carborundum said:
That update was a joy to read - the characters just get more and more real - you're getting mighty good at this!
Thanks. I can't take all the credit in that update, since a lot was taken from the forums we use for handling stuff between sessions, so I was using stuff written by the players. But I did throw in some things, as I do in every writeup, to give a better sense of the individual characters. It definitely helps that they're all so very distinctive.
Nice Benny Hill ending too
It just seemed the appropriate response. Lalia is fun to NPC
And here's the next bit (in 2 parts, since the forum is misbehaving) ...
* * * * * * * * * *
The next morning, the Angels gather in Nameless’ conjuration chamber. Except for Luna, who has been sent off to inform Gurr’khan that they will be a little late for their planned meeting in the park, grumbling and protesting that she wants to be there to “see Nameless’ brain come out of his ears.”
Attempting to prevent that from occurring, the alienist first uses a
limited wish and then a
contact other plane, trying to contact Cyäegha. Once he completes it, the alienist feels his consciousness expand, accompanied by the mildly narcotic pleasure that always accompanies his use of this spell. His vision darkens and then the chamber around him quickly fades, replaced by a dark gray expanse. In front of him hangs the glowing web pulsing with light, which represents the reservoir of cosmic knowledge that he is currently in contact with. The web is unusually bright this time, with literally every sections illuminated, since Nameless is attempting a supremely high degree of contact.
As always, there is a growing physical pressure inside his head, which disappears suddenly. And then comes the expected mental command –
Ask.
Nameless waits for the irresistible force that transported him the last time that he attempted this spell, into contact with Cyäegha. But nothing happens.
After a few seconds, the mental command repeats itself –
Ask.
Perhaps the disappearance of the aura means my link to Xoriat has changed. Uncertain what he can do about that, Nameless searches the area around him. And then he notices another thing that is different. A section of the dark gray space, ‘below’ the gleaming web, is shot through with tiny flickers of green and purple.
Let’s try this, then. Nameless concentrates on that area, attempting to break through to Xoriat and Cyäegha by an exercise of will.
As he concentrates, Nameless’ consciousness drifts forward and down, passing through the web of light and nearing the section of grayness that has drawn his attention. The purple and green flecks seem to increase in number and size, and then he runs into a solid obstruction. Or, more precisely, a glutinous one. It gives slightly at the impact but holds firm. Nameless concentrates and the barrier bends gradually, but it does not break. The alienist continues to focus, feeling a slow headache begin, and again the obstruction is stretched but still holds.
Finally, Nameless considers utilizing prepared arcane energy in an attempt to break through. He uses his most powerful summoning, trying to channel the energy into the obstruction. Instantly, he feels the invisible obstruction rupture and tear around him. The grayness dissolves into pure blackness and Nameless shoots forward into it. As the darkness surrounds him, giant tentacles appear, reaching out towards him. Everything goes black.
…
Back in Sharn, the others watch warily as Nameless’ eyes go completely black, and he shudders slightly. “I wonder if that’s how things are supposed to go,” says Gareth.
Six shakes his head mechanically. “Nothing we ever do is how things are supposed to go. As long as he doesn’t grow tentacles, I’ll be happy.” He glances at the appendage that grows out of Nameless’ left shoulder. “More tentacles, I mean.”
…
The darkness clears, and Nameless finds himself back within the gigantic cavern, right in front of the giant eyeball of Cyäegha. Though the alienist himself cannot see a physical form in the position he occupied, he realizes that the huge orb is focused on him. As before, the first sensation he feels is the wave of cosmic, but impersonal, evil. Then it passes and there is only the consciousness of Cyäegha bent to consider the interloper.
Behind the crushing weight of the Great Old One's gaze, Nameless detects a tinge of amusement and, overlying it, expectation. As before, a pounding sensation fills the alienist’s head, which resolves into words. “You. Return. Hu-man. What. You. Desire. ?” Also, as before, Nameless feels his consciousness beginning to crumble.
I don’t have much time.
…
Gareth, Six and Korm watch drops of blood appear at each of Nameless’ nostrils. “Should I try healing him?” Gareth whispers, “I am not about to attempt any mental contact with him, though I am sure he would laugh if I attempted such a thing – and probably dare me to do it. He said this being he encountered was pure evil, so maybe casting a
protection from evil would help Nameless. Especially if this thing tries to control his mind.”
Korm shrugs. “Honestly, I have no clue. I don’t think anyone in the world really would, and even Nameless is mostly playing things by ear, I feel. But try it if you want.” He adds, “If you blow up or something, I’ll put you back together.”
“Thanks,” Gareth mutters sarcastically, “That makes me feel much better!” Then he casts a
magic circle against evil on himself and slowly moves closer to Nameless, letting the aura envelop the alienist’s form.
…
Nameless replies to Cyäegha, “I have a bargain to offer you. There are few with the will and the strength to be able to survive your presence long enough to make such an offer, fewer still who can reach out to Xoriat. I need information and power, of which you have an unlimited amount. In exchange I offer you what you don’t have and can’t possess on your own.”
“Limitations.”
“You are ‘All-Seeing’, but that is the same in many respects as seeing nothing, as you found earlier when you were unaware of my presence. It takes limitations to give vision meaning. When my natural life span has passed, you will subsume me and my limitations will then give your vision meaning.”
Cyäegha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, and Nameless has the inordinate pleasure of realizing that he has just managed to momentarily stump a Great Old One. Being in Cyäegha’s presence makes it easy to pick up its – for lack of a better word – emotions due to the sheer force it exerts, and right now it is clearly attempting to understand a concept that is significantly alien to it.
Finally, it again focuses on Nameless, and he again finds his consciousness beginning to bend under the weight. “Why. Limitations.? Need. No. Limitations. Need. Nothing.” There is another surge of amusement tinged with cruelty. “You. Here. Now. Can. Absorb. Now.” A giant tentacle rises languidly from the forest of them that stretch below the gigantic orb and reaches up towards Nameless.
The tentacle momentarily fills the alienist's vision as it passes through him, and there is an intensely draining feeling. But then the tentacle and the feeling are gone, though the weakness remains. And Cyäegha’s gaze. Which is touched for a moment by curiosity and then amusement, similar to that felt by a child seeing an ant perform an unexpected trick. “Not. Fully. Here. Now. Rare. Interesting.” There is a pause, and Nameless gets the sense that Cyäegha is attempting something that it very rarely – or never – does. “Listen. Will. I. What. Want. You?”
…
Even though Nameless is now fully within the magical circle of protection, there is no visible effect. Other than that more drops of blood are beginning to appear from the alienist’s nostrils, forming a sluggish stream that begins to drip onto the floor.
“This can’t be good.” Gareth places his hands on Nameless, with just a moment’s hesitation, and then channels some healing energy into the alienist.
…
Nameless asks, “First, I need to know exactly what the aura in my chest was.”
There’s a pause as Nameless waits for an answer, and then an excruciating pain. Through the agony, he realizes that Cyäegha is plumbing his thoughts and memories. The piercing ache slowly drops to a dull throb and Cyäegha’s mental voice speaks again. But now the manner of speech is changed and its tone is significantly different. And familiar. It takes a second before Nameless realizes that the voice being used by Cyäegha, even if distorted, is his own.
The voice says, “This is better. Now I can speak to you in your language. Such an ineffective method. Very crude. Perhaps I can modify you for better...,” it pauses, “...no, perhaps later. The aura was a ... perhaps the best word is ‘seed.’ It is born of the daelkyr that first brought you to me – which planted it in you. And also of the one in your mind. It was to lay roots in your world and branch forth to mine, sundering the walls between the dimensions, again allowing the daelkyr and their hordes to travel to your world.” There is a pause and then it adds dismissively, “Frivolous fools.”
Not a fan of the daelkyr, then. Maybe I can use that in some way. “Thank you,” says Nameless. “If this ‘seed’ was a gate to Xoriat, I need to know how to close it or how to prevent it from opening.”
“It is not a gate. Now that it is planted, once it is come to full form it shall break the barriers. The old gates will open and new ones can be created. From your world to ours and from ours to yours. I have not created the seed, so I know little of its working, but perhaps slaying the daelkyr it is born of will destroy it. Or weaken it. Perhaps.”
Oh, great! “What is the name of the daelkyr?”
“Which one? The one who brought you to me the first time, or the one whose imprint is in your mind?”
So my facsimile was a daelkyr?“The one that planted the seed in me.”
“Antaryami, the Formless One, who brought you to me the first time in your form is the one who planted the seed in you. He is twin to the one that marked you – Antaratma, the Nameless one. And, I see, gave you your name.”
“Can we get to the Daelkyr before the seed has blossomed?”
“Antaryami? He dwells here on Xoriat. You and yours cannot travel here yet. You are here as consciousness only and soon will fade from here. Antaratma is bound below the surface of your world, and he has a connection to you and perhaps the seed. But I know not how long it will take for the seed to blossom.”
“Does the Daelkyr have any special vulnerabilities?”
“None more than any other daelkyr, and less than most, since both the Formless One and the Nameless One are lords of the daelkyr. What you call holy weapons should harm them.”
“What is the location of the seed on my plane?”
“I do not know. I can see much, but not all at once, so I do not always know where what I see is. And it has not blossomed, so I have not seen any manifestation. It may plant itself where the sources of your power come from, perhaps where Antaratma marked you.”
The Mournland! Nameless tries to commit everything he has heard to memory, but it’s significantly difficult. The constant throbbing headache is getting stronger, and his consciousness is fading. Even so, he notes that it has done so much more slowly than last time.
That bears investigation. I wonder what else has changed.
…
Gareth looks at the others, a cloth held to Nameless’ nostrils, which is swiftly turning red from the blood now streaming from them. A slow stream is also emerging from each ear. “I can’t stop it, magically or otherwise, and it’s getting worse. It’s probably a byproduct of the spells he’s using.” He grimaces. “Of course, since he’s doing something that, as far as I know, nobody on the planet has been able to do in the last 7000 years, and what very few people were dumb enough to do before that, I’m mostly just guessing.”
“Maybe I should try a
heal after all,” says Korm.
“Perhaps, but Nameless was insistent that you not use that spell on him even if something happens,” points out Six. “Do you have any idea why? Does the spell have any negative effects?”
“Not that I’ve ever heard,” says the Gatekeeper. “But who knows what applies with Nameless. Shall I try it?”
...
Lacking a body, Nameless cannot raise a hand to his throbbing head, where pain is beginning to turn into agony. Instead, he attempts to somehow extend his tenuous grip on consciousness and continue asking questions.
He asks hurriedly, “I need to know what happened when I was killed by Emrena the Red. Was I killed? Why did I not stay dead? And I need to know the location of her phylactery. And what form it takes.”
“Emrena’s last attack did slay you. It was the beat of your heart which kept the seed from being planted, so when it was no longer beating, the seed left you and planted itself in your world. You did not stay dead because Antaryami changed you when he found your essence floating in Xoriat after your first death, before you became conscious. He planted the seed in you and made you so that your soul could not truly depart your form after death until the seed was planted. So while the seed was planting itself, your soul remained within you. That allowed the changes made to you by the Fleshweaver to take effect, and so you rose again. You are...,” there is a moment of amusement, “...lucky.”
Yeah, I feel so lucky now! thinks Nameless, as Cyäegha continues, “Emrena’s phylactery is a small carved blue gemstone. It is on what your people would call the island of Farlnen, in the Lhazaar Principalities, inside an undead dragon belonging to the Lady.”
By the time the answer, short as it may be, is completed, Nameless can see nothing more. But before he can descend into complete darkness, he makes a last request, one that he has been planning to make ever since he last encountered Cyäegha. “The creatures I can summon with conventional spells are only shadows of the real entities of Xoriat. I wish to bind to my service an entity that is more fully of Xoriat. Something not bound by the restrictions of more pedestrian creatures.”
Though he cannot see Cyäegha any more, Nameless hears its – his – voice reply simply, “The bargain is made. I have marked you for my own.”
And then all thought and awareness ceases.
