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[5E] The Age of Worms - Solid Snake's Campaign
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<blockquote data-quote="Alexander Bryant" data-source="post: 7144657" data-attributes="member: 6884000"><p><strong>The Journal of Etona - Entry Four</strong></p><p></p><p>We made our way to deep within the Whispering Cairn. Alastor had honored his word and the iron door stood ajar waiting for us. Beyond was a remarkable sight.</p><p></p><p>A great circular chamber a hundred feet rose above and bottomless below save for a wide ring around the outside of the room where we could walk, its curved walls depicting a great battle between two legendary forces: tall, androgynous beings against a black cloud. The humanoids seemed to be losing as the story was told across the four statues-in-walls (Egan called them “bas reliefs”).</p><p></p><p>The pit dropped away on the other side of the walking ring, spanned by four stone bridges leading to a stone island in the middle which was itself pierced by a column of air firing from who knows where through to the faint far-away ceiling above. Two of the bridges were broken – long ago by the looks of them.</p><p></p><p>“Rey, could you tie this rope around me?” I peered over the edge. “I don’t know that I want to spend the rest of my life falling.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye now, these must be the Wind Dukes of Aaqa what Allustan was talking about,” Egan remarked as we cautiously circled the outer ring of the chamber.</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean?” asked Rey as she began tying.</p><p></p><p>“These characters we’ve been spyin’ throughout the cairn are written in Auran. ‘Tis the native language o’ denizens who inhabit the Elemental Plane of Air,” he said. “Some of the rarer glyphs are probably family names like the woon we saw on the sarcophagus.”</p><p></p><p>“So what?”</p><p></p><p>“Well now, it becomes important only with th’ context. A great battle took place na’ far from here between the Wind Dukes and the minions o’ Tharizdun,” Egan began.</p><p></p><p>“Tharizdun,” I interrupted. “I have heard that name, but . . . .” I couldn’t quite remember that history lesson.</p><p></p><p>“A long forgotten god what wishes to unmake all of creation,” Egan continued.</p><p></p><p>“Because?”</p><p></p><p>Egan shrugged. “I’m shoore it makes sense ta the god. The Wind Dukes forged a great artifact called the Rod a’ Seven Parts and used it ta vanquish the Chained God’s legions. Allustan believes that this tomb was built for a Wind Duke himself or an important general.”</p><p></p><p>“The Rod of Seven Parts,” I said as Rey tested the rope around my waist. “That one I know more about. Do you have me, Rey?” She grunted in acknowledgment. “A weapon of incredible power only meant to be used sparingly in times of great need, disassembled into seven parts when not. Many have spent their all their years looking for them.”</p><p></p><p>“Aye, lass.”</p><p></p><p>“Mm. All right then, this bridge. Hopefully it won’t collapse, neh? But if so –.” Rey nodded: she was ready, and I light.</p><p></p><p>It was a transport tube, I was sure of it: the column of swirling air took you up to whatever was above. I was so taken with this idea that I didn’t notice two mostly-empty suits of armor wielding blades float down out of the swirling air to me.</p><p></p><p>“Hello!” I said. I began to bow. “My name is Etona. We mean no disrespect and are not here to loot. We are looking for –.”</p><p></p><p>I have never seen blades move so quickly. They flashed, four edges slicing across me as if I was an onion on the cutting board of a multi-armed chef. I suddenly had seconds to live.</p><p></p><p>But maybe a whole minute to live if –.</p><p></p><p>I dove over the side.</p><p></p><p>“Noooooooo!” screamed Rey bracing herself like a sailor trying to right the sails on a ship in a storm. She must have thought I’d died, but she kept her head, thank my Mistress, and hauled me across an arc of the circle so I could spring off and onto the ledge, then onto the stone walkway itself. I was numb and light-headed and probably heading towards unconscious – I cannot express to you how terrible this is for one of my kind – but I had not the luxury of that nightmare so I tried to stay conscious.</p><p></p><p>“Obi, kill them!” hissed Rey with what sounded a lot like rage to me, and the owlbear obediently sprang to them, snapping and clawing. Egan also tried to cover me – to make sure these armored air golems would not leave their little island – with gouts of fire. It was hard to see if these had any affect on them, but they left me alone to shiver, to recover, and so I am thankful to these, my <em>s’thayen</em>, my “friends” in the Common, weak a word though it is in that language.</p><p></p><p>I got my feet under me again, took some breaths, watched the ow–, watched Obi fight the two in such a way as they could not seem to land a blow on the low, thick-hided creature coiling and moving with surprising grace. It was as if he was just below where they could see.</p><p></p><p>Rey leaped across the – </p><p></p><p> OH GODDESS!!</p><p></p><p>No, she was all right.</p><p></p><p>Goddess.</p><p></p><p>That was worse than the blades.</p><p></p><p>She had leaped over part of the arc of the circle but stumbled and fell! She had only caught herself with one hand as the rest of her tried to plummet into the next world.</p><p></p><p>I am hurt. Badly. Blood everywhere. I am in shock, I know. And that is why I reacted that way, neh? But . . . . perhaps Rey is more than s’thaya to me. A painful thought. Again? So soon? And I know nothing about her.</p><p></p><p>Rey somehow retained and even stowed her spear then, using one hand and sheer force of will, pulled herself up from the ledge. She flexed her knotted muscles, re-brandished the spear – spinning it once or twice – and charged the two sentinels anew!</p><p></p><p>I remembered to push closed my open mouth. If she could do that, I could shake off my own pain and help her.</p><p></p><p>I got to my feet, stepped over to one of the fallen bridges, dashed to the end and flew over the gap firing into the back of the left one’s neck, landing gracefully on my feet. <em>Always trust your feet</em>, I heard my father’s voice again, and they did not let me down.</p><p></p><p>Arrow after arrow through their backsides while Rey’s spear – drawing sparks – Egan’s magic and Obi’s fierce beak tore them apart. Their smoking armor at last fell into inanimate heaps at our feet. But would two more appear, and two after that?</p><p></p><p>We were not ready for that. I had to sit down again, exhausted. Egan was hurt as well.</p><p></p><p>And then Rey did the most curious thing.</p><p></p><p>She knelt down in front of me with a look of concentration and gently placed her hands across the bleeding slashes. I felt a tingling. Then her eyes closed and she look a little surprised. I gasped, for blue lightning began flowing from the back of her neck down her arms straight into me. It was . . . ecstasy. I know much of healing by magic, by acolytes of different gods and goddesses, each imparting its own sensation. For Sehanine, it is a coolness that makes one restless and alert. It is wonderful, and others’ healing touches are wonderful in their ways, but this was different: this was blue fire and opium and lightning and a part of Rey herself and –.</p><p></p><p>I don’t know what I would have done had Egan not been there.</p><p></p><p>While I reclaimed my breath she applied her energy to Egan, but the effect on him seemed merely calming, and he looked at peace as when I watched priests of Pelor heal people.</p><p></p><p>We circled the column of air waiting for additional guardians but none came, so I eagerly stepped in.</p><p></p><p>What a feeling. The air became: it transformed into a soft caressing thing that propelled me up at a stately pace. It was noisy, its only downfall, but majestic too.</p><p></p><p>Atop it was easy enough to hop off and look around. Eventually Rey and Egan joined me, and all of us saw essentially the same sarcophagus as presided over the various traps nearer the entrance of the place. It was at end of the tiny, otherwise empty chamber here.</p><p></p><p>I had little interest in the place and said as much wishing to return to the search of Layla. </p><p></p><p>“There is a place we haven’t looked yet,” Rey said.</p><p></p><p><em>Resh</em>. The weight of the earth above, a tiny trapped elf below. Another test.</p><p></p><p>“Very well,” I replied. “But before we go further underground, I need some fresh air.”</p><p></p><p>So I tested the swirling air in the down direction where it worked perfectly. To my disappointment, it would not allow me to ride down past where we entered, perhaps to see its source, but gently ejected me back onto the island.</p><p></p><p>Apparently Egan and Rey were making a discovery above: the other bas relief there had a stone head carved among them which turned to watch any who drew themselves up the small stairs to the stone- remains-holding-box. This sensibly spooked Rey back to the entrance in the floor – I would likely have done the same – but Egan seems obsessed with forgotten lore and so he remained to hear a clear voice in his head say to him, in Common, “Speak my name”.</p><p></p><p>Allustan would likely know this bit of information.</p><p></p><p>Meanwhile I was passing by the ankheg to spend some moments alone outside. I took in Her realm’s sound, its scent, the boundless sky and far horizon. Then I turned my back on it, as She apparently willed to me to do, and journeyed back in.</p><p></p><p>Stepping into a small metal tube that speared deep into the earth was . . . terrible. There is none worse. My heartbeat, my hot breath, my choked sobs: they all radiated back at me squeezing out the remaining air from the already crowded tube.</p><p></p><p>It opened at last to blackness, more stone, obstacle, failure.</p><p></p><p>“No,” I whimpered softly. “No more.”</p><p></p><p>But I remembered the wildly flying dagger that Miss Mischief sent, Her laugh, Her touch, and <em>her</em> touch. I thought of Egan needing us here, needing me here.</p><p></p><p>There was work to do.</p><p></p><p>A giant stone slab blocked the only exit from this room. There was a opening, perhaps enough to allow me through but not anything permitting Egan or Rey. And I would not go alone.</p><p></p><p><em>Of course I will, if Layla be there somehow, but don’t ask this of me. Please.</em></p><p></p><p>“What if we enlarge the opening?” I asked.</p><p></p><p>“With what? We can’t break through that,” Rey stated.</p><p></p><p>I turned to Egan. “What about your magic?”</p><p></p><p>Egan shook his head. “Nay, lass: I doona possess power great enough to melt stoon.”</p><p></p><p>“Maybe not magic then. What if there was something that could –. Oh!”</p><p></p><p>I human I knew in another life was fond of saying, “It’s a million to one shot, but it just might work!” It was a ridiculous misunderstanding of odds but his enthusiasm made me smile even now. It just might work at that.</p><p></p><p>We went back out – breathe, recover – and worked together to cart the remains of the ankheg off to the stone. I was able to extract the acid it had used on us and turn it to service against the rock. It worked! The passageway was now wide enough for us to all continue forward.</p><p></p><p>“After you,” I said to them with a grin and little wink towards the moon somewhere above.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Alexander Bryant, post: 7144657, member: 6884000"] [b]The Journal of Etona - Entry Four[/b] We made our way to deep within the Whispering Cairn. Alastor had honored his word and the iron door stood ajar waiting for us. Beyond was a remarkable sight. A great circular chamber a hundred feet rose above and bottomless below save for a wide ring around the outside of the room where we could walk, its curved walls depicting a great battle between two legendary forces: tall, androgynous beings against a black cloud. The humanoids seemed to be losing as the story was told across the four statues-in-walls (Egan called them “bas reliefs”). The pit dropped away on the other side of the walking ring, spanned by four stone bridges leading to a stone island in the middle which was itself pierced by a column of air firing from who knows where through to the faint far-away ceiling above. Two of the bridges were broken – long ago by the looks of them. “Rey, could you tie this rope around me?” I peered over the edge. “I don’t know that I want to spend the rest of my life falling.” “Aye now, these must be the Wind Dukes of Aaqa what Allustan was talking about,” Egan remarked as we cautiously circled the outer ring of the chamber. “What do you mean?” asked Rey as she began tying. “These characters we’ve been spyin’ throughout the cairn are written in Auran. ‘Tis the native language o’ denizens who inhabit the Elemental Plane of Air,” he said. “Some of the rarer glyphs are probably family names like the woon we saw on the sarcophagus.” “So what?” “Well now, it becomes important only with th’ context. A great battle took place na’ far from here between the Wind Dukes and the minions o’ Tharizdun,” Egan began. “Tharizdun,” I interrupted. “I have heard that name, but . . . .” I couldn’t quite remember that history lesson. “A long forgotten god what wishes to unmake all of creation,” Egan continued. “Because?” Egan shrugged. “I’m shoore it makes sense ta the god. The Wind Dukes forged a great artifact called the Rod a’ Seven Parts and used it ta vanquish the Chained God’s legions. Allustan believes that this tomb was built for a Wind Duke himself or an important general.” “The Rod of Seven Parts,” I said as Rey tested the rope around my waist. “That one I know more about. Do you have me, Rey?” She grunted in acknowledgment. “A weapon of incredible power only meant to be used sparingly in times of great need, disassembled into seven parts when not. Many have spent their all their years looking for them.” “Aye, lass.” “Mm. All right then, this bridge. Hopefully it won’t collapse, neh? But if so –.” Rey nodded: she was ready, and I light. It was a transport tube, I was sure of it: the column of swirling air took you up to whatever was above. I was so taken with this idea that I didn’t notice two mostly-empty suits of armor wielding blades float down out of the swirling air to me. “Hello!” I said. I began to bow. “My name is Etona. We mean no disrespect and are not here to loot. We are looking for –.” I have never seen blades move so quickly. They flashed, four edges slicing across me as if I was an onion on the cutting board of a multi-armed chef. I suddenly had seconds to live. But maybe a whole minute to live if –. I dove over the side. “Noooooooo!” screamed Rey bracing herself like a sailor trying to right the sails on a ship in a storm. She must have thought I’d died, but she kept her head, thank my Mistress, and hauled me across an arc of the circle so I could spring off and onto the ledge, then onto the stone walkway itself. I was numb and light-headed and probably heading towards unconscious – I cannot express to you how terrible this is for one of my kind – but I had not the luxury of that nightmare so I tried to stay conscious. “Obi, kill them!” hissed Rey with what sounded a lot like rage to me, and the owlbear obediently sprang to them, snapping and clawing. Egan also tried to cover me – to make sure these armored air golems would not leave their little island – with gouts of fire. It was hard to see if these had any affect on them, but they left me alone to shiver, to recover, and so I am thankful to these, my [I]s’thayen[/I], my “friends” in the Common, weak a word though it is in that language. I got my feet under me again, took some breaths, watched the ow–, watched Obi fight the two in such a way as they could not seem to land a blow on the low, thick-hided creature coiling and moving with surprising grace. It was as if he was just below where they could see. Rey leaped across the – OH GODDESS!! No, she was all right. Goddess. That was worse than the blades. She had leaped over part of the arc of the circle but stumbled and fell! She had only caught herself with one hand as the rest of her tried to plummet into the next world. I am hurt. Badly. Blood everywhere. I am in shock, I know. And that is why I reacted that way, neh? But . . . . perhaps Rey is more than s’thaya to me. A painful thought. Again? So soon? And I know nothing about her. Rey somehow retained and even stowed her spear then, using one hand and sheer force of will, pulled herself up from the ledge. She flexed her knotted muscles, re-brandished the spear – spinning it once or twice – and charged the two sentinels anew! I remembered to push closed my open mouth. If she could do that, I could shake off my own pain and help her. I got to my feet, stepped over to one of the fallen bridges, dashed to the end and flew over the gap firing into the back of the left one’s neck, landing gracefully on my feet. [I]Always trust your feet[/I], I heard my father’s voice again, and they did not let me down. Arrow after arrow through their backsides while Rey’s spear – drawing sparks – Egan’s magic and Obi’s fierce beak tore them apart. Their smoking armor at last fell into inanimate heaps at our feet. But would two more appear, and two after that? We were not ready for that. I had to sit down again, exhausted. Egan was hurt as well. And then Rey did the most curious thing. She knelt down in front of me with a look of concentration and gently placed her hands across the bleeding slashes. I felt a tingling. Then her eyes closed and she look a little surprised. I gasped, for blue lightning began flowing from the back of her neck down her arms straight into me. It was . . . ecstasy. I know much of healing by magic, by acolytes of different gods and goddesses, each imparting its own sensation. For Sehanine, it is a coolness that makes one restless and alert. It is wonderful, and others’ healing touches are wonderful in their ways, but this was different: this was blue fire and opium and lightning and a part of Rey herself and –. I don’t know what I would have done had Egan not been there. While I reclaimed my breath she applied her energy to Egan, but the effect on him seemed merely calming, and he looked at peace as when I watched priests of Pelor heal people. We circled the column of air waiting for additional guardians but none came, so I eagerly stepped in. What a feeling. The air became: it transformed into a soft caressing thing that propelled me up at a stately pace. It was noisy, its only downfall, but majestic too. Atop it was easy enough to hop off and look around. Eventually Rey and Egan joined me, and all of us saw essentially the same sarcophagus as presided over the various traps nearer the entrance of the place. It was at end of the tiny, otherwise empty chamber here. I had little interest in the place and said as much wishing to return to the search of Layla. “There is a place we haven’t looked yet,” Rey said. [I]Resh[/I]. The weight of the earth above, a tiny trapped elf below. Another test. “Very well,” I replied. “But before we go further underground, I need some fresh air.” So I tested the swirling air in the down direction where it worked perfectly. To my disappointment, it would not allow me to ride down past where we entered, perhaps to see its source, but gently ejected me back onto the island. Apparently Egan and Rey were making a discovery above: the other bas relief there had a stone head carved among them which turned to watch any who drew themselves up the small stairs to the stone- remains-holding-box. This sensibly spooked Rey back to the entrance in the floor – I would likely have done the same – but Egan seems obsessed with forgotten lore and so he remained to hear a clear voice in his head say to him, in Common, “Speak my name”. Allustan would likely know this bit of information. Meanwhile I was passing by the ankheg to spend some moments alone outside. I took in Her realm’s sound, its scent, the boundless sky and far horizon. Then I turned my back on it, as She apparently willed to me to do, and journeyed back in. Stepping into a small metal tube that speared deep into the earth was . . . terrible. There is none worse. My heartbeat, my hot breath, my choked sobs: they all radiated back at me squeezing out the remaining air from the already crowded tube. It opened at last to blackness, more stone, obstacle, failure. “No,” I whimpered softly. “No more.” But I remembered the wildly flying dagger that Miss Mischief sent, Her laugh, Her touch, and [I]her[/I] touch. I thought of Egan needing us here, needing me here. There was work to do. A giant stone slab blocked the only exit from this room. There was a opening, perhaps enough to allow me through but not anything permitting Egan or Rey. And I would not go alone. [I]Of course I will, if Layla be there somehow, but don’t ask this of me. Please.[/I] “What if we enlarge the opening?” I asked. “With what? We can’t break through that,” Rey stated. I turned to Egan. “What about your magic?” Egan shook his head. “Nay, lass: I doona possess power great enough to melt stoon.” “Maybe not magic then. What if there was something that could –. Oh!” I human I knew in another life was fond of saying, “It’s a million to one shot, but it just might work!” It was a ridiculous misunderstanding of odds but his enthusiasm made me smile even now. It just might work at that. We went back out – breathe, recover – and worked together to cart the remains of the ankheg off to the stone. I was able to extract the acid it had used on us and turn it to service against the rock. It worked! The passageway was now wide enough for us to all continue forward. “After you,” I said to them with a grin and little wink towards the moon somewhere above. [/QUOTE]
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