural curiosity, but I must ask: is this normal social behavior in this frozen world of yours?" It is clear Thyrius has not been able to separate the current environment they find themselves in from the vastness of the world, even if an explanation was attempted. 

-> Throwing in a insight check in there for good measure: 22

Thyrius does indeed try to draw a picture for Mirica once his brother 'throws the ball on his side of the court', assuming he is provided with charcoal and parchment.

-> And why not a drawing check as well: 17

For his watch, and he'll insist on taking one either alone or paired up with someone from the new crew, Thyrius will use his Ghostly Gaze to increase the chances of spotting any trouble. Other than that, if his brother is willing to trust their safety to watches performed by these kind strangers, then Thyrius will trust Xemnez's gut.

Side note, Simaal waited until conversation died down before leaving to play dice and the like with the green lady, just went out earlier to provide some food. The winter clothes from Simaal are for someone a little over 6 foot tall but still obviously not made for leonine folk. "Boots are obviously going to be a problem, the spikes are meant to be worn under the boots, but walking barefoot on ice cannot be that pleasant, not that we may have a choice without the magic to alter clothing size. But if you need more wrappings or the like, I have some light clothing that will probably not be useful for quite some time, and can be shredded as required." (he offers some an outfit that looks to be fairly light and made for the desert along with another that's more average temperature).

"Ah don't mind the others, the bird almost never speaks, and he (pointing at Nuzej) has an ebb and flow to talking akin to an ocean where one is buried neck deep in the sand on the edge of the ebb mid point. Mirica on the other hand loves talking, and so she does." he smiles and glances her way, something tells you he's about to duck if anything flying heads his way. "As well some of us met part way, so we simply do not have the details that would be of importance to add, and thus we're quieter especially when things of import are being discussed."

Thyrius thanks Simaal for the additional explanations and accepts the extra 'foot wrappings'. He'll use them as needed, though will still rely on his claws for additional grip on the icy ground.

"I like you too, Simaal," Mirica returned the smile showing a bit too sharp (for a human or half-elf) teeth. "You see, Thyrius," addressed she inquisitive lion, "we all came from the very different places bound by only one goal - to stop Larloch. It took some time to learn to work together and the task itself is not for ... ordinary folk. We have our quirks and differences that we learned to overlook for the sake of cooperation. I understand if our ways of communication look peculiar from the outside but ask you to just accept it as it is, for now." (Mirica sounded very open and honest with not a hint of deception. You could even tell "deception" would not be her strong suit to begin with.) She looked at the drawing. "Thank you for the picture. This is..." she looked at the parchment with surprise.

Simaal interactions with the dryad have been pleasant. She is fascinated by the dice games and the aspect of chance. Though she seems to struggle with any sort of strategy or the 'purpose' of the games. Instead she seems happy to just experience the moment, tossing the dice and watching as they tumble to a rest. She also seems pleased to just experience the presence of Simaal with her, the sound his voice makes in this place. She tells him, "You and your friends can eat some pears if you like. They are imbued with the magic of the grove and will have different effects. But..****y eat one at a time or you can get quite sick. And, if you take them out of the grove they'll only last a day or so before rotting." 

Toc lets the lighting in the dome slowly dim as people settle into their rests. Despite the sudden and mixed company everyone rests very easy...worn and tired muscles and sore and damaged bodies heal as you sleep on the thick fur floor in the warm magical hut. 

The dryad seems able to walk "into" the ground as well as the trees, and submerges herself beneath the earth so that she can emerge up through the floor of the hut, shoving aside some fur to reach the main room. She spends the entire evening sitting crosslegged and just listening to the group breath, and watching them as the sleep or sit on watch. 

Long rest achieved.

There is no indication it is morning, except the collapse of the magical hut. The magic shimmers and gives way and cold air washes into the space, darkness enveloping the icy grove. Light spells are quickly cast bringing the space into a warm yellow glow.  Toc and the others pull out rations and though it seems the wizard spices his up with sprinkling some magic across it, Xemnez and Thyrius note that they look particularly unhappy with the fare they have. Toc notices and says, "One of our allies that is no longer with us. He was...an amazing chef. And I'm afraid we'd all quite gotten used to having these amazing meals. We'd become spoiled."  He takes a bite of some chewy jerky that breaks away with a snap, and a heavy sigh. 

Toc looks to the brothers, "I have a daily ritual I perform. It will allow you to breath in water normally. I will include you if you are interested."  With that he begins casting a spell that the group associates with the morning camp routine...Water Breathing. 

When Mirica opens her eyes after sleeping she takes a moment to refocus on reality. Her dreams are still heavy in her mind, imagery and thoughts dancing around merging with what's real. She'd dreamt....about the owl goat thing....and..in her dream...she'd called it Auril. Of course!  She felt like literally slapping her head with an open palm. She'd read about Auril the Ice Maiden, and one of the forms she was known to take was this hybrid owl goat creature with a hobbled walk and a long cloak. She lay there for a moment considering the implications that Auril, who was enforcing an endless winter here, also seemed to claim the lost city of Ythryn as her own. Yet somehow Larloch's Lichs had been sneaking in and stealing the Mythallar's power from under her very nose. Bold, even for Larloch. 

Mirica was not only a morning person, but felt dawn no matter where she was - part of the heavy drills any acolyte of the Morning Lord gets. After the quiet prayers, she joined breakfast, fresh and energetic. "How are your wounds?" The lions looked expectedly better, which was good, of course, considering who they were up against. Simaal and others were expectedly quiet, and Toc was expectedly gloomy, but it did not affect his fighting, so, all was good.

"Why don't you try the pear? Our little hostess allowed it." Mirica too missed Chen's cooking (and him too, of course!). No pears, no matter how magical they were, would replace it. By the way, how magical were they? She bit the fruit - surprisingly fresh for the frozen cave. When breakfast ended she brushed off a few crumbs and said. "I remembered who that goat-owl figure was. Sorry it took so long, I was confused by the "goat" part. It's more of a ram, though does not change the main fact, that the "strange figure" is Auril herself. Her avatar, to be precise, but usually, an avatar is enough for the mortals to deal with. Yes, it seems the goddess herself decided to guard Mythallar of the frozen city. In any other case, I would be the first one to suggest walking away. But from what Thyrius and Xemnez told us, it looks like she is unable to protect the orb against Larloch." Mirica was not sure the lion brothers recognized their names in her pronunciation but genuinely tried. "I see no other option but to face a diety." With a very serious expression, she added, "Thyrius and Xemnez, you were incredibly brave to fight against a goddess. That you were able to hold your ground and keep your life, is very impressive. Have you noticed anything that could give us an edge in a potential fight?" The priestess seemed to be serious about a fight against the goddess, though, did not say she expect the brothers to fight with the group.