Adaa #1

[Charlotte]

Date: Olarunne the 22^nd, 998 YK

Location: Fairhaven, Aundair

Dawn broke, and Adaa knew it by the gentle change of psychic energy in the air, as mortal minds passed from the realm of Dal Quor to the waking world of Eberron.

Back in Riedra, there would be prayers on the Path of Inspiration at the site of the nearest monolith, investing themselves in its tenets on a spiritual journey from the beasts to the il-atlas. For those not of common blood, there would be psionic exercises and study of the arts of leadership and administration, in preparation for the day that they were ready to accept the divine il-atlas into themselves.

For her, there was none of that, because she'd touched the mind of the il-atlas and that was not their name – they had another name, the quori, and they had another purpose, full of hunger and seething rage and planning measured in centuries. And that was the last clear memory she had of her homeland. The rest was a blur of steerage ships and sleepless nights.

Here, half a world away, there were no Inspired and no Riedra; there was only the flickering embers of a war a century in the making and unmaking. Every mind she touched nursed some pain – some grudge against some nation, or some grief over a lost loved one, or simple numbness at the notion of an entire nation simply gone.

Adaa tried to shut such thoughts out, because today was the reopening of Fairhaven's fabled Distant Exchange. One of the most exclusive merchantile quares in all of Aundair, the one rule of the Distant Exchange is that nothing could be found locally. So traders brought wares from all over Eberron, and she hoped that somewhere in all those bits of pottery and copperpiece novels, that there would be some hint of something that would explain why what happened, did happen.

[z025]

She'd traded the finer garments and jewelry she'd been wearing when she'd fled her home for the coins of this new land; her purse was light now, but at least she'd managed food on the journey and clothes to blend in. She'd arrived at the central square of the Exchange well before the workers and merchants and walked through the winding streets of waiting bazaar. It was an idle hope that she would be able to feel out items of psychic resonance in the pre-dawn stillness, but she'd needed something to spend the empty hours doing.

Maybe I should look to a trade, she mused to herself. I'd learn quickly and could practice while others slept. I need something to earn coin or I'll be begging or worse before long. It galled that part of her that still thought as one of the Chosen that she would need to earn her keep with her hands and not on the merits of her place along the Path of Inspiration. She snorted at her own arrogance. Hunger makes us all humble.

Sounds began to drift around the Exchange as merchants and their employees set up for the grand opening of the day. Woodsmoke and a hundred different scents swirled through the air as breakfasts were made to fortify the traders for the long day ahead. Adaa fished out the heel of bread and wedge of cheese she'd saved from last night's dinner; the meal was cold, but the stirring of the bazaar lifted her hopes of finding a answer to what she had become.

[Charlotte]

The traders were loud and boisterous and the square was chaotic. Someone was selling sausages made fresh over a portable firepit that smelled like burnt flesh, and incredibly, had a lengthly line of people hungry for a sample. Two people in the line were having a heated argument over whether or not a sausage in a bun was a sandwich.

Not far away, a trader with a friendly face was hanging up some rugs and tapestries that Adaa instantly recognized as Sarlonian – some Riedran, a few Syrkarnian, and even a couple of the rare standards of Adar, which Adaa recognized as the symbol of the enemy.

The trader – and a closer look revealed her to be a shifter – nodded at Adaa. "Howdy." Her accent was strange, coming from a shifter's mouth, and had the twang of a native of the Eldeen Reaches. "Dang happy to be back in business. Just got some new stock, too. You in the market?"

[z025]

"Where did you acquire these?" Adaa asked carefully, her words canted to sound more like what she'd heard from the natives of Khorvaire. It wasn't perfect, but hopefully it would muddle her point of origin enough to keep the merchant talking. "They are very beautiful."

Rugs and tapestries weren't what she needed, but contacts were. If the merchant could get goods from Sarlona, then either she travelled far, far more than most, or she knew of former Sarlonians now living on Khorvaire. The latter might be exactly what she needed. She almost said a prayer to the il-atlas for guidance and luck, then remembered herself and tried not to scowl. She had to relearn how to think because of the lies of the thrice-damned quori. 

[Charlotte]

"Ah, well: these are local tapestries, actually. But shhh, don't tell anyone. Not even technically breaking the rules, since the kallies – ah, sorry, the kalashtar that I bought 'em off of brought them with them on the boats. Nice people, but dang, that food they cook smells. But they gave me a good price. They sure are in a hurry to leave. Something about evil spirits of whatever, I dunno. I'm a Sovereign Host lady myself, so I figure if this il-mnenos or whatever is for real I'll just get my sinnin' ass to church."

Adaa barely heard anything after the word il-mnemos, because she knew what it meant. It was considered a Riedran legend, but she knew, thanks to her advanced education, that it was very real. Il-mnemos, in the tounge of Khorvaire, translated into mnemovore, the memory eater.

If one was somehow loose here, in Olarunne, it would not have a high bodycount – but the toll it would extract from its victims would be high indeed. It liked to save the victim's self-awareness for last, to enrich the flavor; the victim would be aware, to the very end, of how many memories they had lost.

[z025]

I can't let that happen. Having faced what should have been her own loss of self, she couldn't imagine just abandoning others to the same fate when she might be able to help. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and a plunge into the dangerous. "Are they still here?" she asked. "Th-the kalashtar? I would speak with them." 

Her nervousness threaded her natural accent back into her words, but she stood resolute. 

[Charlotte]

"You sure? I mean, they're nice people, but they talk real funny, and they are really, really dang weird - "

The merchant paused, looking over Adaa's features, and slowly realizing that they had a lot in common with the so-called "kallies." Adaa knew that there was not much to be done about hiding them - she had little in common with the kalashtar when it came to the contents of her soul, but outwardly they couldn't help but be from the same nation, with the same general mix of features.

So the merchant, in the interest of diplomacy, changed tracks. "Yeah, they're still around. Here, I'll give ya a map."

One piece of parchment - and a lengthly haggling over its price - later, Adaa found herself with a crude (very crude) map of Fairhaven, with an arrow drawn down several streets and back alleys, leading to a small district tucked in the corner with a circle drawn around it. "Now, they typically don't have an open place of community and worship – I dunno why, they act real paranoid when you ask 'bout their religion at all – but a little birdie tells me that in the back of those clothing shop here there is a lot of empty space. And if I was gonna have a community hall without tellin' anyone I had a community hall, well. That's where I'd put it. Now remember, final sale means exactly that. If they want their tabards back they can dang well pay me for my time."

 

[z025]

She nodded and swallowed, her fingers tight on the scrap of parchment. "Thank you," she said almost numbly to the merchant and made a retreat from the stall.

I can do this, she kept repeating to herself as she navigated the winding streets and the poorly made map. I can talk to them. I can...I can help. Someone. If I can't save everyone back home, at least I can save someone here. Her throat was dry by the time she got near and her heart thumped loud and fast in her ears. I can do this. She rounded the the clothing and textiles shops, calling out, "H-hello?" as stepped into the open area in back.

 

[Charlotte]

The area was mostly empty, with a few boxes and spare bits of wood lying around. There were outlines on the wall from where the banners that she’d seen had been removed.

Sweeping the floor, in the middle of the room, was a kalashtar – they were very similar to the humans of Riedra, but she could tell the difference without even trying. It was the eyes with two souls looking through them. A giveaway, of you knew what to look for.

The kalashtar was an older man, bald and clad in the simple unobtrusive light brown smock that many refugees from the war wore, with no money to dye them. At hearing her voice, the man looked up, regarding her.

“Welcome, friend. I don’t recognize you. Are you new to Fairhaven, then? I am Venn Malharath. If you are here for our ceremonies, I fear they’ve been put on hold as we are in the middle of some difficulties.”

[z025]

She straitened, using the move to gather her courage again as well. She clutched at the parchment that had lead her there and finally dared to look him back in the eyes. 

"M-my name is Adaa. I was speaking to the merchant you sold the tapestries to and I, I want to help. With the il-mnemos. Before it..." Her words trailed off, her throat drying up. They would know what it was and what it would take from its victims.  

[Charlotte]

"Interesting. I did not think that anyone in this material city knew of the il-mnemos. It's uncommon knowledge even amongst most of our people…"

Venn trailed off as three kalashtar entered. One of them saw her and immediately went into a fighting stance, and Adaa could feel the faint psionic static of psionic force swords preparing to manifest. The other two were less aggressive, but not by much. One of them stepped forward.

"Welcome, Carn Sinkhad. We have a guest. Why are you so hostile?"

"A – a guest?" The kalashtar named Carn seemed gobsmacked. "Venn, this is an Inspired! She has no oversoul!"

For a moment, Adaa was puzzled, and then she remembered that some kalashtar called the spirit line that they were descended from an 'oversoul' – the soul of the quoi within them, divided evenly amongst all kalashtar of that bloodline, diluted through the centuries.

"She doesn't? Hmm. I hadn't noticed."

"Leave, Inspired, or we will be forced to – "

"Carn, she is my guest. I invoke hospitality." Venn set his broom aside. "And West, there are no children around that will be impressed with you manifesting your big glowing soulknife. Sheathe it within your soul, and I will prepare the one meal due any who are extended hospitality. And we will listen to her, because she comes with a desire to save a soul."

"So she says." Carn sniffed dismissively. "She's probably leading the rest of her forces to attack us."

"Then we will do what we always do: leave, and fight our battle on a field we choose. If she's lying, I will take exile alongside of her." Venn regarded Adaa. "I have a feeling about this one. Now, Adaa. Come help me steam the rice. The boiler acts up. It is, metaphorically speaking, a big lump of donkey shit."

[z025]

Adaa had never prepared a meal before - it had not been her place in Reidra to do so and in the haste of her flight she'd either eaten prepared meals or cold ones. Venn was patient with her, teaching her each step of the process and seemingly unconcerned by the prospect of impending exile from his own people. The boiler raised more of his ire than she did and she found herself smiling at his antics despite the dire undertones of the situation. A simple table was set and the meal laid out for the five of them. They ate in silence, but after a few moments Adaa thought perhaps that was more normal for them than a reaction to her presence. She might have preferred conversation, even if she'd been excluded from it - it would have distracted her from her fears and whirlwind thoughts. 

Venn laid his empty bowl on the table, and the others quickly followed suit. "Now, Adaa, tell us how you came to know of the il-mnemos." His tone made it clear he wasn't speaking of just the one in the city. 

Her heart thudded in her chest and breath caught on the edge of her words, but she spoke anyways. "Carn Sinkhad is correct." The younger kalashtar's head snapped up, but before he could move to stand, Venn held up a hand and motioned for Adaa to continue. "I was raised as one of the Chosen and then I was selected to become Inspired. I learned of il-mnemos in my studies. Th-they lied to us." Her words crumbled at the edges, the pain and horror of the past several weeks finally catching up with her and find outlet among these strangers. "Are lying to everyone I know. Everyone I've ever cared about. They're stealing our bodies, destroying our minds." She shuddered and felt wet drops fall on her hands; old training, ingrained since childhood, kept her from acknowledging the tears. "That is what should have happened to me, but somehow it did not. The al-" 

She stopped, unwilling to say the false name, and began again with, "It couldn't control me. Can't control me. I don't know why, but it is trapped and I no longer dream and I fled Sarlona because the rest of them would have executed me the moment they figured out that I wasn't one of them." Another deep breath and she was able to restore her calm. "That is why I am in Khorvaire, and when I came here I heard of the il-mnemos. It is a cruel fate to experience and even crueller to simply allow the ignorant to suffer in its grasp. So, I want to help."

[Charlotte]

The table was silent for long moments, while Venn mused quietly. Then Venn spoke.

"I'll tell you of Citadel Adar.

"Eighteen hundred years ago, before the nation we live in even existed, there were the original sixty-seven quori, who were like the one that attempted to take your body and soul, and yet unlike it in all the ways that mattered. They carried religious and philosophical differences that are too numberous to enumerate here, but that were enough that the other quori sought to imprison them or destroy them. But via their leader, Taratai, they found a way into Eberron, and contacted the dreams of the monks of the temples of Adar, seeking refuge in the souls of mortals.

"And this is the important part of the tale: the monks accepted. Even knowing they would be changed forevermore, and even knowing that they would never know privacy again, they accepted these quori into themselves, because 'Adar' means 'sanctuary' in ancient Sarlonian, and it was the rule of the temples that no soul seeking refuge that had made the journey shall be turned away. And we owe our very existence as the kalashtar, the wandering dreams, to that fateful decision to accept sanctuary."

"And you think that as a result of this, we should let the Inspired walk in our front door." Carn frowned, clearly displeased.

"The temples of Adar are now Citadel Adar, it is true, and they are isolated and well guarded for a reason, and a good one. But we are not in Adar. We are in Fairhaven, and we walk in a land that has suffered so, and in that suffering there is opportunity for threats to gain a foothold that the people of this land barely comprehend. Perhaps now is not the time or place for closed doors. I think that the time to offer sanctuary is upon us once again."

Venn gathered up the dishes and the cups. "Adaa… interesting name. Adaa, most Inspired have notable psychic abilities, as do many kalashtar. But your condition is unique, and I have a feeling that what we call 'formidable' may be child's play to you. Show me what you can do, so that we can plan our attack against the il-mnemos with care. Demonstrate on me, if you must. Don't worry, if you threaten me, I'm sure West will let you know what a poor idea that is quickly.

[z025]

She nodded, then frowned. "I could show you some of what I was trained to do, but there is other that is only threatening or damaging. I could link our minds and show you what I was taught and what more I have found I can do now, if that would be acceptable?" 

She glanced around the room, adding, "I can link us all, if the rest of you wish to see as well." 

She linked the minds of all those will, then shared her memories both of her childhood training as one of the Chosen and her flight from Sarlona once she knew the truth of the Inspired. While young, she had spent every morning learning to hone her psychic abilities, while her afternoons were spent learning diplomacy and all the skills necessary to lead on the Path of Inspiration. Being selected to become Inspired had been one of the proudest moments of her life; it was proof that even as a child she had walked the Path correctly and purified herself to reach a new state of enlightenment. She shied away from the memories of the actual ceremony and dawning horror of what was happening to her. It was both to keep from inflicting her own emotional wounds on the minds tied to her and because she simply wasn't ready to relive those moments herself. The weeks after, as she broke from her family and fled the only place she had ever known, where a blur of fear and desperation, but her dire straits also gave her ample reason to pull on the greater power within her now.

They felt the exhileration of flying high above the land as she left Reidra to find a port to take her across the sea. The ship she found, a large trade vessel laden with "exotic" goods from Sarlona to sell in Khorvaire, took most the coin she'd managed to take with her, but she'd had a safe berth for the journey - and more importantly, a private one where no one could see that she had ceased to sleep. The captain was an honest woman, and her crew well disciplined and well aware of the consequences of bad form. The trip was long and far from quiet - storms were expected, but several large sea monsters also made a bid to sink the vessel. She used her powers again, both to keep sailors safely on the vessel and to drive off the beasts with painful psychic blasts. The captain suspected something strange aboard his ship, but since it seemed benign to crew and merchandise, he never looked too deeply into the matter. As she made her way on land, she used her skills lightly, but enough to find safe places to sleep in settlements and honest people to purchase the little she could afford to buy. 

The memories melted away, leaving the group sitting in the simple room again. The link between them was still active; Adaa waited patiently for their reactions.

[Charlotte]

"They have the ring of truth to them," said West, a little awed.

"Why didn't you show us the ceremony itself? What do you have to hide?" Carn, distrusting as ever, seemed somewhat unconvinced.

"I imagine, friend Carn, that she doesn't wish to traumatize us with what she felt." Venn put a gentle hand on Adaa's shoulder. "Adaa, if you're willing, we can show you the dwelling of the man that is being attacked by il-mnemos right now, if you wish. But a word of warning: the il-mnemos not only can sense our oversouls, our spirit-lines, but it proves an irresistible temptation for its appetites. This is why we chose to flee, because we are the guardians of these spirit lines, and they have already lost so much. A difficult decision, I assure you, but a necessary one. But you..."

"You have no oversoul. Yes." Carn nodded. "And you're psychic enough to attack it within the man's mind. Perhaps I misjudged you. Perhaps..."

"You were wrong?" Venn winked.

Carn huffed. "I prefer the term 'briefly incorrect.' With you at our side, we could lure it away from the man, then you could strike unexpected, either within the man's mind or within ours. Unless you have a better idea?"

[The Story Guide]

Adaa let the link fade gently, leaving them each alone in their minds again as they spoke. She hid a smile at 'briefly incorrect', reminded of her older brother. He couldn't bear to admit a failing either, always spinning the situation to some more pleasant viewpoint. He'd been passed over to become Inspired; at the time, the family had quietly mourned that with him. Now, it gave Adaa hope. 

"Could we lure it into my mind?" Adaa asked. "That way the man that is already suffering can be spared any trauma from this battle." And if I'm lost...well, that's less of loss than someone that isn't cursed like me.

[Charlotte]

Carn stroked his chin. "It could work… and battling inside of your own mind would give you an advantage, if you're properly trained. But there is a risk: you'd have to offer it a sufficiently tempting memory, that it would risk the jump. You don't have an oversoul, so it won't suspect you're psychic, but there is a very good chance that whatever memory you're offering up would be consumed."

"A weighty risk," nodded Venn grimly. "It's not something to take lightly. If the il-mnemos takes from you your memory of being psychic, you won't even know how to defend yourself."

[z025]

"That is a risk I am willing to take," she said resolutely. She considered for several minutes, then asked, "What kind of memory would be tempting to it? Is it drawn to high emotions or something else that I can focus on for the best chance to snare it?"

[Charlotte]

"Something cherished," said Carn firmly. "Something cherished, and also, something that you wouldn’t notice is gone unless it was pointed out to you, because it attacks with subtlety at first. And that is the trick. If we found such a memory, the more you thought about it, the less appealing it would be. So – without thinking too hard – what memory do you have, that would be ideal for the task?"

[z025]

The answer came swiftly, though it made her gut clench to consider losing such a memory. "The look on my father's face when we were told I had been selected to become Inspired." 

Her father had always placed his children first, doing everything in his power to ensure that they were pure enough and good enough to raise themselves up the path of Inspiration. Her elder brother's failure hadn't diminished their father's love for him, but instead he had blamed himself, felt that his son's rejection was because of a parenting flaw. To hear that Adaa was free of any blemish, prepared to take her place among the Inspired, was validation of his life's work. She hadn't dwelt on the memory since her flight from Sarlona - it had been one of the greatest moments of her life and she hadn't wanted to taint the recollection with the knowledge of what had actually happened to her - and to any selected to be Inspired. It was both a treasured memory and one held at bay by the complex tangle of emotions that surrounded her life now.

[Charlotte]

“Hmph.” Carn sniffed dismissively. “No honor in slavery and then obliteration…”

“And she knows that.” Venn held up a hand. “Speak no more of it and focus on other matters, since the more you think of it, the less likely it will attack you via that route. Discipline your thoughts, and let us away. The victim of the il-mnemos is not far from here, fifteen minutes by your measurement of time.”

“Agreed. Let us depart.” Carn stood, as did Venn and West. As one, the group departed.

They wound their way through the streets, and Adaa was struck anew by how different everything seemed when no one knew your face, your name, or that they were supposed to not look directly at your face for fear that your beauty would destroy their souls. She walked in humility instead, and a part of her – a little stubbornly proud part – wanted that back.

But that part of her life was connected to all those other parts of her life, parts that she had left behind. So walk with humility she did.

They arrived at what was not a house, but a library – a massive public library, and Adaa remembered again that in Khorvaire literacy was more common and the notion of a public library was extant. But it looked in a state of advanced disrepair, having been neglected by a hundred years of war draining all funding elsewhere, and there were few others present.

[z025]

It seemed a sad place to her. This was a library unattended by scholars or rulers, unused for its purpose. Of everything she had seen of Khorvaire, it was that nature of waste that seemed the only truth she learned of the greater world in her upbringing. It wasn't done with the maliciousness she'd been lead to expect, but through a sheer lack of coordination by the peoples of this land. They did not know their places and work for the betterment of all, and so places like this came to be: neglected, forgotten, and too often the nesting ground of illness of body and spirit. Will I ever be able to untangle what is good and should be kept and what is evil, done to make us slaves to the quori?

She shook her head, dispelling her maisma of thoughts. This wasn't the time and the man inside needed her full attention if this attack was to succeed and leave him any part of himself. She looked to Venn. "What do I do now?"

 

[Charlotte]

“We enter. The librarian lives in the back. We will be ready to enter the room and link minds with you once the trap is sprung, but we must maintain our distance for now, or else it will come for us. Good luck, Adaa.” Carn gave her an approving nod.

“You know… Adaa is not far from Adar, and in the original translation – “

“Another time, perhaps, Venn.”

“But perhaps there won’t be another time, if we are honest with ourselves. I’ve no idea what it means in modern Riedran, but in ancient, ancient tongues rarely spoken, Adaa was a companion of sorts to the word Adar. Adar mean ‘sanctuary.’ And Adaa meant ‘salvation.’”

“Names and nothing more. Language obfuscates; the mind is pure, and no name summarizes it in full.”

“Perhaps, Carn, perhaps. Perhaps all those magical traditions about the meaning of names are a bunch of hogspit and we’ve got everything right by our reckoning of psionics. Of course. Forgive me. Go, Adaa. You’re needed.”

[z025]

She stepped into the library with butterflies in her stomach - and the library seemed to understand, if the population of moths was anything to go by. She moved through the forlorn stacks of books as silently as possible. She heard the murmuring shuffle of the few patrons of the library and hoped that the battle about to commence did not spill over to disturb them. She made her way towards the living quarters in the back and the fight ahead.

[Charlotte]

In the back, holding a book on the history of the Undying Court, was the librarian. He was staring at it blankly, barely hearing her approach. When he did hear her, he looked up, looking older than he clearly was, and lost.

“Forgive me. I’m sorry. My mind wandered and I forgot where I was supposed to put this. Did you need help…?”

This close, Adaa could feel, even without pushing into his mind, the il-mnemos crawling around inside. She didn’t know if it had noticed her yet or not.

[z025]

Adaa smiled, wrestling down the quivers of nervousness in her gut. "My pardon, sir. I was looking for a treatise on the history of Khorvaire and was told this library would be a good place to look. Would you be able to assist me?"

She'd lowered her mental defenses before entering the library and now kept her surface thoughts simple and innocent, thinking on the little she new of Khorviare and her love of learning. Those thoughts touched on the same feelings of home and family of their bait-memory; hopefully the il-mnemos would strike soon and they could finish this without involving anyone else. 

[Charlotte]

"The history of Khorvaire! My, you might have to narrow it down a bit. We have books on Cyre, on Aundair, on Thrane and Breland..."

He made a face at the last name, and Adaa felt a flicker of loss. Like so many others, the librarian had lost someone in the war. "And of course, there's... it's on the tip of my tongue. The one with the... oh, what is it called..."

Inside of the man's mind, the il-mnemos stopped in the middle of eroding the foundations of memories of a favorite book - a gothic romance from one of Karnnath's  cherished authors - and it turned its attentions to her. She could feel the beast's equivalent of feelers looking for her.

[z025]

"Karrnath?" Adaa prompted gently. She layered her thoughts, trying to walk the line between attractive enough to the il-mnemos and so attractive it would suspect the trap. "Well, we're in Aundair, so why don't we start there?"

[Charlotte]

"Yes! Yes. Karrnath. And yes. I have quite a selection of books on Aundair..."

Adaa was only partly paying attention, as on the psychic plane, the thought-eater gathered its strength, and leapt between minds. She felt it land in hers, and felt a shudder of revulsion as it sniffed out the memory she'd carefully offered up...

And then the door swung shut behind the creature. It roared with a psychic noise that filled her thoughts, and the battle was on.

So despite this being astral combat, using regular combat rules will work just fine. Its initiative is:

Initiative roll.: 1D20+2 = [1]+2 = 3

So Adaa's initiative automatically beats it, and she gets to go first.

[z025]

Outwardly, Adaa only paled as the trap swung shut. "Thank you, sir, but I'm afraid I'm not feeling so well. May I come back another day?"

"Hrm?" The man was still dazed, but at least there was no more further damage bing done to him. "Oh, yes, yes, of course, young lady. Shall I walk you out?"

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Adaa said. She bowed her head in thanks and made her way quickly back out from the library. Inside her mind, the il-mnemos fought to escape the memory that was now a prison. Adaa focused her mind, closing off as much of her memory as she could while still staying functional. Hopefully the kalashtar outside would be able to help her and not leave her to become a hollow husk. How strangely life twists. . .

 

Mental Blast

Mental Blast: Damage 3 (DC Will 18)

 

[Charlotte]

 

 

Il-Mnemos Will Save (DC 18): 1D20+6 = [6]+6 = 12

 

Failed by 6; it's at -1 to further saves against this attack.[/spoiler]

The beasts roared, and Adaa could feel its formless nature take on the shape of (smell of honey) as it tried to disperse, attacking her with a hundred tiny nibbles at her core instead of one big one.

il-mnemos psychic attack: 1D20+5 = [19]+5 = 24

That's a hit against Adaa's Parry, so Adaa needs to make a Will save against DC20; failure by 1-5 is dazed, 6-10 is stunned, and over 10 renders her unconscious.

[z025]

Mechanics

Roll(1d20)+0:
12,+0
Total:12 Will save is a success! 
Will 10 + Roll 12 = 22 
Mental Blast again, DC 18, il-mnemos is at a -1. 

Adaa stumbled towards the door of the library, wincing at the mental attack of the spirit. A few heads popped up over books when she ran into the edge of one of the stacks, but so far no one was trying to stop her or lend her a hand. I can make it. Just a little bit farther. Just a little bit farther.

[Charlotte]

 

 

Will Save (DC 18): 1D20+6-1 = [17]+6-1 = 22

That's a success; it takes no damage.

As Adaa stumbled towards the door, she struck back against the monster, but it dispersed with the scent of pine needles. Then it reformed, attacking her with (smell of ocean air) and Adaa tried to raise her guard against it - but the smell of the air reminded her too much of her journey and the isolation she felt, and it seized on that, on the fact that she was alone...

 

il-mnemos Attack roll (Resisted by Parry; DC 23 Toughness): 1D20+8 = [6]+8 = 14

Normally that'd be enough to get past her parry of 13 (that I have recorded,) but Adaa is lent a hand...

... but then the door was thrown over, and Carn - distrustful Carn, scornful Carn - he was the first one through. He locked eyes with her, and grabbed her head gently, and the il-mnemos was deflected just in time. The smell of sea air faded, because she was not alone.

"West! Venn! Quickly! It's locked inside her mind."

"But our oversouls - " West began.

Venn made a grunting sound. "She's got it bottled up. The door's one way. Quickly."

Nodding, West began to prepare to add his strength to Carn's. Venn hung back, oddly enough...

[z025]

She bore down on it with all her will, knowing that she would either succeed or become a drooling husk and leave others at the untender mercy of the memory-eater. Feeling the strength of others around her, she lashed out at the spirit again. I haven't come this far to be taken down by a phantom-chasing spirit of forgetfulness! The Path of Inspiration might be a evil lie to dupe us in Sarlona, but there is truth there. I am strong, stronger than this thing!

 

  Reveal hidden contents

Mental Blast again. DC 18, is the creature still at a -1?

[Charlotte]

 

 

Il-Mnemos Will Save (DC 18): 1D20+6-1 = [20]+6-1 = 25

It is still at -1; but it lucked out.

Through a combination of fear and rage, it avoided Adaa's counterattack, and attacked again with (stillness of the blossoms in fall.)

 

il-mnemos Attack roll (Resisted by Parry; DC 23 Toughness): 1D20+8 = [4]+8 = 12

That's a miss. Currently, due to the kalashtar boosting your defenses, you have +2 to all your defenses with regards to this battle.

[z025]

She bore down again, opening her eyes just enough to see the three kalashtar around her. She saw Venn, holding back away from them. She couldn't get out words, but she held her hand out, pleading for help. 

Mechanics

DC 18 Mental Blast attack...

 

[Charlotte]

 

Il-Mnemos Will Save (DC 18): 1D20+6-1 = [7]+6-1 = 12

It fails by 6; it takes a -2 to its rolls now, and is dazed.

It howls as it was struck by (contemplating the void,) thrashing around inside of Adaa's mind. Then it reared back to strike, and then...

Then it hit a wall.

Adaa had no idea where the wall had come from, or even what the wall was, at first. She touched it with her mind, and realized that it was not so much a wall, as a mind - or a portion of one - interposed between she and the il-mnemos. It felt solid in a way she'd never encountered, not even with her brush against the quori, and then Adaa realize that it wasn't dense - it was just big.

It was Venn. Comparing his mind to the others was like comparing an ocean to a river. He had no oversoul - no spirit line preserving a refugee from Dal Quor - and was plainly not a kalashtar. And he was wounded - his psyche scarred and burnt, as if by an attack so terrible she could scarcely contemplate it - which is why she could already feel the il-mnemos sniffing her out again, through the cracks in the wall...

Quote

Thanks to the intervention of Venn, the il-mnemos doesn't attack this turn. Adaa may go again - she can sense its approach, but she gets to attack first.

[The Story Guide]

What is he? The thought flittered through her mind, Could he help, with me, with Sarlona? She pushed the thoughts aside. This battle was not that war and it had to be won first. She focused her attack at the points of the il-mnemos poking through the cracks of Venn's wall. You won't hurt anyone else!

Mechanics

DC 18 Mental Blast Attack

 

[Charlotte]

Spoiler

Il-Mnemos Will Save (DC 18): 1D20+6-2 = [1]+6-2 = 5

Failed by 12; the creature is now at -3, and is staggered. If it misses by three degrees again, it's toast.

 

The astral equivalent of vital fluids, each evoking the scent of a stroll through the marketplace around dinnertime, emenated from its psychic wounds. It thrashed about, and Adaa felt, more than heard, the thoughts of Venn - or whatever Venn was.

BE BRAVE, ADAA. BE STRONG. IT WILL NOT EAT ANOTHER CHILDHOOD MEMORY; IT WILL NOT CONSUME ONE MORE THOUGHT OF A LOVED ONE LOST TO POINTLESS WAR. I AM NOT SKILLED ENOUGH IN PSYCHIC COMBAT TO DEFEAT IT, BUT YOU ARE. YOU CAN STOP IT. YOU CAN SAVE THEM.

Then the creature locked onto her, and attacked, reduced to little more than blind fury...

Spoiler

il-mnemos Psychic Attack (Will save vs. Damage DC20): 1D20+5 = [1]+5 = 6

It misses!

 

[z025]

She wanted to stop and wonder at Venn, but there wasn't time for that - the time he was giving her needed to be used to defeat the malignant spirit. She could aske questions later. Later would happen, thanks to him.

  Reveal hidden contents

DC 18 Mental Blast Attack