Chapter 17: Deep Reflections

[Dave W.]

will do, does he take the backpack with him? Im just wondering if there was something that keeps it from “folding” into the mirror...

[Jeff]

All his current possessions are with him.

[Joe]

"Should I be amused that the three remaining members of our little troop are the spellcasters whose abilities are somewhat changed by this place and whose abilities cannot be truly relied upon? Damn the Six! Now, what do we do?"

[Darren]

(waiting to see what happens with Belarin....)

[Jeff]

Sept 8, 2019 21:33:10 GMT -4 Darren said:

(waiting to see what happens with Belarin....)

Sept 7, 2019 21:45:45 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The crack in the wall has splintered the reflective surface, and Belarin sees nothing of significance in it. But others around it still show him, Kal, and Streko dimly. Each a variation in your peripheral vision.

Nothing of consequence happens to Belarin.

[Darren]

Kal watches Adamant disappear, his outstretched hands useless to stop it. He stands frozen for a minute. "Shit," he finally says. He turns to face his friends. "Now what? We can no longer search the pack. So...do we break the mirrors and risk trapping them in there forever, if that's how it works, or do we follow them in knowing that we all may be lost forever? Or do we just wait?"

[Ken]

Belarin leans against the dais and is silent for several seconds. "We can't wait," he says. "Time is not on our side ... or Histra's. And destroying the mirrors would be - and excuse my academic language - really bad." He pauses. "The dragon had warned that we could get lost in there, but you can't risk getting lost in the woods unless you enter the woods. I think we need to go in." He looks at Kal and Streko for confirmation.

[Darren]

Kal draws in a deep breath, then exhales it slowly. "Okay," he says at last. "I think you may be right. But we do this smart." He intentionally turns his back to the mirrors on the dais, commanding his friends' attention. "Remember that whatever you see in there, it is not reality. This, right here," he reaches out a hand to each of his friends, "this is who we are. Before we do anything, I think we need to each concentrate on who we are, on each other, and fix that picture firmly in our minds. Then, when we are ready, we all look at the same reflection together, remembering who we are, and that what we are seeing is not us. We do this together, as one." He looks into each of his friends' eyes, seeing his own reflection in them. "If you are ready, come join me."

Kal moves to the dais and sits, cross-legged, facing the mirrors. He does not look at his reflection, but instead closes his eyes, placing his sharrash across his lap and his hands on his knees. He takes slow, deep, deliberate breaths, feeling the air on his skin, the smooth material of his high collared shirt, the weight of the chainmail on top of it, the leather straps digging into his right leg. He fixes an image of himself in his head, remembers his mother and father and brothers the last time he saw them. He pictures Belarin and Streko, his companions through more in such a short time than anyone else he's known in his life. He sees Melethos and Adamant and Shorak. Even Thul. He smiles remembering them all, exactly as they were before they disappeared, every detail fixing itself in his mind. He sees Adamant's gleaming eye gems and the octogram on his chest. He sees the braid of hair hanging at Melethos' belt and the golden shine of his eyes. He sees Shorak, watching every corner, always alert, the wicked boomerang flashing from his hand. He sees Thul's scarred face, the stormcoat hanging on him like a second skin. He pictures Belarin smiling and laughing as he launches bolts of red flame at their enemies and he sees the shine of love in his eyes as he looks at Histra. Finally, Kal pictures Streko, the halfling who has become like a brother to him. He sees the halfling's smile as they share a meal together, and the look of concern that he's seen on the halfling's face so many times as he poured healing energy into Kalarian. He sees the halfling with his sister, Varna, and Kal's heart beats a little faster.

Eyes still closed, Kal smiles. "I am ready, my friends," he says calmly, reaching his hands out to either side for his friends to take. "When you are ready, take my hand, and we will look at the reflection together."

[Ken]

Belarin nods after Kal speaks. He thinks of his parents, lost in a war that seems utterly ridiculous now. He believes he loved them, and that they loved him.

He recalls his hatred - still white hot - of the cleric who tormented and abused him. He sees Raeshara, Bonescrape, and Valk. He sees all of his friends and their sacrifices for each other, not to mention their tolerance for his many less-than-well-considered actions.

In his mind's eye, he sees vividly his first encounter with Histra, and how passionately they tried to kill each other. He recalls how they finally made love just as passionately months later in - of all places - Dolurrh.

"It's been a good existence," he says with a smile. "I doubt these mirrors will show me anything more interesting. Let's do this."

He takes Kal's hand and looks at the mirror.

[Joe]

Streko closes his eyes and sighs. "I fear what may haunt me. I fear never seeing Varna again, never seeing my parents again. I fear these mirrors may show me those things I want most and offer them to me. I fear I will be too weak to deny them. I fear getting lost, and staying lost."

He steps over to where Kal and Belarin are now sitting clasping hands. He squirms in between them and takes each of their hands in his.

"What I fear most, however, is allowing my friends, this family I have joined, to remain trapped in what is not real."

In turn he looks over at each of his friends and smiles.

"Let's rescue them. Let's bring them home and then, let's get the dark hells out of this place!"

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

As you say, Belarin, it's been a good and very interesting existence. Let's keep it so."

[Jeff]

Belarin looks into the nearest wall-facet and sees himself sitting there. The face that looks back looks fuller, more vibrant, but otherwise resembles himself.

Kal and Streko are still averting their eyes?

[Darren]

(all three should be looking at the same reflection. Once Kal knows Belarin and Streko are there, he opens his eyes to look at the same reflection they are.)

[Jeff]

Not sure that's clear, but in any case, I await stated actions. So far I've only got Belarin actually doing any looking.

[Darren]

Sept 10, 2019 10:00:26 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Not sure that's clear, but in any case, I await stated actions. So far I've only got Belarin actually doing any looking.

Kal feels Belarin sit down beside him, then Streko, and he feels both men take his hands. "Good," he says. "On the count of three, we all look at the center reflection together. Ready? One. Two. Three....." Kal opens his eyes and looks at the mirror in front of him, hoping to see himself and his friends beside him.

[Joe]

Streko does as he is told, looking at the center reflection, while gripping Kal's and Belarin's hands tightly.

[Jeff]

The reflective facet of the wall in front of you is narrow, but just wide enough for each of you to see yourself and the other two.

The Streko looking back at himself sitting there is wearing the uniform of a House Jorasco hospice. A cap on his head keeps his thick hair out of his eyes.

The Kal looking back is armored in blue and grey leather; it's not a uniform but it looks well made. A ring on one finger gleams, and in place of his sharash is a naked sword. But the Mirror Kal is pale and sweaty. There must be a wound where you see a deep cut in the armor of his shoulder, and blood has already caked the area, and his hands. He looks feverish, yet his expression is the same as the real Kal's.

The Belarin looking back is cleaned up nicely, clad in a feyweave garment of gold, black, and pink, arranged in a fashionable manner that somehow works for him. A red, gem-studded eyepatch covers one eye.

Intelligence saving throws needed for reach. Remember that each of you three has a Royal Ring of Protection from Aundair, which grants a +1 on Int saves.

[Darren]

Kal's save is an 18.

[Jeff]

Kal finds himself fixating on this vision of him. It's strange. He suspects this Kalarian has made some drastic decisions. He looks like a mercenary. Is he even a magic-user?

Kal finds himself wanting to know more, feels himself compelled to study the apparition longer and learn from it. But he doesn't have to. He can sense the magical compulsion about it.

---

To continue looking is essentially to volunteer a failed Intelligence saving throw. But he can, knowing this, choose to look away instead. Your call.

[Darren]

I feel an inexplicable pull from fate (the strong hand of the DM) pulling me in this direction, so I guess I can't fight it any longer....

Kal is compelled to look away, to study his friends' faces instead of his own. But he knows that in order to seek out his missing friends, he must continue down this path. He looks more closely at this false Kalarian, knowing that it is simply a vision and not reality....

[Joe]

"Ah," Streko whispers, "...a calmer world. A more peaceful world and less violent world, I see. I am nothing but a healer in my vision, a transitioner. There is much allure here."
_______________________________________________

Streko's Intelligence check: 12

[Ken]

Belarin looks at the reflection. "I wouldn't have thought pink would go well with gold..." he mutters.

________________

Intelligence saving throw: 1d20(9) + 3 = 12. I'm sure it's a fail, but like Darren said, we're trying to go "inside" at this point.

[Jeff]

Even as Kal stares into his reflection, Streko and Belarin both "see"—but only as much as you can see something while blinking your eyes—him seem to lean forward and drop like a shadow right into the mirror...at which point his reflection vanishes altogether.

Yet they're drawn right back to their own reflections...and follow suit.

Keep eyeing private threads, y'all. (But also bear with me. Real life and a very split party spread me thin.)

There will, at some point, be some action returning to this main thread—which of course you can all see, just please remember to keep separate player vs. character knowledge.

[Jeff]

. . . . . . .

[Jeff]

So this thread, for now, is still off-limits to most of you. Only Elvis can post here at the moment. You'll all get your turns.

Oct 11, 2019 12:52:04 GMT -4 Elvis said:

Thul gets up and makes his way through the cave towards the entrance. He continues to draw on his pipe.

The pipe smoke begins to disperse as Thul rises to his feet—feeling the creaks and joint paints he briefly forgot about. Where the smoke had been hanging in the air with nowhere to vent, it starts to dissipate as the Karrn advances towards the cave entrance. There is light coming from the cave entrance again, traces of the firelight from the main cavern. And the many-faceted walls around him grow darker as the sourceless illumination starts to fade. It's growing dark in here again.

Thul catches motion to his right and left, and realizes it's just more of his own varied reflections on the nearest columns.
And then a large humanoid shape suddenly blocks any view he might have had of the way out. Ten foot tall, and though it's mostly just a silhouette, Thul can just make out the dark blue of its skin.

 

He's also got the strong impression this is that same one he was speaking to on the ice-bridge before, and then blasted off into the water. It appears quite whole, and breathing heavily, starting back at him, massive arms hanging all the way to the ground.

Slightly shorter, a red slaad stands behind it.

[Elvis]

Fek.

"I am definitely not going to be writing that report." He says to no one.

He calmly tamps out his pipe and tucks it into his rucksack.

He keeps his axe low as he eyes the chaosfrogs.

----

Describe the surface they are standing on.

[Jeff]

Thul looks down and sees he's standing right where the ice has formed a thin glaze; by the time it reaches where the two slaadi are standing, it's a much thicker sheet. 


The icy floor is difficult terrain all squares east and northeast of Thul. No particular danger of slipping (just extra movement, per difficult terrain rules) unless someone does something particularly dicey that requires balance.

[Elvis]

Thul takes a few steps backwards until his feet are off the ice.

[Jeff]

Both slaad heads follow Thul's movement. The red one in the back twists his (its?) head to the side, but the blue one rotates his wrists so that the massive bone spur blades that protrude above the back of his hand clack down noisily on the ice. 

"Leezer," the slaad croaks, pointing with one finger back at himself. Then he points the same finger at Thul and attempts to say a word in Common, but it's very crude, almost unrecognizable. But Thul gets it. "Heeeeed." Head.

Thul is now largely off the ice.

Attachments:

[Elvis]

"I think that's the second time you've said that." Thul says to the blue chaosfrog. "Either try and take my head, or shut the fek up about it."

[Jeff]

The big blue slaad ambles a few steps forward. It's still mostly just in silhouette. "Heeeeeed," he says, and lifts both hands to his own head, miming the motion of removing it from his shoulders and thrusting it forward. "Hoooman."

Behind the blue, the red slaad looks bored. It leans down, and a long lashing tongue flits out of its mouth and starts to lick the ice on the ground.