Ralnor shakes his head. 

“No. I do have some skill. Sky fingers you call it. But I have not taken from honest shopkeepers.”

Ralnor watches the temple for any signs of movement in or out while he talks with Luxaene.

Holden stays quietly and reserved, though quickly follows the group to the temple should they choose to leave. 

"Hm? Such skills might prove useful in time." Luxaene also keeps an eye out, looking to see if the group is catching any attention. 

((Is thee anything Morkas would know about the temple?))

Hush casually strolls around the small enchantment store in an attempt to snatch a singular magical item from the abundant sources of items nearby. Juno Perception: 4 - Hush times his movements carefully when Juno seems preoccupied by fiddling with the mechanisms on her work table which serves as a customer checkout area and manages to lift a singular ring without being noticed!

With well wishes from Juno, the party returns to the serene streets of the Morka - earning stern, untrusting glances from the mostly masked figures strolling about their day. The pyramid-like Morka Temple looms in the distance, cutting an imposing figure over the rest of the city; three tiers joined by a staircase running down each pyramid face can be seen, culminating in a small alter atop the pyramid at an angle where it isn’t quite possible to see any at the top. 

Those of the Morka know the Temple is where the reigning Elder - currently Femor - resides and rules over the town, often joined by spellcasters or other political figures for meeting. All political talks happen inside this temple; emissaries and ambassadors will be invited to a certain tier - and presumably treated with more respect or interest - depending on their spellcasting abilities. This is also where citizens may request meetings with Femor, again adjusted based on their current caste. Interestingly, while certainly priest-like and worshiping in nature, very few of the Morka claim to be divine casters - the Morka literally worship knowledge itself, be it arcane or mundane. 

Either way, the coast is clear - it can reasonably be assumed telling the dozen or so guard-like figures (none of who bear weapons) at the gates that Femor invited you is enough to be granted passage - for any who lied or twisted Femor’s will would be subject to his wrath, and Morka believe in ultimate deference to the one designated as ruler. To question them is betrayal. 

(For the ring): 8 - this ring, like all other rings in the shop, contains a spell which may be casted once per day by the wearer using their spell save DC (10+Proficiency bonus if the wearer is not a Spellcaster). This yellow ring is unnaturally light and speckled with red splotches - it contains the feather fall spell.

Once Hush leaves the shop, Ralnor nods towards the temple.

"To see Femor now?" Ralnor asks. "See what his intent is?"

He then makes his way to the temple and lets the guards know Femor wants to see them and asks for directions.

Hush casually walks out, and when everyone looks at him, he shrugs and says uncharacteristically out loud, "What?" As the group moves through the town towards Femor and the temple, he turns the ring over in his hands to inspect it closely, then tucks it away as they get closer.

Holden seems to relax a little bit once the group leaves the store, but still avoids the gaze or look of any Morka looking towards the group. He continues to follow, his head down towards the back of the group. 

Lazarus follows the group along, watching with a smirk as Hush inspects his ring. It was indeed a good bit of thievery, but such an act was below Lazarus. Still, he scratches his head as he considers the price of the rings. He really should stock up some gold and visit the store again. 

The party - some carrying more with them than they had entered - trails out of the enchanter's store located within the second circle of the Morka, earning strange looks from the mostly masked individuals going about their business nearby. The party quite clearly sticks out like a sore thumb, and any of the Morka would know standing out is something to be avoided. 

Despite this, the party delves further into the magically-constructed Morka town; the streets seem magically paved to be quite smooth. Intricate pattering seems to spiral along the ground - where in the outer circle the streets were cobbled stone clearly made and maintained by peasants, the second circle has stone-like streets almost perfectly constructed. The houses, too, seem magically maintained; as you wander along, translucent, invisible servants dust the streets, tend to lawns, wash windows, and perform all sorts of household chores. 

Passing one abode in particular, something else can be seen - two masked individuals stand before a doorway to another of the identical huts comprising the second circle. In the ajar doorway is a creature of vaguely humanoid shape; glowing, blue gowns engraved with runes of different schools of magic flow down to where the creature's ankles should be, though no legs or supports are seen below that. The creature is apparently hovering in the air. It still wears a mask; where the Morka's masks are red and painted in white, this creature's mask is a vibrant, ethereal blue. The mask seems to float where the head should be; hovering in the center of where its head should be is a pinprick of light which shines through the creature's mask. 

They pay you no attention as you walk by. After another minute or so of travel, you come across the barrier between the second and first circles of the Morka; again, a bridge crosses a river flowing in a clockwise direction around the center. Visible across the bridge is the dominating, multi-tiered Morka temple along with only a half-dozen other identical huts of unique fashion. 

Two of who you assume to be guards flank the entrance. One places a hand up as you respond - the masked man's eyes flit over the party and narrow. "State your business."

Lazarus recognizes the spell that creates invisible servants as one belonging to his repertoire. Mr. Demar taught me that spell back when I was a student in the Empire. Then, where did he learn it from? Did he visit this city too? I never heard of him talking of somewhere like this...

Moving on, seeing the ethereal creature both frightens and entrances him. Realizing that the Morka mages seem to have the power to summon magical creatures, Lazarus draws on his knowledge of magic to try to identify what type of creature this is. 

Arcana: 18

When the party arrives at the temple, Lazarus bows in an uncharacteristic display of respect. "Guards, we wish to enter the temple. Your leader, Fermor, has requested to see us." 

Ralnor walks along with the others. A growing feeling of discomfort comes over him.

"I do not like being exposed like this," Ralnor says as they move closer to the temple.

When Lazarus bows, Ralnor looks at him and cocks his head to one side then looks at the guards to see their reaction. Instead of bowing and exposing his neck, he keeps his eyes fixed on the guards.

Luxaene walks with the others, her head held high: This was her path. No matter what her people think now.

The walks magically paved streets, still beautifully impressive. Walking through the inner circle and towards the temple sends memories coming back; the high emotion of excitement and the call of duty almost knocks her down... but she steels on.

"Hold strong, Ralnor. I understand the discomfort, and that is the intention. Once our business with our Elder is carried, I do not believe we will have much reason to stay." Luxaene keeps her eyes ahead as she walks, her volume not too loud for others to here. 

Once they reach the guards, Luxaene speaks up also, "This one speaks the truth; we have business with Elder Fermor," Luxaene gives a side-glance to Lazarus, "we like to think you have been informed. Please let us pass."

Ralnor gives Luxaene a short but respectful nod of his head, the tension in his body easing somewhat at her words.

Holden continues to follow quietly. He brings his head back down each time someone looks towards the group, and respectfully tries to avoid any eye contact with others.

Hush nods to Ralnor as he mentions the feeling of being exposed, "Just means we'll need to be on best behaviour," and gives him a wink as he drops some crumbs on the ground just a little away from the invisible cleaners to see if they rush over to clean up his mess.

While Lazarus’s magical education was mostly through the forbidden lens of the Imperium, the subject of spectres arrived on more than one occasion. Described as a savage ritual of necromantic magic, evidently when those with a strong bond to a Soulmask perish, their souls live on inside their masks - and through a certain magical process, can be raised again as magically-enhanced souls bound to this realm with their Soulmasks serving as a conduit between the living and dead. Such souls are evidently as intelligent as when they were alive and contain their personalities - and also their powers, and can, well - ‘live’ among the living without issue. 

As Lazarus takes his bow, the two unarmored Morka guards cast searching, masked looks over the party. It is clear they didn’t trust the party - whether that he for their lack of evident magic and soulmasks or perhaps Lazarus’s somewhat Imperial attire is difficult to tell, though they stand at rapt attention following Lazarus’s words. “Very well - if the Elder requested your presence, you may pass. Since you do not appear to be from around here, the Elder Femor is commonly seen on the third floor of the temple.” the stationed guard nods, pointing towards the pyramid-like, three-tiered temple towering over the rest of the uniform Morka. The other positioned guard mutters something similar to a spell under her breath - nothing visibly changes, though the two part to grant passage for the party to enter the highest circle of the Morka. It is clear the guards found Lazarus’s words as a valid reason to allow the party through - any of the Morka would understand how strict the society is, and uttering a lie about the Elder’s will holds such powerful unsaid repercussions it is best to assume the truth has been said. Ralnor, with his focus on the guards, would learn more about them - make an Arcana check for the spellcasting guard, and a general Perception check as well.

Meanwhile, Hush has earned  the fervent attention of one of the stationed unseen servants ensuring the Morka tribe is sufficiently cleaned - and also the irritated stare of one or two Morka passerbies, though little else happens besides the mindless servant trailing behind Hush for but a moment like a puppy awaiting food to be dropped from a dinner table. (Take an inspiration for that - you earned a chuckle from me.)

Hush follows the others past the guards, subtly trying to shoo his follower. He gives the guards a broad smile and a salute as he walks by, then ducks in among the others to hide. As they walk up the various levels, he looks about as is usual for things of value and opportunities (Perception: 17).

After sighting the specters, Lazarus begins to tremble with excitement, though he tries to control himself. He murmurs under his breath, "It was said it could not be done, but this...this is proof! What other warped arcane secrets do these Morka know?"

The young noble is surprised how quickly the guards opened the way for them that he fails to notice the spell one of the guards was casting. He smiles towards his companions and follows inside the temple. Entering inside this sanctum of the Morka, Lazarus hungrily searches for other creations of magic, especially those with a necromantic bent, as they head up to the third floor. 

Ralnor Arcana Check: 7   Perception: 14  

Ralnor's not familiar with magic but he knows hand signals and the guards were definitely doing something. He watches their movements carefully to make sure the party is safe before joining the others as they head up to the third floor.

What Ralnor spots isn’t quite familiar to him - especially in terms of spells; he can’t figure out what the specifics of the incantation are, though with that Perception check, he certainly tells a spell - well, more like a modification to an existing, barrier-like spell - has been casted. What it does, or did, is entirely a mystery. The guard’s gestures and motions seem routine in a ‘let them pass’ sort of way; nothing indicated present danger or hostility to the party. 

Progressing through into the inner circle of the Morka is perhaps an expected sight given what the party knows of the Morka; magically smooth-carved pathways cut through lush, blue-green grasses and magically enhanced foliage to give the place a semblance of reminiscence to the forest outside the settlement. Aside from the looming, pyramid-like temple located within the direct iris of the eye-shaped village, Hush can see around a dozen different alternate buildings dotted within the center of the Morka. While it is difficult to ascertain the nature, purpose, or function of these huts, Hush does spot more semi-transluscent images sweeping the floors and tending to gardens or exteriors of some of them, indicating they are residential buildings for high-standing citizens or perhaps meeting / communal places for the upper echelon of Morka society. One in particular seems to be a miniature coliseum or sand-pitted arena in some sort of way. 

Making the long trudge up the staircase leading directly upwards to an unseen platform atop the Morka temple is an arduous process. With around thirty steps per flight, you are all certainly at least somewhat winded by the time you reach the top. More on the temple, however; carved of graying stone and shale, the temple is quite magnificent in size and grandiosity. Pathways branch out from the stairways at each defined ‘tier’ where citizens are filed into in accordance to their castes, wherein they would meet with the Elder or one of their associates to discuss the usual matter or complaint. What is, however, noticeable, are runes and glyphs carved into the sides of the stone walls - changing in size, length, and even language as you climb further and further up towards the top. Stationed at the corners of each tier is what appears to be a motionless, similarly gray stone statue of a hooded figure, each wearing a robe dotted with stone, unmoving eyes. Nothing too valuable catches the attention of Hush.

Regardless, the party progresses upwards until they reach the final platform, formerly nseeable to the party - or, really, anyone else on the ground. What results is a cleverly oriented, open-roofed platform around 30 ft. square. No roof or walls enclose the area; the sun bears down through the clear blue skies above, though notably not quite as bad as one would expect. The wind is chilly, though muted; the air cold, yet magically tolerable. Situated in the center of the floor is a pedestal, on top of which rests a small vessel which comfortably cups a rather large, mist-swirled crystal ball inside. Even without casting any sort of spell, this object notably radiates magical energy. Standing with his back to it and looking at the party is none other than Femor; dressed in usual Morka attire with a large, curled, eye-painted Soulmask on his face, he greets the party with a silent nod, the purple-pink gown flowing around his robes fluttering with the impact. 

“Welcome. I predicted you would arrive, though that is not quite surprising.” A pause. Femor‘s orange eyes look you all over through his mask. “I may know your reason for being here. Come. Speak with me. Tell me your stories - whether they be rhyme or reason, truth or lie. I will then share my information.”