spellbookless conrad in anemonomastics
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He remembers running away. He was a third-circle transmutation specialist at the Worldwound. Combat caster. He remembers becoming a heretic and defecting.

Yes, he died while defecting. Security got to him. He distinctly remembers it. He touches his face and body and clothes and items: they're all still intact. Except for his spellbook. Maybe it got lost, or destroyed. Losing his spellbook is...extremely painful, given that he's a wizard, but it seems that he's still alive? He's not in Pharasma's Court, in any case. He still has his shrinking greatsword +1, in its reduced form, and his ring of protection, at least. And his Chelish military uniform, which he should probably get rid of. And most importantly, his unharmed body.

Where is he?

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He sitting on cold and lightly damp leaf-litter, in the midst of what seems to be a semi-managed forest. It's daytime, with some heavy cloud-cover making it hard to tell hour. Most of the trees have dropped their leaves, though there are scattered evergreens visible through the branches. The air is a bit chilly, but certainly nothing like as cold as it should be if he were anywhere in Sarkoris. He is almost alone, but for the sounds of woodland life quiet in the background...and a strange sensation, like the feeling of a gentle breeze on the back of his neck or the whistle of wind in his ear except somehow neither tactile nor auditory, solely within his mind or perhaps his soul.

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It feels like late autumn in his hometown, Laekastel. It's definitely chilly, but being at the Worldwound for several years kind of warps your idea of what's cold and what's not. His cotton twill Chelish uniform is thicker than most clothes, but it won't keep him warm during night. He thinks about potentially trying to climb a tree to get a better view of the forest and surroundings, when the sensation hits him.

Is this what a god-vision feels like? He's prayed to Asmodeus lots, but he's never had any response. This probably won't go well for him you're allowed to have hope now.

«Hello?» he thinks without speaking. Gods can just read your mind like that. Or...peer into his soul, but either way he doubts he needs to speak for whatever entity is contacting him to understand.

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<Hello!>

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The mental voice that replies is all but identical to Conrad's own, such that it may even take him a moment to realize that the thought was not his own, but it most definitely was not.

There's a sense of serenity to it that might, if Conrad allows it, help ease any anxiety he has regarding what has happened.

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He will not allow it! Wizards learn the mental discipline and awareness necessary to detect enchantments cast on them in wizard school so that they could resist them. He's had Charm Person cast on him before. But – right, this is probably a god. You can't resist a direct divine intervention, so.

Is this how a god-vision is supposed to work? He paid attention in theology class and to the priests, but he actually doesn't know if he's feeling the correct sensations – the correct qualia. Okay. Assume the thing is a god. Presumably they can just read his thoughts and he already offended them by thinking these things but he's going to ignore that.

«May I know who You are?»

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<You may know who I am.>

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Suddenly, though not jarringly, Conrad becomes aware of several things. The entity he is communicating with is Echo, one of the four deific beings which inhabit this world (among others). He knows that he is one of its Recognizants, which itself brings a nebulous sort of understanding that calls to mind clerics, oracles, witches, and other such patronized spellcasters, though it seems to be much more limited than them in some ways and much less in others. He also knows that this world is not Golarion. Indeed it is not even any world that Conrad might happen to know of. In the language of the first local he is going to speak with, it is known as Pleroma.

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA he braces himself for the god-vision pain he was taught to expect, but there's...nothing? He takes a few steps to the side to lean against a tree.

So, he just got Recognized, which is analogous to being a cleric? And it seems that he got thrust out of the Material Plane. Perhaps even a plane outside of Pharasma's Creation – he wasn't sure that there was even anything outside it, but apparently it's possible that there are some now. Oh, and he has a new language. 

«Thank You for the knowledge You have graciously bestowed upon me, Lord Echo. May I also know the manner in which I was transported here, and why You selected for me to come Here? What would You have me do, as Your instrument?»

Presumably if Echo 'cleric-ed' him and brought him here – and are there really only four gods in this plane? having a god talk to you is definitely not the time to doubt their words – then They want him to do something for Them?

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<You may know, your world is one of interest, and you of interest within it. A story ended, a place easier to spy than most. I spoke you into this world, echo of yourself, to hear the story shaken out by your utterance.>

This is seemingly just a linguistic payload, with no additional knowledge tied to it, though there is a feeling of amusement to it.

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It's very metaphorical. Well, at least his god is bothering to speak to him in actual words, and not just feelings. Also, really? A third-circle wizard's life is interesting? Don't question it – the god's intervention is why you're alive, Conrad. He tenses when he feels the amusement behind the words.

Echo did technically answer his question, although he has no idea what 'hear the story shaken out by your utterance' is supposed to mean.

Hm. He thinks on the words for several rounds before responding. He's quite surprised he hasn't been set on fire yet, with his impudence.

«Lord Echo, You say that You spoke me into being, and that I am an echo of myself. Your humble follower begs You to restate your words, as I am much less intelligent than one such as Yourself. Is there something specific that You would have me do, in exchange for breathing life into me?»

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<You you you you are you are you are more than a third-circle wizard. You are Conrad Ferrer, and Conrad Ferrer's story can become many interesting things. I would have you live. I would have you be free. I would have you speak and listen. I would have you be Conrad Ferrer Ferrer Ferrer rer rer rer.>

Okay, that might have been a bit uncomfortable, with the odd metric stuttering.

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At this moment, if Conrad is as hypervigilant as one might expect from a man in his position, he may notice the quiet sound of footsteps crunching across the forest floor, distant but approaching. From the timbre and cadence, he can tell that it's the booted feet of a humanoid, probably medium-sized, and definitely familiar with this terrain.

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In what way? How? He wants to ask more questions, but it seems like the god is maybe having problems? They're definitely not Evil, though, which...surprising, given that he is. He knows gods can send visions to anyone, but that the cost increases the farther away they are to Them. No Evil god would just resurrect someone and ask for nothing. Well, Echo didn't ask for nothing per se – They asked him to 'be free' and 'speak and listen', which sounds Chaotic. Not that he would know Chaos – other theologies are censored in Cheliax.

He hears the noises. He doesn't have a spellbook, but does he still have his prepared spells? No. He tries to channel the energy in his arcane bonded greatsword – which is still in its dagger form – but he's lost his prepared spells too, except for his cantrips. Let's see: he has Mage Hand, Prestidigitation, Detect Magic, and Mending. None of them are combat relevant. Demons have energy resistance, so you don't bother preparing the damaging cantrips like Ray of Frost or Acid Splash, unless you're planning on using them on people.

He draws his dagger and fastens the locking gauntlet in his right hand. It would be bad if he got disarmed: he needs his arcane bonded item to cast spells (not that any of them are useful), and because it's the only weapon he has. He's not going to command the thing to return to its full size just yet, and he's going to still himself and not take any steps that would crunch the leaves and sticks on the forest floor. Maybe the person is just passing by?

«My sincerest apologies, someone is approaching.»

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<Someone is approaching, my sincerest apologies.>

The feeling of Echo's presence shrinks somewhat. It's far from gone, but perhaps it's now more like knowing someone else is in the house, while it was formerly as if someone was standing in the same room.

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The person is definitely heading pretty much directly towards Conrad, though they don't sound very hurried. In another moment, they become visible through the trees, a tall and surprisingly lightly-dressed man, heavily built with the roundness of a workman's strength, hair thin and grey and beard thick and black, and reflectively Conrad becomes visible to them. "Ho there sir! You don't look much like a camper! Are you lost?"

This is definitely not any language Conrad knew before, confirming the small feat of prediction Echo displayed earlier.

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Why is the god apologizing to them? It's...probably some fundamental aspect about the god, he thinks. They did say their name was 'Echo', after all. No time to think about that, because encounter!

He looks at the person for a few moments before relaxing his posture, bringing his left foot back near his right. He doesn't unlock his gauntlet, though, and he still has the dagger in hand.

He realizes belatedly that his red-and-black Chelish uniform is still what he's wearing, and that it is very distinctive. People don't really like the soldiers of Infernal Cheliax. But if this is a different plane, the other man might not notice it? It certainly cuts an imposing figure regardless.

Well, he's not going to just admit that he's lost, that would be weak and pathetic. His Bluff is below average for a Chelaxian, but Chelish people have different standards.

"I'm on my way to Relatchka." Which is a town name he totally did not just make up in the last round and is definitely extant in this plane.

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The man continues approaching until he's within comfortable conversation distance, though no closer, not unaware of the knife. He does scratch his beard contemplatively at that. "Not familiar, though I'm hardly a geographer. Were you with a train or are you, uh," the man gestures at Conrad's lack of luggage, "traveling light? Do you need help finding your way back to the road?"

If this man recognizes the Chellish uniform, he is an excellent liar. More likely it just looks like some kind of foreign military or diplomatic outfit.

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"Yes, I would appreciate that." He doesn't answer the question.

He unlocks his gauntlet and sheathes the dagger, and then hangs the gauntlet on a loop on his belt. He doesn't go any closer to the other person, though – he hasn't moved significantly since the encounter started.

"Do you know if there are any temples nearby?" It seems like a good proxy question to find out more about theology in this world. And whether Asmodeus has a foothold in this plane, although Echo implied that He doesn't.

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If Conrad looks like he'll follow, the man will lead him through the woods. "A temple? Not nearby no, closest I can think of would be the Four Faces down in rock-carver country. There's a cleanser's church in town and a Mother-Maker shrine at the winery house though, if you're not picky."

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Conrad will follow, keeping the distance between the two of them such that they can talk to each other, but not so close so as to seem threatening. He follows a little behind the man.

"I see," he says, affecting disinterest. "Are there any shrines to Echo nearby? Otherwise, I would like to know where the Mother-Maker's shrine is." Is Echo the name he should be using? There might be a respectful epithet he ought to use. He's not going to let that uncertainty creep into his voice, though.

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The man gives a look back at Conrad at that, one eyebrow quirked and a chuckle in his throat. "A shrine? To Echo? No. There's the echoic research facility at the far end of the valley, they might be what you're looking for if you can stomach academic types. You'll be able to find them by following the Old Road, where we're headed right now, up to the northeast. If you want to get to the winery you'll want to head the other way, down into town, then take the Vineyard Road east. I'll point you in the right direction if you don't have a compass."

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...why are you laughing?

Ah. So, it's possible that what he experienced was some sort of complex hallucination that's local to the area. Which is why they have a research facility about it. Probably a good idea to go there, although after that he needs to figure out how he's going to sleep and eat. He can survive in the wilderness with his training and cantrips, but it will be unpleasant, and he doesn't have money.

He can handle academic types. He's a wizard, so he technically is one. He originally wanted to enlist to become a Hellknight armiger, but he failed the entrance exam. So, he studied to become a wizard instead.

"I would prefer to go to the echoic research facility, yes. It is in the same direction where we're headed?" He'll follow the man all the way to the facility unless something happens, or if he asks more questions.

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"Right now we're headed to the Old Road, which is mostly west of us. If you want to walk through the forest and don't care about when you get to the facility, it's..." He takes a moment to orient himself, turns around, points off at around a 45 degree angle, "that way, roughly." He turns back around and continues. "If you want to get there sooner than next week, you'll want to take the road."

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"How far away is it?" It's going to be problematic if it will take days to walk there. If it only takes a day or perhaps two days, then he can just walk there and sleep rough, or maybe run there if it's close enough.

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"Twenty five, maybe thirty miles, but please don't tell me you're actually planning on striking out in the woods with nothing but a knife and the clothes on your back. I really don't want to have to explain to the captain how a madman, or worse, a dead one ended up in the back woods on my watch."

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