Story HourPost your ongoing tales from your campaigns, and read those from others for inspiration. Lots of other RPG boards post "Story Hours", but this is where it started!
And things go just about as well as you might expect.
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Interesting how the party has been quick to replace their trust in Ahlear with Noxin even though technically the party has known both of them a collective 1 month's time.
Yep. It's the big PC tattoo on their foreheads that turns folks' hearts, I'm sure.
But Ahlear's status as an undead did not endear him to any of the characters. So much so, in fact, that he's not long with our intrepid group. And Noxin's just a big, dumb galoot. I don't think he's capable of guile.
And ultimately the lack of options plays a big part in drawing Noxin into the party's trust.
"Ohhh... unpredictable..." Morier deadpanned. "Sounds fun." The expression on his face made it clear that he truly felt it would be anything but.
"Why is nothing ever easy?" Huzair grumbled under his breath. Noxin scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Maybe we could bring her some flowers... or a bunny. You know, to remind her of nature," he suggested. "It always cheered up me Mum." For a second, Huzair just looked at him, but then he laughed out loud.
"Now that's funny!" the wizard told him, clapping the half-giant on the back. Noxin shrugged.
"It was just a suggestion," he grinned, clearly not seeing the humor that Huzair did.
"So we must do battle with Dridana's essence?" Ahlear rasped, ignoring the foolishness.
"No, foul one!" Histah said. "You cannot battle what doesss not exissst! The demiurge isss an echo of Dridana... a memory fueled by the energiesss sssurrounding Dridana'sss Heart. She cannot be harmed by you. Nor can she harm you directly."
"So why'd you say there was danger?" Huzair asked.
"The demiurge hasss complete control over the environment inssside the prissson," the snake explained. "She will find waysss to harm you that do not require direct contact."
"Terrific," Morier sighed.
"So what can we expect to find in this prison?" Shamalin asked. "Are there actual bars and locked doors?" Histah chuckled.
"No, the prissson isss a mountaintop, plucked from thisss world and hurled into a pocket within the void," the serpent told her. "That isss her prissson, exisssting apart from the natural world, unreachable but by my power."
Later, after Huzair and Noxin had briefly gone topside to retrieve Sparky only to discover that the giants had moved out north shortly after sundown, the group made a small camp and readied themselves for sleep.
"I wonder what we should do with Anania's necklace," Huzair said, indicating the magical chain. "I would like to examine it before I go to sleep. It may come in useful to inform Lord Hofralix of what is going on."
"We do not owe Hofralix any further information," Shamalin said, covering the necklace with her cloak and putting a hand protectively atop it. "And he does not strike me as an ally."
"Anania was an ally and she was an agent of Lord Hofralix," the wizard countered, his eyes never leaving the spot where the device was hidden. "Does that not mean he or it is our ally as well? Perhaps he can help us still some how."
"We need to destroy it," the cleric said simply. "It's too dangerous."
"What harm can come from taking it with us?" Huzair asked, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "If I kept it in my bag, I could let him know only what I wanted to tell him.
"No, Huzair!" Shamalin insisted and Morier could see that Huzair wasn't going to give up the argument easily. He also recognized the similarities between this discussion and the one that they'd had with Ayremac over the samsara sword. With visions in his head of Shamalin leaving the group, the albino stepped forward.
"Let's put off the decision 'til the morning," he suggested. "We'll discuss what to do before Histah opens the gate."
"What's with the beady little eyes, Shamalin?" Noxin asked, peering over the cleric's shoulder to where she had Anania's necklace hidden. She looked up into the big man's curious face and shifted awkwardly so that he wasn't towering over her.
"It's a... means of communication," Shamalin told him. "Anania was an agent of Lord Hofralix, and this necklace allowed her to send him updates on our progress from time to time."
"And that's bad?" the half-giant asked, trying to piece together the information that he had and finding the picture incomplete. Shamalin nodded.
"There was something unnatural about Hofralix and his city," the Mercybringer told him and Huzair laughed outloud at that.
"Unnatural?" he snorted. "I should say so! He was a beholder, for Nethlar's sake!" Noxin's jaw dropped open at that revelation and he turned to look at the elf maid's draped corpse.
"Right," Shamalin continued. "And now we are about to try to release the god of nature. I don't think we owe Hofralix any more information. And I can't imagine him sending along reinforcements on our behalf. He may already know too much about the swords." Noxin scratched his head, the mental struggle of putting all this information together showing plainly on his face.
"I don't trust Hofralix, either, Shamalin," Morier put in. "But I don't distrust him so much that I'm willing to take a strong stance on the necklace. If we keep it and keep it under cover and under wraps, as Huzair's suggested, I'm okay with having it until we have reason to get rid of it." Shamalin grimaced, her hand tightening on the necklace hidden beneath her cloak.
"I think it would be a very bad idea to take this necklace through the gate," she said, simply.
"Well, I have never been a fan of silent partners, I'll tell you... but I never met this Horlafax, so I guess I can't help much," Noxin stated with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Morier glance up at him and nodded once.
"It might prove useful and I don't think we're in a position to throw away anything that could provide assistance," the albino said to Shamalin. "And in that same regard, I think it's critical that each of us who have them be in control of our elemental blades as we go forward. It will be important for each of the blades' wielders to be familiar with what each is capable of so that we can think quickly and use its powers to the fullest extent."
"On what assumptions do you base this opinion?" Ahlear asked, stepping out of the nearby shadows. "What makes you think a single blade needs to be with each person?" Morier sighed and did not look up at the mummy.
"The four elemental weapons we possess are the four "keys" that we need to reunite Dridana's heart and body," the eldritch warrior explained, his hand was unconsciously rubbing at the spot on his chest where the strange black tattoo marked him as linked to the mummy. "I don't think keeping it hidden away and just saying, 'there, we have it' is going to do us any good... I think it will need to be used and we won't know when that time will come. So someone needs to be wielding it when it does."
"I think we have to weigh the advantages of keeping the fourth sword 'safe' in Huzair's Haversack against the strategic advantages that someone wielding the sword and its powers gives us," Shamalin offered, and it was clear from her body language that when she said 'someone' she meant Noxin. "It certainly makes more sense to me that someone use the sword and all its abilities as we enter these tests. Carrying it this far was a different story. Putting it in Huzair's bag then made more sense. Now it has to be used." There were nods all around... mostly.
"Using them and wielding them are two different things," Ahlear scoffed. "Having the item sheathed whilst in your possession should be enough to keep it near to hand for when you actually need it properly to free the heart. I think that whoever it is that guards the prison of the heart, will not be fooled by some mere mundane sheaths. The creature will sense the keys anyway."
"Is this just because we want to give Windblade to Noxin and not you?" Huzair asked and Ahlear shook his head quickly.
"I have already declined the offer of the blade once. I do not feel I have earned such a right," the mummy assured him. "But I do disagree that Noxin should get hold of one so fast for the same reason. He has done nothing to earn the party's trust yet. And he has been with the party itself for only a few hours now..." Ahlear looked up at Noxin and the half-giant flashed him a smile. Morier sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"Do we trust Noxin enough to give it to him? That may be questionable," the albino amitted. "Do we have a better option? I certainly don't see one."
"If Noxin and Ahlear, the mummy, are both willing to come with us through the gate, with the intent to help free Dridana, then I think they also have to be considered worthy of a sword," Shamalin said, looking at the two candidates. They could hardly have been more different: Noxin was huge, fairly bursting with vitality; Ahlear was the withered embodiment of death itself.
"We don't have the time and I don't have the energy to debate this all night long," Morier sighed, walking over to the newcomer. "Noxin, if you will pledge yourself to follow our cause, we would gladly have your might alongside our own. You are more than welcome to your share of whatever treasure awaits our success - it stands to be rather large, I believe - and if you so desire, you may have a cut of mine. Treasure is not why I walk this path. One of us must wield Windblade through the coming tests, and you seem most well-fit to do that."
"I'm always lookin' for a nice tussle," the half-giant said gravely. Then smiling again he added, "Treasure's not bad either."
"Give it to me," Morier said to Huzair, holding out his hand. The mage gave it to him and Morier in turn handed Windblade to Noxin, cautioning, "Misuse it and I will let Huzair set your testicles on fire while you sleep."
"Do not imagine I would not do it either," the wizard said, causing with a word flames to dance on his fingertips. The half-giant looked disdainfully at the mage's display.
"You're gonna need a bigger fire," Noxin grinned, flicking his eyes meaningfully at his groin. Huzair looked at him incredulous for a moment and then a laugh burst from his lips.
After tending to Anania as best she could, Shamalin spent time reviewing Ledare's journal and other writings for any clues that might help them. She found some notes that purported to be the actual words of an angel that had visited Ledare and the others in a town called Hillsville Junction. They read:
'After her forces were defeated and her son locked away,
the goddess of decay and disease ripped the living heart
from the goddess of things that grow in the earth. Aphyx bound
Dridana's essence to a red gemstone and secreted it away so that
her spark could not be reborn into a new godform. For the
Queen of Rot knew that the Fruitful One would always oppose her
and thus has Brogine's twin languished since the Age of Pestilence."
And then, pondering this information, she rested.
Waterday, the 16th of Readying, 1270 AE
The early morning light drifted feebly through the portal that lead by a steep climb upward to the surface. Dust motes twirled silently through the air, reflecting the light and lending the hall an eerie otherworldly quality. A shadow suddenly blocked the light coming in and a few moments later a dark gray horse with a cloaked rider entered the hall where the party was sleeping under the watchful eye of the mummy - who, of course, had no need for sleep any longer.
The horse's hooves made no sound as it moved wraithlike into the room, its procession seeming very ominous indeed.
The rider stayed astride the horse whilst the mummy looked at the newcomer askance. After a few moments Ahlear moved quietly to the rider and they began speaking in hushed voices. All the while, the rider stayed mounted during the conversation, talking down at the mummy in conspiratorial tones. The man seemed utterly composed while Ahlear began to grow more agitated by degree.
"No!" the mummy shouted at last, breaking the silence and waking the rest of the party from there well-earned sleep.
"Who the hell're you?!" Noxin demanded as he rose, hammer ready in his fist. The cloaked figure raised a finger.
"One moment, please," the man said calmly, but loud enough for the others to hear. "My business with Ahlear is not yet concluded."
The mummy seemed to deflate after his outburst and bowed his head with a dry rattling sigh. After another moment's pause, he removed the necklace and ring off his person and gave them to the newcomer. They spoke some more, the newcomer looking dubiously at the two items he has been given. He did not make any move to place them on his person, but neither did he throw them away or pocket them. Instead, he kept them all the while in his hand during the remainder of their conversation.
While the two figures spoke on the far side of the chamber, the others took the opportunity to study the rider who had somehow managed to get a horse down the steep stairs leading up to the island above. His armor seemed made in the same style as the armor Ahlear wore, albeit more solidly built, reinforced in places with chain rather than leather. But the same large leathery plates predominated.
Beneath the armor, he was dressed in what looked like a full regalia uniform, decorated everywhere with heavy filigree, the jacket visible beneath his armor holding many braided ropes of gold and white. Sandy white gloves and high, gleaming black horseman's riding boots that reached up to and then over his knees completed the impression of a military officer. A hooded, weathered cloak of dark brown leather concealed his features mostly but it could be seen that he had a heavy mustache and long hair hanging over his shoulders.
The horse itself seemed insubstantial and ghostly but bore its rider without any apparent effort. It did not move at all, and they had all been around enough horses in their lifetimes to know that the thing wasn't a real horse.
After the conversation with Ahlear has died out, the rider turned to the group and nodded. "You were saying?" he prompted, calmly awaiting their questions.
"I was sayin', who in the nine hells are you?" Noxin repeated, pointing his maul at the newcomer to dispel any doubt who he was talking to.
"Well, I am the relief force, so to speak," the man said, not betraying any fear of the angry half-giant as he went on. He gestured toward Ahlear as he spoke. "I was sent by my mistress, Akadi, to relieve your group of an 'ethical dilemma', and to insure that her loyal servant was not misjudged regarding his loyalty and sincerety. And to make sure that the interests of my 'Lady' were still seen to as well, of course." Morier snorted at the speech and turned away, seemingly disinterested.
"Well then, shall we call you 'Mr. Ethical Dilemma Solver'?" he quipped before turning back to their camp. The horseman drew himself up even taller and straighter on his ghostly steed and looked disapprovingly at the albino.
"Do you address every unknown person with such impolite insolence?" he asked, his tone acidic. "If you wished to know my name, all you had to do was politely ask me, maybe even introduce yourself first."
Morier did not respond and Shamalin and Huzair both gave him reproachful looks.
"Well, guy, that is a friendly greeting for this crew. I got the end of an axe shoved in my face by a smelly dwarf when I joined up. Your greeting was quite civil, by comparison. At least no one spit on your head either," Huzair laughed as he hit Noxin's rock solid arm and winced. The horseman raised an eyebrow.
"If that was nice, then we might have to adjust our expectations a bit, mutually, but fair enough. I hope we can be civil in any regard," he said, whilst bowing his head respectfully. "Well then, to satisfy your curiosity, I am Colonel Saelus Suhn, semi-retired that is... and you, good sirs and ladies are..?"
"Well, name's Noxin," the half-giant said, stepping forward with a grin on his face. "I'm not the guy to ask what's going on though. Just joined this motley crew a night's passage ago."
"Well met," the Colonel said with a nod already turning his eyes to the next in line. But Noxin wasn't quite done.
"I gotta ask... what are the interests of 'your lady' and how are you going to serve them?" he questioned.
"That, sir, I am not yet sure of myself. But I presume that helping you lot with your quest is the beginning of pleasing her," said the newcomer, once more looking to one of the others. Again, he was interrupted.
"I'm confused..." Noxin admitted, scratching his brow... something of a familiar habit, even in just a night's time. "Mind ya, that's not hard to do. You're sent to relieve us of a dilemma and to make sure we didn't judge the zombie?" He pointed at the silent Ahlear standing in the Colonel's shadow.
"Ahlear is a mummy, not a zombie. There is a fundamental difference," Saelus corrected. "And by not having him continue on with the quest it ensures that our intentions show we mean the best." This time, the Colonel did not immediately look away, but prompted Noxin with an 'is that all?' expression.
"How'd ya find yer'self lined up for that mission?" the big man went on, showing that that was in fact not all.
"Not by 'free will or choice'," the newcomer said. "Akadi made herself known to me via one of her servants, and she bid me to go after you lot. Which seems to be a conundrum for a goddess of freedom and independence." Saelus smiled at the irony and Noxin scratched his head again.
"Uh huh," he said, clearly confused. "So how'd ya find us?"
"That was easy almost," Saelus said with a nod. "I am good at following rumors, if I may say so myself." Huzair sighed.
"Well that likely means anyone else looking for us can find us too," the wizard observed looking at Shamalin and Morier. Only Shamalin looked back. "Like that stupid sorcerer who was following us around."
"What sorcerer?" the Colonel asked, his interest piqued. "Have you got a hound after you?"
Huzair opened his mouth to answer, but Noxin talked right over him.
"Wait up here, feller," he said and pointed his hammer at Saelus again, though not in an overtly threatening manner. "You're telling me that you tracked this group here?"
"Yes, in a way," the newcomer admitted. "I followed the stories and events that happened, and was able to travel much faster then a normal horseman would by means of some spells I have mastered."
"Spells you have mastered, huh? Are you some sort of sorcerer or wizard or something too, Colonel?" Huzair asked lighting up a cigar from his thumb in an effort to impress the man. "Maybe we can chat it up sometime about our magic experiences." The Colonel nodded accommodatingly.
"I would hope that you would have useful spells and that we could trade?" Saelus said. "I am of the disciplined arcane variety, a Summoner." Huzair nodded.
"I have taken a broader approach to-" he began and Noxin interrupted again, having just put some of the pieces together.
"What kinda trouble are you folks all in here?" he asked the room. "I mean, I don't want to be fightin' off every hobgoblin in the realm because you leave a trail of bread crumbs behind you!" The Colonel smiled indulgently.
"Anybody who travels leaves a trail behind if and when they come in contact with the 'locals'. And that way, when I roughly knew where I was heading, I had a good time of finding interesting events by which to follow the group," he explained. "It was easy for me. But then again, any pursuers might not be as expert as I am in regards to 'reading the rumors'." That seemed to satisfy Noxin or at least confuse him enough that he retreated quietly into his own thoughts.
Shamalin seized the opportunity to ask curiously, "What are the locals saying about us?"
"I am sure they are saying that the group is being masterly led by a clever and dashing dark skinned wizard to serve the powers of good," Huzair answered quickly, smiling broadly around the cigar clamped in his teeth. "I am sure I have left scores of maidens yearning for me to return." Huzair sighed then and looked sad for a moment, thinking of his little flower and how he would love to kill Hista to avenge her death. Shamalin saw the look cross Huzair's face and she could imagine his thought process. She frowned given the next question she wanted to ask.
"You didn't get your information from a severed flying eye, by chance, did you?" the Mercybringer questioned and Huzair shot her an angry look. Saelus' was much more confused.
"I have not had such an opportunity, no..." he admitted hesitantly.
"I guess I will have to whoop anyone else who shows up on our tails," Huzair said, his lip curled in disgust. Noxin looked at the wizard appraisingly, not sure he was fit to whoop much of anything. He shrugged.
"Well, looks pretty obvious you found us... that's for sure," the half-giant said to Saelus. "But on to somethin' important: What do you bring to the table in way of skills or training?"
"Ah! Well, in addition to my skills at intelligence gathering, I am an accomplished war wizard, a skilled swordsman, and a trained military tactician," Saelus said without a hint of boastfulness.
"So you cast spells and are a warrior, huh?" Huzair observed and got a mischievous look on his face. "Hey, Morier. At least this guy knows how to use his spells." Huzair laughed, but Morier didn't even look up from where he was breaking down camp.
"I can hit hard... move fast... and take a beating, so to speak," Noxin told the group simply. Then, looking a little bashful he added, "I like to think of myself as a puzzle solver. You know, traps and little clues left by people when you're looking for treasure."
"Okay, then. This question can be addressed to both of you," Shamalin said, looking from Noxin to the Colonel and back again. "What gifts would you bring the trapped essence of the goddess of nature?"
"You don't think a bunny'd be a good gift?" Noxin said, his feelings hurt. "My mom always liked it."
"I was thinking more along the lines of a nice plant? Or a bit of cool, clear water from a stream?" Shamalin told him. "Can someone trap a bit of moonlight or sunlight?"
"Hey! I am a ray of sunshine!" Huzair quipped.
"Please, Huzair, I'm trying to be serious," the cleric chided. "Maybe we should gather gifts that would represent the four elements, just as our swords do. If Dridana is irritable and unpredictable due to her confinement, maybe the gift of life would make an impression."
"There is a spell called Daylight," Huzair observed. "But I don't know it."
"Ayremac did," Shamalin said under her breath, too softly to be heard.
"And, at any rate, the light generated is not true sunlight," Colonel Saelus added. "There are certain druid spells that produce actual sunlight. Anger of the Noonday Sun comes to mind, but as we have no druid..." He looked sideways at Ahlear, but the mummy said nothing.
"What happens to the mummy?" Morier called out without turning.
"Ah, yes," the Colonel said, dismounting and offering the reins to Ahlear. "The mummy goes the way I came, by Akadi's providence."
"Prepare yourssselvesss," Histah told them and a spiral of light began to form in the air beside the altar. It gradually grew in size and intensity until it was fully ten feet across and painful to look at. A smell wafted out onto them, like moss-covered earth and the meadow after a rain.
Morier could feel the Pull intensify as the portal opened and he nearly fell over from the unexpected strength of it. But he mastered himself quickly and, grim-faced, stepped through and disappeared. A moment later, he did fall, a pain throbbing in the center of his skull, a painful wave of stings and bites playing maddeningly across his face and neck and shoulders.
Something wet was on him and he felt himself shaken this way and that...
Shamalin slapped him.
"Morier!" she cried out into his face and shook him again. Struggling, his eyes focused on her and he saw that she too was wet. Water was falling on them both.
"I can't..." he muttered. "I can't think! The Pull... so strong... It's here. The heart is here!"
"Where?" Huzair asked, wiping water off his face. The Mark of Fire burned on his naked brow, unaffected by the drenching. He looked around, disturbed by something he couldn't quite pinpoint.
"Yeah!" Noxin agreed. "There ain't much to this place!"
He was right - to a point. The entire area was only a few hundred feet across at most and completely flat. A dense growth of rubbery, green plants grew to waist height all around the clearing in which they had appeared; a few trees, stark and dead clawed upward, their branches stripped of leaves. There was earth and stone beneath their feet, but the place was utterly unnatural apart from that. The ground ended abruptly in the distance all around them in a mass of swirling iridescent clouds that encapsulated the area. Water fell like rain onto the spot where they stood, draining away into a narrow crevice a few paces away.
It wasn't rain, however. Above them, hovering dangerously in the strange sky a hundred feet over their heads was an irregular island of dark rock. The water poured over the side, becoming like rain as it fell.
"There!" Morier managed, pointing to the island. "Up there... is where we need to be."
"Can you feel that?" Colonel Saelus asked Huzair. "This place is charged with magic power... Unstable magic power. I'd be careful about casting spells if I were you."
"I'm confused..." Noxin admitted, scratching his brow... something of a familiar habit, even in just a night's time. "Mind ya, that's not hard to do. You're sent to relieve us of a dilemma and to make sure we didn't judge the zombie?" He pointed at the silent Ahlear standing in the Colonel's shadow.
As I read the above, this was the first thing I thought of:
[ame=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXlUzu2SPkY]YouTube - columbo - "i really love my work, sir"[/ame]
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Originally Posted by Jon Potter
"Ahlear is a mummy, not a zombie. There is a fundamental difference," Saelus corrected. "And by not having him continue on with the quest it ensures that our intentions show we mean the best." This time, the Colonel did not immediately look away, but prompted Noxin with an 'is that all?' expression.
Ahlear: "And I would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for you meddling kids and your dog (Sparky)"
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jon Potter
"Can you feel that?" Colonel Saelus asked Huzair. "This place is charged with magic power... Unstable magic power. I'd be careful about casting spells if I were you."
Well, with that kind of statment he might as well be taunting Huzair to cast a spell. In fact this is like a double dog dare to Huzair..... I bet we see fireballs and lots of them
Well, with that kind of statment he might as well be taunting Huzair to cast a spell. In fact this is like a double dog dare to Huzair..... I bet we see fireballs and lots of them
"This power here is somewhat intoxicating... huh?" Noxin slurred, idly slapping Huzair on the shoulder. The wizard stumbled to the side, colliding lightly with Saelus. Both mages looked angrily at the barbarian, but Noxin wasn't paying them any attention. Instead, he gripped Windblade tightly in his fist, muscles rippling as he marvelled at the raw energy coursing in the air around him.
"I think I can feel this fueling me..." he grinned breathily, his eyes wide as he raised the air sword above his head.
"I do not think an amatuer should mess with this," Huzair cautioned even as he scrambled back away from the half-giant.
If Noxin heard him, he did not heed the warning and presently raw tendrils of energy began to coalesce out of the air above his head, arcing like lightning into Windblade and from there into Noxin. For a moment his grin widened and then, abruptly, he was thrown backward by an overload of unchecked energy. He lay there for a moment, smoking, then he sat up, holding his head.
"Ow," he said, abashed.
"Now is not the time for foolishness," Morier scolded through gritted teeth. It was clear that it was taking a tremendous amount of will power for him to speak with the Pull distracting him so. He pointed at the island above their heads. "We are so close to our goal."
"How are we going to get up there exactly?" Noxin snorted as he got gingerly to his feet.
"Oh, it looks like it is up to me again to solve the problems of the party," Huzair quipped, opening the flap on his Haversack and producing a tiny pouch from within. "Magic dust time." Saelus peered at the pouch as Huzair carefully pulled the drawstring, revealing its glittering contents.
"Fairy Dust!" the wizard observed. "Dust of Levitation, if I'm not mistaken." Huzair nodded.
"Levitation dust?!? I ain't that fond of floating around there, wizard," Noxin observed as he looked over the two men's heads to see the pouch. "More of a boots on the ground type. Do we have any other options?" The half-giant looked around at the others and they each shook their heads in turn.
"Flyboy would have come in handy here," Huzair mused as he offered the Dust around.
"Your flyboy? Who?" Saelus asked and Huzair shook his head, making a 'never mind' gesture. "At any rate, a flying boy would probably have been useful only if he did not mind playing the boatman and ferrying one of us across each time. Ineffective and cumbersome..." Huzair shrugged.
"Well, he would not have minded and it would have worked better than standing here getting all wet," he said, overing Shamalin a pinch of the Dust.
"Well, you know him better so I defer to your judgment on that," Saelus said and sprinkled his pinch of Fairy Dust over his head.
"Sounds like a wonderful feller," Noxin observed. "What did you lot do to run him off?"
"We did very little, actually. He did it to himself," Huzair explained as Morier took a pinch of Dust. "He felt his own agenda was more important than ours." He came around to Noxin and offered the pouch. There was very little of the Dust left and Noxin's thick fingers couldn't fit inside. He ended up licking his pinky finger and sticking it into the pouch, coming out with a finger encrusted with tiny glittering crystals that he rubbed unceremoniously in his unruly hair.
Huzair grimaced, peered into the pouch and upended its meager contents on his own head.
"That's the end of the Dust," he told the others as he replaced the empty pouch into his Haversack. "By the way, do we have an escape route planned?"
His question was met with blank stares.
"Right. I thought as much," he said and sighed. "I can save Fly for the way down if we need a rapid escape."
"Let's just worry about getting there, first," Shamalin suggested, looking nervously at the island above. She remembered well how near to death she had come trying to retrieve the Key of Earth under similar circumstances. They had lost Lela there, and she wondered prophetically who amongst them would come to the end of their days in this place.
"I'll go up first if you all want," Noxin offered, pointing with Windblade. The longsword looked almost like a dagger in his big hand. "I don't mind being the first into the fray."
"Hold on," Huzair said, taking his familiar from his pocket. "I will send up Sparky first for some quick surveillance. Be safe, little buddy." He tossed the hummingbird into the air and it flitted off into the sky.
"What do we do in the meantime?" Noxin asked. "Poke around down here?"
"No!" Morier and Shamalin said at the same time and the barbarian scowled.
"Now we prepare," Huzair said, walking over to Morier. He looked at Saelus and said, "Buffing is a good time to test the magic. I'll start with Morier." The eldritch warrior raised an eyebrow at the wizard.
"Of course, I can take care of myself if I have to Huzair," he said with some effort, "but why worry about it when I have the rest of you around to do it for me?" Huzair snorted once.
"Damn straight! We have been carrying your sorry ass for how many months now?" he told the albino. Then in a quieter voice, he added, "Save the spells for that sword of yours, Morier."
Morier smiled. He could see the uncertainty in the wizard's eyes and hear it in his voice. He placed a hand on the dark-skinned man's shoulder.
"We'll make it, Huzair," he reassured. "I believe the fates have selected me to do this... and I will. I was meant to survive this, and I will cast my buffing spells at the first sign of trouble..." Huzair threw up his hands in mock disgust.
"If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times. Buff BEFORE we get into trouble," the wizard scoffed. "Oh, you will never learn."
Just then Sparky returned from his reconnaissance mission and twittered to Huzair the details of the area above.
"He says there is some kind of ruin up there. Fallen columns and such like in the Termlane Forest where I first hooked up with you guys," the wizard related. "There are two big trees that look dead, a spring that is the source of this 'rain' and... a pedestal with a huge red gemstone on top."
"The Heart!" Shamalin exclaimed involuntarily. She'd been reading about it for so long in Ledare's notes that it was shocking to suddenly find herself so close to it.
"I'll go up first, Morier," Noxin said immediately, holding out his arms. "Huzair, you grab one side; Shamalin... you on the other." Huzair shook his head.
"We should all Levitate up in a different spot or spread out by say 20-30 feet so a single spell cannot afffect us all simultaneously," the mage suggested. "Personally, I do not want to die."
"We expectin' a spellcaster up there?" Noxin asked, his brow furrowed. Huzair shrugged.
"I do not know what to expect," the wizard admitted. "None of us does." Noxin considered that and then looked at Windblade.
"Sword, I am Noxin," he said directly into the weapon's nearly-invisible crosspiece. "I will wield you with a strength you have not yet seen."
"Do as you will," Windblade sighed. "I am eager to fulfill my destiny. I feel its tug on me and would have my part in this fulfilled."
"Tell me, ancient sword, can you tell anything of this place?" the barbarian asked.
"It is outside of nature," the weapon said. "it is sustained by the power of My Lady's Heart. There is an essence of Her here. It is gathering itself."
"Can you assist us here in some way?" Noxin pressed, hopeful.
"I will do what I can," Windblade said. "We all will do our parts, but powerful though we may be, we are but the smallest part of Her power." Noxin turned to the others.
"Well, that don't sound too good, does it?" he grinned and Huzair raised Flameblade and spoke to it.
"Tell us anything else before we go up there to perhaps die," the mage said simply.
"She is gathering awareness," the sword crackled. "Your advantage disappears as you stand here talking." They all looked at one another.
"Let's move," Morier ordered. "We should try to keep a logical spacing between us so that we can't all be wiped out by a single spell."
"Gee what a great idea, Morier," Huzair quipped, rolling his eyes. "You sure are brilliant!"
Morier opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment an unearthly scream split the air, like talons shrieking across a steel breastplate.
"SHE COMES!" Stoneblade thundered a moment before a face of luminous smoke twenty feet tall coalesced out of the air. It was a woman, they could all see, impossibly beautiful and impossibly horrible because of the madness in her eyes and the rictus of pain into which her mouth was twisted. She opened her jaw and screamed again and they felt the full weight of her anguish and lost godhood slam into them like a battering ram.
Confronted with the essence of a divinity, their ranks broke immediately. Huzair and Morier dropped their weapons and bolted into the tall grass. A moment later, Shamalin did the same, tossing her shield aside for good measure and clanking after her more fleet-footed companions. All three screamed in complete panic as they went, their minds all but unhinged.
They left three elemental swords abandoned on the ground as they went.
Noxin and Saelus did not immediately flee from the face of Dridana, but they both felt the powerful urge to run just the same. The urge only increased as they watched a great, moving heap of earth and rock the size of a small tower rise up from the ground on crude legs. Two clublike arms studded with jagged stone hung from its shoulders, and its head was nothing but a blunt, featureless mass of earth, but the crude features staring down at them were twisted with malevolence.
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OOC- So, anyone familiar with Malhavoc Press' event book Requiem for a God might recognize some of these effects. The entirety of the demiplane is within an Energy Well, for instance, which is straight out of that book. Noxin attempted (and failed) to channel some of that energy into himself when they first arrived.
Confronting Dridana's demiurge, required consultation of another book entirely. Atlas Games' Seven Strongholds has rules for when mortals come face to face with the divine called Primal Dread. The dice were unfavorable at this point, and only the two newbies of the party managed to hold their ground when stared down by the fallen goddess; the others all epically failed their Primal Dread checks and ran, panicked.
"This power here is somewhat intoxicating... huh?" Noxin slurred, idly slapping Huzair on the shoulder. The wizard stumbled to the side, colliding lightly with Saelus. Both mages looked angrily at the barbarian, but Noxin wasn't paying them any attention. Instead, he gripped Windblade tightly in his fist, muscles rippling as he marvelled at the raw energy coursing in the air around him.
"I think I can feel this fueling me..." he grinned breathily, his eyes wide as he raised the air sword above his head.
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OOC- So, anyone familiar with Malhavoc Press' event book Requiem for a God might recognize some of these effects. The entirety of the demiplane is within an Energy Well, for instance, which is straight out of that book. Noxin attempted (and failed) to channel some of that energy into himself when they first arrived.
Confronting Dridana's demiurge, required consultation of another book entirely. Atlas Games' Seven Strongholds has rules for when mortals come face to face with the divine called Primal Dread. The dice were unfavorable at this point, and only the two newbies of the party managed to hold their ground when stared down by the fallen goddess; the others all epically failed their Primal Dread checks and ran, panicked.
Not to give anything away, but nearly the same situation occurs in my game Jon, only it works for the PC in question and a new deity is created in the process....
Not to give anything away, but nearly the same situation occurs in my game Jon, only it works for the PC in question and a new deity is created in the process....
Ah, the vagaries of the dice. Not quite sure what Noxin would have been the god of, but it would have been interesting if it had gone another way in my game.
As it is, things are about to get bloody...
I look forward to reading all about it in you story hour. With my new work schedule I'm finding less and less time to keep up with my story hour habit.
Could you give overall level or classes of characters?
The PCs at this point in the gamed ranged from 7th-9th levels.
Huzair - fire elemarn (a genasi variant) wizard/thief
Morier - drow eldritch warrior (a fighter-sorcerer type class)
Noxin - half-giant fighter/barbarian
Saelus - human fighter/wizard/spellsword
Shamalin - half-elf cleric
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You have interesting story hour and I find in-group conflict refreshing altough they still lack proper suspicion toward new PCs...
I'm glad that you're enjoying the story, but at times, the level of inter-party strife borders on game-breaking. It does keep things interesting though.
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I'd probably end up like Ahlear with my suspicion
Before or after his rebirth? After his death I think that the problems he had with the party are pretty straightforward. Before his death, I think that he was just too independently-minded to be able to put the group's needs before his own.
Actually, some of the seeds he sowed back in Colybury come back to haunt the party later on... but I'm getting ahead of myself!
Noxin began backing up slowly, trying to keep an eye on both the screaming demiurge and the moving pile of stone and dirt. Thankfully, the former was fading away even as the living mountain reared up.
"Windblade, could you cause a bluster strong enough to push that pile o' dirt?" the half-giant asked the sword in his hand.
"My mastery of wind is enough to force a roc from the skies," the sword sighed, "but this... it is beyond me. It is the work of the Goddess Herself."
The half-giant cursed and looked at Saelus. "You got any ideas there, commander?!" he asked, stepping backward again. His heel collided with Waveblade as he did so.
"Rr- Rr- Right," Saelus managed to say, his lips shivering as if from the cold. "I will gather Stoneblade; maybe the earth heap will recognize it as its link?" He seemed to want to turn but for a moment was unable to look away, but he mastered himself and picked up the fallen greatsword.
"You gather the Water, and if I can, I will pick up Fire as well," the Colonel went on, gathering confidence as he slipped on the familiar mantle of field commander. "Hopefully the Earth Elemental is slower then us. We can outpace it and keep alive that way..." He stooped and picked up Flameblade as well and held both swords high in the air, gripping them at the ricasso just beneath their hilts, so as not to appear battle ready.
"Stoneblade," Saelus commanded, "address this Elemental, please, and show him we mean no harm!"
"ARE YOU MAD, FLESHLING?" the gray sword thundered. "IT ACTS BY THE DEMIURGE'S WILL ALONE. THERE WILL BE NO REASONING WITH IT!"
"These attacks serve only to distract you from your goal," Flameblade added. "If you all fall here, then there will be no resurrection for Dridana and no destruction for the Rot Queen!"
"See if you can distract that pile of dirt!" Noxin said to the Colonel as he stooped and picked up Waveblade in his off-hand. He turned, hunched in a defensive stance with the two Elemental Blades leaning in towards each other, almost crossed in front of him.
"I have not prepared -" Saelus started to bark back and then Noxin touched the two blades against one another. There was a strangely sibilant ripping sound and the two weapons flared with a brilliant aquamarine brilliance.
And suddenly Noxin was holding only one sword; a greatsword of a length that rivaled the one he kept strapped across his back. It was much too big to be wielded by anyone smaller than he was, and would have looked well-suited in an ogre's eager hands. The weapon was surrounded by a luminous haze and dripped moisture onto the already wet ground.
"I AM CLOUDBLADE, SCION OF MIST, MIGHTIEST OF THE ELEMENTAL BLADES!" the enormous greatsword hissed. Noxin looked at the weapon and blinked.
"Oops," he said.
Some 150 feet away, Morier and Huzair collided with the edge of the demi-plane, and though it looked like roiling clouds it was as solid as a brick wall. Morier struck it and rebounded into Huzair, cushioning he latter man's impact somewhat and sending both of them onto the ground, bleeding from scrapes and gashes that leaked, not red blood, but rather the emerald tendrils of some sort of plant that was trying to grow out of their bodies.
Saelus looked at Noxin's mist-cloaked blade and then up at the earth elemental. The monolithic creature would be upon them any second. The Colonel touched Stoneblade and Flameblade to one another decisively and there was that same rending susurration and the two swords pulsed with an angry orange glow for a single heartbeat. When the light died down the wizard held a single sword, a sabre that smoked blackly and glowed as if it had just been pulled from the forge.
"I AM MOLTENBLADE, THE SCION OF MAGMA, GREATEST OF THE ELEMENTAL BLADES!" the sabre roared in a voice like an earthquake.
"What the-?" Huzair cursed, pulling at the bloom of greenery that was forcing itself out of the abrasion in his cheek. It hurt to tug at them, as if they were part of him, somehow. "What is this? What's going on?"
Morier got to his feet. his breath coming in ragged adrenalin-fueled gasps. He too had some leafy shoots protruding from a gash about his right eyebrow. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it quickly as Shamalin clanked out of the tall grass, nearly collided with him and then slammed bodily into the edge of the pocket dimension with a sound like a struck gong. She rebounded and landed at Morier and Huzair's feet.
She blinked up at them, her eyes still filled with shock and awe. Verdant tendrils were peeking out of a cut at her hairline.
"H-how?" she stammered. "How can we cope with this? So much power. So much pain."
The elemental stepped forward and a fist the size of a cottage swept around, low to the ground and struck Noxin. The half-giant was a big man and he was very adept at standing his ground in a pushing contest, but he may as well have been trying to hold back an avalanche. The gargantuan elemental struck him hard and the awesome blow lifted him off his feet like he was made of straw. The big man flew bodily through the air and slammed into ground beside the Colonel, bounced once and then rolled up against the wizard's legs.
"Ow..." Noxin grimaced, spitting blood. There was a cut along the side of the half-giant's jaw, Saelus saw, and from it were sprouting verdent, leafy tendrils. The wizard jerked back his own leg from beneath the big man and saw that fingers of green were poking through a hole torn in his polished boot by the flying barbarian.
He quickly looked back up at the elemental and saw its fist going up, up, up... 80 feet in the air at least.
"Saelus, don't leave my side," Noxin suggested, brandishing Cloudblade. "I am going to fog up the surroundings and give us some cover!" The wizard held up his hand and shook his head.
"My Sandstorm will be much better in laying cover," Saelus told the barbarian.
"Cast your spell then!!" Noxin replied and assumed Gaseous Form.
Smiling a smile through gritted teeth, the wizard said, "I was about to."
"Flor have mercy!" Shamalin cried out and targeted herself with a Dispel Magic. Even as she cast it, however, she felt the magic going wrong. The power in this place - Dridana's power - was overwhelming. It filled every bit of the demiplane, warping the effects of magic, and wrestling it away from the cleric like a bully taking a baby's toy. The delicate matrix of the Dispel Magic exploded in Shamalin's head, sending waves of unrestrained magic pulsing through her body.
She screamed and staggered to the side, her mind an unfocused, buzzing, snarl.
"Shamalin!" Morier cried out as the Mercybringer convulsed. Huzair gritted his teeth and looked up at the island above.
"I am going up!" he announced. "This is a distraction." He activated the Ring of Invisibility and drew forth his Scroll of Fly. "Vola!" he intoned. As Shamalin had, he felt the hands of Dridana trying to undo his magic at the source, but he worked around it on the fly and rewove the spell before it could come unravelled.
The scroll crumpled to dust in his hands as the spell took hold.
Saelus kept a wary eye on the elemental's enormous fist as he worked the somatic components for his Sandstorm spell. The threads of magic began to come apart in his mind, but he held them fast and released the magic more or less at the elemental's feet. A raging storm of dirt and grit sprang up around the monolith of stone, completely blocking from view its body from the waist down.
The elemental's fist came down on Noxin with the force of a landslide and passed harmlessly through the half-giant's Gaseous Form. The wisps of barbarian parted around the stony fist and reformed in its wake. He grinned a misty grin.
"Wow! This is pretty cool," he said and looked down at Saelus. The wizard was hiding at the edge of his magical Sandstorm, hidden for the moment from the elemental. "HEY, SAELUS!" he called, and when the wizard gave no indication that he'd heard him, the half-giant realized that he wasn't actually speaking... which sort of made sense given that his mouth was made of fog or something. He shrugged his gaseous shoulders and looked around. "Well, I guess I can't talk," he thought to himself. insubstantial lips moving out of habit. "Okay... Well... Up seems to be the way to go... UP!"
And with that thought he Levitated toward the island.
Shamalin tried to focus on the miracles she'd prayed for that morning and found that she could not. Her mind was reeling from the damage the unrestrained magic had done to her and she could not concentrate enough to cast even an orison. Knowing that her spells were beyond her, she struggled for a moment to push back a rising panic, considering all the while how, not long ago, this would have been a welcome end. The irony of meeting her death at the hands of a Goddess of Good, considering Shamalin's past, was not lost upon her even in her befuddled state. But there was a small task that yet needed to be finished.
Shamalin began praying, a desperate appeal to Flor... and Umba... and Shaharizod... and Brogine... and anyone else she could think of. She pleaded on behalf of all those who had sufferred and fallen on the journey to this point - a cry for divine intervention... to make Dridana see the reason behind their purpose here.
Hearing the barely intelligible litany of prayer coming from the Mercybringer's lips, Morier thought that she had somehow been driven mad by the magical backlash he had seen her suffer. He was about to go to her aid when a rope dropped down in front of him.
"Come on Morier!" Huzair's voice called down from above. The albino looked up and saw that the rope ended in mid-air 15 or so feet above his head. The wizard's voice was calling from somewhere above that point. "The fate of the world lies with us. Grab the rope! Let us go save the world!"
Happily and without reservation of any sort, Morier grabbed the rope and felt an ineffectual tug on it.
"You are going to need to use the Levitation Dust I gave you!" Huzair's annoyed voice told him. "I do not know how someone so small can be so damned heavy!"
Morier concentrated with all his might, managing to Levitate off the ground and was immediately pulled toward the floating island by Huzair's tether.
Saelus backed away from the Sandstorm as quickly as he dared. The elemental was still visible from the waist up, which left its two enormous fists free to crush him like an insect. It didn't do so, however. Instead it raised those fists and emitted a thunderous sound like stone breaking against stone. A web of cracks rose up its body from some point inside the Sandstorm and then it fell apart. Slabs of rock ground away from its torso, amid a torrent of raw earth and gravel. With a ground-jarring thud it dropped into the whirling cloud of sand and vanished.
Mouthing a prayer of thanks for his good fortune, Saelus concentrated on the Levitation spell active upon him and rose upward.
Huzair quaffed a Potion of Cure Light Wounds... his last such elixir... and felt a moment's reprieve from the greenery splitting his wounds open from the inside. The sense of relief passed quickly however and then he could feel the plants working their terrible work again.
Dangling below the Invisible wizard, Morier did not have even that much respite and he winced as the tendrils of green sprouting from his forehead forced their way down over his eye to brush against his cheek, threatening to block his sight. He shook his head, parting the vines and allowing him to see clearly.
He regretted it almost at once.
He could see Saelus floating slowly upward, thirty feet or so above the ground and at least twice that from the bottom of the floating island above. Noxin was harder to spot, but their was a humanoid-shaped cloud of fog three quarter's of the way to the island that seemed of the proper bulk to be the half-giant. Below them the Sandstorm churned, and rising from the center of it was a vast misty shape that Morier immediately recognized.
"Air elemental!" he called up to Huzair.
"Crap!" the wizard called back.
"Most holy Dridana, goddess of nature... do not fear us," Shamalin prayed aloud. "We've come to rescue you from your prison tomb. Hear me!"
She did. And she came.
The glowing smoky face materialized before the cleric, eyes glowing with divine agony and madness. The Mercybringer looked into those eyes and was immediately struck blind, sap exploding from empty sockets that had once held eyes. The demiurge opened its mouth and spoke a word. Shamalin stiffened and fell to the ground, dead.
A gore-slicked creature of wood and leaf, vaguely humanoid in shape, tore itself from the half-elf's corpse, adding its own cries of torment to those of the demiurge.
I almost guessed it, though I thought Shamalin's body would fuel a twisted plant (like a hangman's tree) while Shamalin became a dryad. All the more to protect the crazed diefic hortalculturist.
I almost guessed it, though I thought Shamalin's body would fuel a twisted plant (like a hangman's tree) while Shamalin became a dryad. All the more to protect the crazed diefic hortalculturist.
Good ideas, HM. Again, I ask: where were you when I was planning this encounter?
Another Primal Dread check (and another failure) for Shamalin laid the cleric low. The plant creature that births itself from Shamalin's remains is a Child of Syllisia from Atlas Games' Touched by the Gods, quite possibly the first 3rd party d20 product I ever bought and one of the most influential on this campaign.
Hey Huzair has a translator! Some of your stuff is on, but I do not mean him to as bad as you make him out. He wants the power, but for the respect that Morier has. At least that is my motivation. He is all about glory and getting his props for sure. Ruling the world....well it would get him laid.
Noxin looked up at the jagged bottom of the floating island and urged himself toward its edge, using the natural flight granted by his Gaseous Form to change his approach so that he Levitated up to the island along the edge. He was almost there, he saw with mounting excitement.
Perhaps there was something to be said for floating after all...
"Does it see us?" Huzair called down to Morier as the wizard hauled them both toward the edge of the island. He focused entirely on flight, not daring to slow down now with the threat of an air elemental added to their already dire situation.
Morier, dangling below, looked at the new elemental and fancied that he could already feel the powerful currents of wind whipping around the towering thing. But it was likely his imagination as the misty shape seemed to be still gathering itself together.
"Not yet!" he called up to the mage. "It's not fully formed. We've got a few moments... but that's all" Above him, Huzair grinned invisibly.
"That's all we'll need," he said as they reached the island and flew up over its upper surface. In a small voice to himself he added, "I hope."
Saelus looked up at Noxin's misty form as the barbarian vectored toward the edge of the floating island. The wizard was going to come up at least twenty feet from the edge, but there was nothing for it; he didn't have the benefits of the mist blade.
"Sword," Saelus said, holding the weapon he did have before him so that he addressed the crosspiece more or less. "Now that you are merged, do you know more about the keys?"
"WE ELEMENTAL BLADES ARE THE KEYS!" the sword crackled and spit and Saelus noticed now that the blade's orange glow flared and brightened with each word the weapon spoke. Blast furnace heat was coming off it in waves that the wizard could feel but was not bothered by in the slightest. "WITHOUT THE FOUR WHO ARE ALL THE HEART CANNOT BE FREED!"
"And what happens if we merge the blades further?" Saelus asked. "Taking the two blades down to one?"
"YOU WILL HAVE UNITY!" Moltenblade told him. "FOUR ELEMENTS AS ONE! MASTERY OVER ALL! THE POWER TO FREE THE FRUITFUL ONE'S HEART WITH A SINGLE STROKE!"
Noxin drifted over the lip of the island at roughly the same time as Huzair and Morier flew in from the opposite direction. They all got a very clear view of the flat parcel of land that was somehow suspended in the air. Grass grew long and verdant on every available square inch of ground, and near the center of the island, two majestic oaks spread their leaves as if to the warmth of the sun. At the edge nearer to Noxin, a bubbling natural spring provided a perpetual supply of water which spilled out over the edge, causing the drizzle of tiny raindrops that fell onto the land far below. Not far from the spring crouched the remains of a ruined temple. A large reddish gem embedded into a pedestal of silvery metal stood near the edge where Huzair and Morier approached. The crystal gem and its base were the only things on the island that were not once living.
Noxin could tell at once that the temple had been defiled. Its remains, however, showed that its design was antiquated with outer walls constructed from hardened peat and an inner wall from shrubbery; trees formed its supporting columns, vines and latticework trellises its statuary. All were in a state of decrepitude and disrepair that could only come from eons of neglect.
Morier could tell at once that the gemstone on the pedestal was Dridana's Heart, and as soon as his feet cleared the edge of the island he released Huzair's rope and ran to the pedestal. The stone was larger than any the eldritch warrior had ever seen before - nearly the size of his head and utterly flawless. Upon inspection of the giant gemstone he could see visions of nature scenes slowly spinning within its translucent surface: serene plains, sparkling waterfalls, and peaceful dales festooned with oak and weeping willows all drifted within the rose-colored crystal. Forest animals could be seen playing beneath the trees as leaves fell gently around them.
It was beautiful.
"Are you crying?" Huzair's voice asked from somewhere nearby. Morier did not tear his eyes away from the gemstone.
"The Heart, Huzair," he said, breathlessly. "We've finally found it!"
"Great!" the wizard replied. "Now what do we do with it?"
"The swords!" Morier said quickly, turning away from the gem with reluctance. "We need them. Now!"
"Yeah... well I sort of... dropped mine back when the giant face screamed at us," Huzair admitted, shuddering invisibly. Morier nodded.
"Me too," he told his invisible companion. "Hopefully Noxin or Saelus picked them up."
"Well, where are they?" Huzair groused. "We are in kind of a hurry here!"
"I saw Saelus and Noxin Levitating toward the island," the albino told his friend. "But I think the elemental's going to get to them before they get to us." There was a pause during which they listened to the rising howl of the wind below and Huzair reached a decision.
"Good-bye, my friend," the wizard's voice said and then his Valiant Vessel traveler's purse appeared in the air and thunked down at Morier's feet. "It was a pleasure fighting with you." The eldritch warrior looked down at the bag his eyes grew wide with concern.
"Huzair? What are you thinking?" Morier called but there was no response. The mage was already gone.
Saelus was urging himself along the jagged underside of the island when he heard Huzair's voice coming from somewhere nearby.
"The Heart is up top, Colonel," he said. "I hope to hell you brought the swords with you."
"I have half of them," Saelus replied without slowing his methodical pace.
"Then move your ass," Huzair replied. "I will try slowing the elemental."
Huzair looked down at the thing forming itself below him. Distortions in the vapor and wind of the thing suggested two eyes and a ragged mouth. It seemed to stare right at him despite the fact that he was Invisible and he suppressed another shudder.
"I cannot understand why we are rescuing you, Dridana. This quest has killed so many of us already," Huzair cried out to the spirit of the goddess he'd come here to save. "I hope you are worth saving!"
And then he dove to the right, Wand of Scorch ready in his hand. He pointed and spoke a command word unleashing a tongue of magical fire that struck the vaporous elemental squarely. The flame was caught up in its swirling body as it began to spin, transforming in an eyeblink from a humanoid to a sixty foot tall cyclone.
The whirlwind came at him so fast that he could do nothing to avoid it. And then he was gripped by the wind, buffeted from all sides and scoured by debris caught up in the tornado with him.
Saelus Levitated over the side of the island and stepped easily onto the grass beside the bubbling spring. He spotted Morier and started to run, Moltenblade hot in his fist.
Noxin's Form had remained Gaseous, content to slowly drift forward. But upon seeing the wizard running toward the pale elf, he dismissed the effect. As soon as he regained his solidity, he began to run, displaying the speed for which his barbarian tribe was famous.
Morier picked up Huzair's Handy Haversack and found the flap unclasped and open. Attached to the top was a scrap of parchment on which was a note written in the wizard's spidery script. It read:
"If you are reading this, I am dead.
Morier, divide my stuff the best you see fit.
Your decision is my final wish.
Tell the old man I died a hero.
Your friend, Huzair."
Morier looked up and mouthed the word, "No."
Suspended within the cyclone, Huzair tried to activate his Ring of Blinking, but it did nothing; belatedly, he considered that this pocket dimension must have no connection to the ethereal plane. And as the winds ripped at him, shredding his flesh, he focused his Concentration on casting one last spell.
"This is a manuever I learned from Blackheart," he told the elemental through gritted teeth. "See you on the other side."
Then he spoke two words of magic, "Pilae inflammati!" and detonated a Fireball on himself. It blew the elemental's whirlwind apart from the inside and reduced Huzair Blacksmoke to a cloud of ash.
Saelus ran with Moltenblade held out in front of him as if making a cavalry charge, albeit on foot... which he found distasteful. Not that infantry didn't have their place. Of course they did, but his place was not amongst their ranks. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the barbarian moving in fast from the far side of the island, and although he had well over twice the distance to cover it looked as though the half-giant were going to reach the albino only a few moments after Saelus did.
Clearly, Noxin was well-suited to the role of footman.
The wizard skidded to a halt a few paces away from Morier and held the Scion of Magma up in one hand while bracing his other hand on his knee. He huffed and puffed for a moment before managing to get out, "Morier? Where are the others? I think our mage has bought us a few seconds."
Morier said nothing for a moment as, grim-faced, he slung the Handy Haversack across his body. For a moment he could not believe that Huzair had done what he'd done, but then he focused on what yet remained to do, snapping at once to full attention.
"Shamalin was struck mad or something," the elf said, sparing a worried look over his shoulder in the direction he and Huzair had come. "She was babbling and-"
Noxin thundering up to the pair stopped Morier in mid-sentence. An enormous smile split the half-giant's face.
"Well, this is it then! Lets free this goddess!!" he said, excitedly. "But first..." He produced three small vials, holding each by the neck between the fingers of his left hand. He offered them around and then downed the remaining one in a single gulp. His wounds closed somewhat, but overall the effect wasn't all that great. He snorted and tossed the empty potion bottle over his shoulder.
As Morier chugged his healing elixir, Noxin held out Cloudblade. "Saelus, join that sword here," he said, giving a nod to the blade the wizard held in his hand. "Morier, grab a hold! We will plunge it into the gem together! That's how this works, right?"
"Just breaking the 'gem' will suffice, I am of a mind," Saelus replied, first sniffing and then downing the potion. He looked at the half-giant and held up the empty vial. "I will repay you this potion if we get through this ordeal."
Noxin turned an eye to Saelus ."Lad..." he started to say and then ever so slightly scrunched his face, as if to resolve himself. "There's time for debate later. Let's just get this done!".
And again he thrust the sword forward to be combined with the Colonel's. Moltenblade and Cloudblade crossed blades with a sizzling sound and the air was rent as a pulse of light flared brilliant white around them. When it faded, Saelus was holding a new sabre that seemed at once more common and more fantastic than any of the previous elemental blades. It was made of steel - or something that looked like steel - engraved point to crosspiece with a motif of intertwining vines and leaves. The whole radiated the wholesome yellow glow of sunlight.
"Hey!" Noxin growled. "How'd you get the sword?"
"I don't-" Saelus started before his new weapon interrupted him.
"We are Unity, the Four Who are All," the sword said, its voice not unlike the voice of the samsara sword, Morier observed mutely. Although this talking blade seemed to be speaking with a single voice that still somehow spoke in harmony with itself.
Those words - 'the Four Who are All'. How many times had he listened to Ledare talk about them around the campfire? They had hypothesized dozens of possible meanings for the phrase and now... here was the explanation, concrete, with no ambiguity. And where was Ledare?
The albino looked at his two companions and reflected on the irony... or poetry... of finally reaching this climactic moment with only these two relative strangers at his side. Vade, Ixin, Feln, Lela, Karak, Ixin again, Ahlear, Anania, Huzair... all had paid the ultimate price to put him where he stood at the moment. He stood, slack-jawed, overwhelmed by the circumstances.
His reverie did not last long.
"Whoah!" Noxin shouted, readying his greathammer as he looked up at something above and behind Saelus.
A volume of water the size of a large inn rose up from the spring into the crude shape of a humanoid. Its limbs were thick tendrils of water that loosely resembled arms and it raised these above its vague suggestion of a head. Its voice rose up like the crashing of surf during a hurricane.
"Time's up! Now move!" Saelus commanded as he shoved Unity into Morier's hands and shoved the albino towards the gem. The elf stumbled once, but with the blade in hand, he knew exactly what to do.
He leveled it at the metal pedestal and the sword spoke, "At long last..." Then a twisting ray of energy erupted from the blade, bathing the gem simultaneously in fire, lightning, ice, and acid. The metal pedestal dissolved into slag under the elemental barrage, leaving the gem suspended in the air at chest height.
The water elemental cried out in frustration and collapsed back into the spring even as a rumbling sound rose up from all around them. The swirling iridescent clouds that bordered the demiplane seemed to be rolling closer, swallowing up the plane in the process.
Last edited by Jon Potter; 30th November 2008 at 05:53 PM..
Reason: Because my finger slipped, resulting in a an embarrassing moment of premature posting
With the insane diety near saving and the demi-plane ready to expel the survivors. I'm left wondering do we see some reincarnations from the nature goddess or do we see ?
And as for those that came before:
Ixin - I think would have been proud to die for this cause and would have been fine with Morier holding the decisive strike.
Karak - The dwarf would have been insulted that a human got to do the job a dwarf was born to do (save the world)
Huzair - What? Aw this sucks, where's all the chicks that should be waiting for me? Man I hope I get raised, this afterlife thing is just not my style.
Alhear - Well, he has a dry sense of humor (very dry, almost dessicated ) so he'd likely view it as another chance to prove to nature it can be circumvented.
Feln - He's in paradise and couldn't be bothered to be reached for comment.
Shamalin - Would be the most distraught, watching the god wracked with insanity and unable to see that the party is there to help. Out of the above I feel as if she could chose not to come back, instead viewing her mortal work as completed with the return of the Heart to its rightful state. Emotionally invested in the outcome, victory comes at the release of duty and therefore a sense of accomplishment.
ah well, just the observations and opinions of a raving madman.
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