Non-Iconics Adventure. Dungeon of the Fire Opal Part 3

[Jalon Odessa]

Jalon stands alone, in pitch darkness, the magical green flame of his torch strangely absence. He tries to reach out for a wall or some sort of support, something to guide him through this otherworldly night, but finds nothing.

Groping blindly through the chill darkness, Jalon feels an odd sense of deja vu - the dank, humid stench of the place is eerily familiar, and yet the priest cannot place it. Reaching instinctively for the sword hanging at his belt, Jalon is suddenly terrified by the prospect that his sheath is empty.

Alone, stranded in the darkness and weaponless, the warrior-priest presses on, hoping to find some end to this ordeal.

It is then that an unfamiliar, hauntingly beautiful woman's voice echoes through and around Jalon's head, the priest unable to pick exactly where it originates from, as though being spoken to from all directions at once.

'Do you feel lost, priest?'

Somehow, Jalon reaches down past his terror, and answers -

'A servant of Tyr is never lost.'

'A foolish answer from a fool, but nothing less than I expected. You cannot escape this place - you will succumb to the same fate as your friends...'

With that, somehow, materialising through the darkness, a grisly image appears before Jalon's eyes. A trail of blood leads towards an oddly familiar double-handed sword, staind with blood and ichor. Next to the sword lies a large body, face down, of strange shape and colour, yet again vaguely familiar - caked in blood and gore. Startingly, Jalon recognises the hulking form as belonging to his travelling companion, Ubaar - rage builds inside the priest, which quickly turns into a sickening, gut-wrenching horror.

Next to Ubaar, unmoving yet unmarked, pulled taught into a paroxysm of anguish, lies the face of Kytess, cold and pale. All about lay the forms of his other comrades - the halflings Taz and Sollir, the tattoed form of Ivellios the elf... the silent monk, Murhid, lays slightly apart from the others, his neck rent and twisted at an unnatural angle

The carnage of the scene is unnaturally horrifying, and yet Jalon cannot bring himself to look away.

'What sorcery is this!? Show yourself so that I may take justice upon you!

'Justice? What do you know of justice, mortal?

'In Tyr's name, show yourself! Do not mock me!' A rage builds within Jalon, his voice rising to fever pitch. Jalon's voice, and yet not Jalon's voice - it is as though another is speaking through the priest, another guiding his hand. Jalon becomes utterly unrecognisable to himself.

'`In Tyr's name` indeed.... A shadowy form steps out of the darkness towards Jalon. A female face, still shrouded in darkess begins to step closer. Although unable to make out the features, Jalon can see that the face is repulsively ugly yet strangely beautiful, like no creature he has seen before. Through unmoving lips, the woman-creature speaks again, with a slight chuckle.

'Tyr's name? Your god cannot help you here...

The group is awakened by the rooster's cry as the sun breaks the horizon. For once, the light coming in through the windows is bright and yellow. The rain is over, at least for now.

Jalon awakes with a start, to find himself shivering and covered in a cold sweat - his bedsheets soaked through. It takes a moment for the priest to get his bearings, still chilled to the bone by a barely remembered dream.

Lying awake for some minutes before moving to the common for breakfast, Jalon tries at first to piece together the events of his nightmare, and then to block them from his memory altogether.

~~~

The party would be returning to the ruins soon enough, and Jalon is sure of but one thing - that the witch.... sorceress, daemon... whatever she was, would pay. She would pay dearly.

 

[Murhid]

Now awaken, Murhid stands half naked in his bedroom, next to the counter with the washbasin on top. Both hands go into the basin, and he slowly laps water over them. Hands cupped and filled with water he washes his face, and most of his upper body; several drops of water plummet to the ground and splash on the wooden floorboards. Murhid then notices that the elf hasn't returned yet, though does not worry. He grabs his coat and quickly 'swings' it on, checks that all his possessions are accompanying him and are not left in the room. After the checking, he opens the room's door, and then takes a single step out; narrowing his eyes as he adjusts to the brighter conditions. If any of the companions are present in the hallway he greets them with a nod, and then makes his way downstairs for breakfast.

 

[Doppleganger]

Ivellios hops in the air to snatch a bright red apple from a tree. He mistimes the jump and sails past the apple, leaping much farther up than he expected. He floats down in a gradual arc before landing softly in the feathery green grass of the meadow.

He turns around and tries again. This time he jumps up even higher, bursting through the branches and leaves of the tree, soaring much higher up into the air beyond. He spreads his arms out to his sides and glides across the sky, drifting horizontally over the treetops.

Flapping his arms a few times like a bird, he finds that he can climb up even higher. He ascends upwards into the silvery clouds.

Feeling adventurous, he turns and spirals downwards, spinning faster and faster as he drops. The rolling green farmlands zoom up quickly from below. At the last minute he arcs his back and swoops away to the side, narrowly missing a shrub-covered hilltop.

A flock of blue and purple birds join him. The colorful little sparrows chirp and screetch happily as they follow alongside. Ivellios turns and smiles at them. The birds wink back.

Ivellios tries to say, "Hi little birds!" But no words come out. Instead, a fiery red ball of crackling flames billows forth from his mouth. The sparrows are burned into blackened little clumps of twisted flesh and bones, their corpses fall down and away.

Ivellios is horrified. He tries to turn and fly back towards the shrub-covered hill, to land somewhere and feel solid ground beneath his feet again.

But his arms seem to have a will of their own. They only flap harder, now guiding him right towards a small village of simple peasant folk going about their daily routines.

His arms take him in a low arc down across the village. He tries to shout out a warning, "Take cover!" But instead, more flames gush from his mouth, a great fireball that sears the flesh right off of the villagers and lights up the thatched roof houses into a roaring inferno.

He drifts downward like a falling feather and lands on the ground amidst the ashes of the ruined buildings and the smoldering bodies that lie scattered across the streets. Collapsing to his knees, he weeps.


Ivellios wakes and wipes the streaming tears from his eyes, tears that do not befit a warrior of Corellion Larethion. He pulls the small silk prayer cloth away from his body and pushes himself out from under the altar table under which he slept. Looking around at the vaulted walls of the church, he wonders where he is. Spotting a priest of some sort nearby, the elf approaches and speaks, "Excuse me sir, where am I?"

 

[HeavyG]

Looking around at the vaulted walls of the church, he wonders where he is. Spotting a priest of some sort nearby, the elf approaches and speaks, "Excuse me sir, where am I?"

The boy stammers, "Y...yo...you're in the church of Chauntea, mister. The inn is th...t...that way."

He points towards the large double doors that lead out.

On the church's roof, a sparrow is singing.

 

[HeavyG]

Slowly, people begin filing in the inn's taproom.

First, Murhid, then Taz, then Jalon...

A table at the far end is occupied by a small group of tough-looking men, obviously travelers, eating breakfast.

Soon after you sit down, the innkeeper's wife exits the kitchen with a large platter bearing freshly baked bread, eggs and other things.

(Everybody heals 2 hit points and 1 point of ability damage.)

(Also, great work on the dreams . 100 Xps each.)

 

[CRGreathouse]

Kytess finally wakes, greatful for the ability to sleep in - something she is seldom able to do. After making a quick check of her posessions, she dresses and puts on her chain shirt. She carries the rest of her posessions down to the taproom, where she sees the two groups.

Coming over to her group's table, she sits down near Murhid and begins breakfast.

 

[Murhid]

Murhid acknowledges Kytess with raised eye brows and a slight grin. He then starts eating his food; several slices of bread and some meat. While eating, he occasionally eyes the 'travelers'.

Quietly he says "so how many more days are we to rest in this hamlet?"

 

[CRGreathouse]

"Until Ubaar heals, I assume."

Noticing Murhid looking at the other group, Kytess asks:

"Who are those people, anyway? Off-duty guards?"

Kytess continues her meal.

 

[Murhid]

"Maybe"

Murhid takes a drink from his waterskin.

 

[CRGreathouse]

"Speaking of Ubaar, where is he? And where's Ivellios - are they just sleeping in later than I am?"