shilsen
Adventurer
The gigantic ziggurat broods in silence, the clamor of battle having been stilled for over two hours now. The animated plants and their vampiric minions now lie motionless again in the distance. Only the faint gurgling of the underground stream that divides the huge cavern disturbs the quiet.
Till there is a cracking sound at the rocky ceiling, almost instantly followed by the sound of pieces of earth falling to the cavern floor far below. The noise is accompanied by the appearance of multiple lights, made significantly brighter by their contrast with the unmitigated darkness all around. The source of the illumination is the collection of figures that emerge through a growing hole in the top of the cavern.
Nameless hovers in mid-air and turns to face the ziggurat, only a few hundred feet from where he is. Though neither his darkvision nor the others’ lights extend far enough to see it he can sense the strong emanations of the manifest zone, which he has been aware of even outside the hill far above. At this distance, the flavor of Xoriat is clearly palpable to the alienist. “It’s over there,” he says, pointing, “And there’s definitely a portal open.”
Enitharmon, wings flapping slowly as he hangs beside Nameless, growls, “I sense it too. There is great power here and great ….” He doesn’t complete the sentence, settling for a disgusted grunt. “We must destroy it.”
“That’s the plan,” says the shadowy form of Six, peering warily around the edge of the tunnel above them, as he hangs from its wall. “We’re going to be attacked sooner or later,” the warforged continues, addressing the entire group, “And when we are, let’s act together this time, okay? Nobody charge off without the rest of us – please!”
Korm shifts awkwardly nearby, moving back and forth as his cloaker-wings flap to keep him aloft. The Gatekeeper chuckles, “I won’t take that comment personally. And all right. I promise. Need a ride, Six?”
“That would be helpful.”
As Six clambers onto Korm’s back, a huge flying bear descends past them and Luna grumbles, her voice made tinny by Mordain’s tongue enhancement, which lets her speak in animal form. “Yeah, yeah – can we get a move on now?”
“Yes,” says Gareth, seated on her back, glowing brightly with silver flame which reflects off his armor. “Let’s do this.” The Endless Blade attached to his hand, now in the shape of a falchion, echoes the sentiment in its own way, “Yeah – let’s go f*ck something up!”
Enitharmon chuckles deeply and nods, darting forward and downwards. The others follow in his wake as swiftly as they can, and within a couple of seconds, they see the ziggurat ahead of them. For a moment, it looks exactly the same as it was – a gigantic structure of incredibly dark purple, almost black, stone. The Angels’ lights shine off the detailed carvings on its sides, depicting reptilian and simian monsters wrapped and cradled in endless coils of tentacles. The cracks in its structure are still clearly visible, with the pale, green sections of what looks like diseased flesh beneath.
But then the Angels notice that a few things are different. The channels which ran from the stream to the ziggurat, with water flowing up its ramp in defiance of gravity, are missing. The great slicks of tacky, dried blood on the ramp have been cleaned away, as has the putrid mold which once swathed two of the ziggurat’s sides.
“Someone’s been doing housework,” chuckles Korm as the Angels descend onto the ramp, though there is a grim undertone. He glances at Luna, “You didn’t by any chance stop by and clean, did you?”
The druid, having landed heavily and let Gareth off, transforms into her usual tendriculos form and shakes her gigantic head from far above him. “You wish!”
“Well, in that case…”
“Look out!” Six interrupts, flipping his spiked chain into a ready position as he points. Something that the others had missed, hidden in the radiance of their various light sources, was the faint green light welling from beneath the huge stone door at the top of the ramp, and even Six only notices it as the door begins to slide smoothly and swiftly upwards.
As it rises, it reveals a figure standing in the doorway. It is roughly human in shape and size, but the long and living whip-like creature attached to its arm, the breastplate that seems to grow out of its body, and most of all, the aura of sheer, abominable power that emanates from it, all combine to make its unnatural nature evident. The others recognize the general shape, having seen something similar a year ago on the island near Xen’drik, but Nameless instantly knows who it is. The faintly mocking expression in the lavender eyes is one he has seen multiple times earlier, and there is the faintest tickle of a familiar mental whisper which tries – but fails – to penetrate his mind blank.
The daelkyr lord Antaratma stands before them.
Before any of the Angels can respond, a few things happen in swift succession. With a loud battle-cry, Enitharmon shoots forward, blade swinging in an irresistible arc. Only to impact with a crash on the stone a few inches in front of the daelkyr, who quickly steps backwards further into the ziggurat. Enitharmon follows, howling his fury as he slashes again and again at the shape before him – a shape which, the Angels now realize, is faintly translucent.
Not that they have time to wonder what it means, as the stone door suddenly reverses direction and slams shut, hiding celestial and daelkyr from their view. Just as other problems appear to them.
Specifically to Nameless, whose magical sight reveals scores of magical auras appearing at the edge of the highest step of the ziggurat, fifty feet above him. The alienist shouts, “Enemies above! Three of them!” As he takes flight and rises upwards, the alienist sees the attackers in detail, their bald heads and inhuman features instantly identifying what they are. Trumpet archons! Or were, since leathery wings like Korm’s hang where large feathery pinions once were, and worms protrude from the holes which used to hold celestial eyes.
The three figures stand at the edge of the ziggurat’s top step, each holding a gleaming greatsword, and Nameless’ magical vision reveals two more shapes standing invisibly behind them. These two are mindflayers, each of them wreathed in dozens of magical auras as well, their facial tentacles displaying the characteristic amputations and embedded dragonshards which mark them out as arcanists.
“There are two more!” Nameless shouts, warning his allies as they rise after him, Korm flapping upwards while Luna lifts Six and Gareth along with her.
Unfortunately, that also puts them in prime position as the trumpet archons act in unison. For once, the Angels face enemies who all possess powerful magical power – much to their detriment. Nameless sees magical energy flare for an instant around each of the trio, and an instant later three kaleidoscopic bursts of energy erupt amidst the Angels. Clustered together as they are, all of them are within the area of the blasts, and even though their various protections help to resist most of the energy, most are badly hurt.*
Especially Nameless – who is significantly less durable than the others – and Six. While the combination of the warforged’s natural agility and his shadow-armor wards him against magical attacks such as a fireball, these spells attack the mind** rather than just the body. Though he fights off the effects of two spells, the third is too much for him and he collapses from his perch on Luna, only a sudden grab by a huge tentacle saving him from falling.
“Korm! Luna! We need healing!” snaps Nameless, knowing that another such combination of spells will kill him. Acting as swiftly as possible, the alienist calls on the powers granted him by his link to Xoriat and Cyäegha, his flesh straining and popping as eyes emerge all over his body and his arcane powers increase. And then, without pausing, he responds with the same spell that the former archons used.
An instant before Nameless casts, the mind flayers complete the spells they began too, striking him and Gareth with slashing dispels. Luckily, both of them lose only a couple each of their many protections.
Ignoring the pain that accompanies the dispelling, Nameless completes the spell and his radiant assault erupts among the enemies, its power maximized by his ring. But to his disgust, it washes uselessly over both of the mind flayers and one of the archons. And though the other two are affected, neither is taken out of the fight.***
Sh*t! Nameless drops down a little so that the others can reach him, saying quickly, “We need to heal and stop them casting – fast!”
“On it!” says Gareth. The paladin is the least hurt of the group, his aura of silvery flame having absorbed two of the spells and the other having only slightly damaged him. With a loud shout, he shoots forward, propelled by the Endless Blade like a shining meteor.
Charging into the archon in the center before it can raise its sword to parry, Gareth drives it backwards with sheer momentum. Calling aloud to the Silver Flame, he brings down his sword with tremendous force, smiting it and laying open the entire front of its chest. As the archon falls to a knee from the force of the blow, the paladin cries aloud in triumph.
His shouts are echoed by cries of recrimination and warning from his allies, busy healing each other and now a good forty feet behind him. And all well aware, though Gareth has forgotten it in the heat of battle, of Six’s admonition from only minutes ago.
Gareth realizes his error as the badly wounded archon looks silently up at him with its worm-eyes – and then surges to its feet, greatsword swinging. And its two allies step in too, flanking him on either side, replicating its attacks with almost perfect precision. Beset on three sides, there is only so much Gareth can do to defend himself, and as he blocks one blow, two others strike home, knocking him out of position for the ones that follow. As strike after strike batters through his armor or finds a gap in it, Gareth’s defense weakens. Blood sprays across the top of the ziggurat.
“Sh*t!” Nameless swears as a final slash sends the paladin down, to lie unmoving in a pool of gore. “We need Gareth up or we’re dead!”
“This is gonna hurt,” mutters Korm, wings flapping furiously. “Buy me some time!”
As he darts forward, spells from Nameless and Luna flash past the Gatekeeper, doing little damage but rocking the enemies back for a moment. A haste from Six speeds his movement and Korm hurriedly drops to a knee beside Gareth, channeling a heal into the fallen paladin. As he casts an amulet at his throat sparks into life, causing the healing energy to also flow into Korm, closing all of his wounds.
Gareth stirs and groans as he is restored too, and Korm snaps, “Get up – and look out!” The Gatekeeper throws himself backwards as the former archons again step in and three swords slash down.
Luckily for him, but unfortunately, not for Gareth. His position at their feet makes him an easy target as the three attackers again focus on the paladin with unerring precision. Their swords slash down again and again and though Gareth rolls desperately aside, trying to parry and strike back, he has no chance. In seconds, he again lies motionless.
Except for his head, which slowly rolls across the top of the ziggurat, leaving a streak of blood behind it. The Endless Blade screams.
“Damn! Somebody do something!” shouts Luna, tentacles desperately moving in the motions of a spell.
“What do you think we’re trying?” snaps Nameless, hurling another spell at the enemies around Gareth’s corpse and Korm, placing it with perfect precision so that it strikes them without touching the Gatekeeper. To the alienist’s frustration and despair, the enemies are either only slightly hurt or untouched. “Xoriat take them – it’s like they’re immune to our spells!”
But the Angels are not, and while the archons switch their focus to Korm, forcing him to retreat hurriedly, the mind flayers retaliate with empowered cones of cold which envelop the other three of their foes. Six leaps and spins with incredible speed between the blasts, emerging unscathed, but Nameless’ protections only help him a little and Luna – slow and lumbering in her current form – is badly hurt.
Korm barely notices what happened as he backpedals, desperately trying to keep off three greatswords with his own blade at once, and then suddenly they are gone. The archons turn and focus, using swift spells, causing magical downdrafts that drive the other Angels downwards. Luna, Six and Nameless strike the lowest level of the ziggurat fifty feet below with bone-jarring force.
“Look out!” Korm cries, as the archons plummet after them with half-furled wings like giant, humanoid hawks. Reacting instantly, Six’s chain smashes one in its chest as it descends, before curling around its ankle and pulling it off balance. Luna hammers with her tentacles at the others, trying to seize and crush them, but freedom of movement spells keep them out of her grasp and able to respond with their blades, ripping and tearing her part-frozen bark, wounding her critically.
Ignored for the moment, Nameless glares around in frustration, uncertain what to do. Maybe Luna can do something – if she’s alive. The alienist uses a limited wish, reshaping the arcane energy to achieve something he cannot normally do, warding Luna with a rejuvenation cocoon like the one the druids use. Three swords clang harmlessly against the translucent force-field and the archons hiss in frustration.
And promptly turn their attention on Nameless, surrounding and attacking him with the perfect coordination they have shown all fight. Six attempts to intercede, chain flashing back and forth at incredible speed, inflicting multiple – if shallow – wounds, but they ignore him completely. Already wounded, the alienist has no chance, going down in seconds, greenish fluid leaking from his torn and rent corpse.
Above them, Korm calls down his most powerful spell on the two mind flayers. One is unaffected, but the other screams as the horrid wilting rips the moisture from its body, and collapses in a desiccated heap.
Despite his attack, the remaining mind flayer ignores Korm, shifting its attention downwards and beginning to cast. In perfect tactical unison, the archons again shift their focus, leaping up and heading towards the Gatekeeper, ignoring the attacks that Six unleashes as they rise away. Almost before they are in the air, the mind flayer uses a swift true strike, followed by a maximized orb of fire. Six’s agility is useless against such an attack, and an instant later he lies in a smoking heap beside Luna’s cocoon.
Above, Korm attempts to flap away, but his enemies soar after him, faster and more adroitly than his cloaker-like wings can carry him. Ringing the Gatekeeper, the three archons bring down their greatswords with deadly precision, one of the blows almost cutting him in half. Korm falls out of the air, hitting the ramp of the ziggurat nearly a hundred feet below with bone-crushing force. Mordain’s protections or no, there is no way he could be alive.
Luna, safe for the moment, stares at Korm’s body and then around at her other companions’ corpses littering the area. I can probably take a few attacks from those bastards. I could leap out when the cocoon ends, grab Korm and maybe Six, and use master earth to get out of here! Or maybe I should grab Gareth? Mordain’ll be able to clone them, I think. But not his sword. But Nameless has the stuff from the dragons. We may need it. What ...
A rumbling sound interrupts Luna’s frantic thoughts. The doorway to the ziggurat is slowly opening. For a moment, the druid wonders if the planetar has survived, but the hope is short-lived. A roughly spherical object rolls out of the doorway and comes to a halt, rocking gently back and forth. Enitharmon’s head, eyes still wide in an expression of surprise that might have been comical at another time, stares back at Luna.
Behind the planetar’s decapitated head, the door rises to reveal the daelkyr. It seems more solid than before, with deep gashes crisscrossing its torso and dark green fluid dripping from the wounds, and it staggers drunkenly as it moves forward, but the wounds are slowly closing. Antaratma straightens, dropping the planetar’s greatsword clasped in its right hand, still smeared with the blood of Enitharmon. As its gaze takes in the scene, a pleased smile flashes across its inhuman face.
The daelkyr half-turns, raising its tentacle to the ziggurat above it, and its voice rings through the sudden silence. “The sacrifice is complete. The key is forged. The lock is broken. Arise!”
Luna stares, wondering what it is speaking to. And then, in the blink of an eye, something changes. A moment ago, the only thing she could see behind the daelkyr was the ziggurat, with its strange stone and huge steps and cyclopean carvings. And now, though it seems to retain its original shape, the ziggurat glows with life. Unnatural life, born and nurtured in cosmic madness, but life nonetheless.
In front of Luna’s disbelieving eyes, what was once stone flexes and then begins to flow apart. What were once steps are now gigantic coils, each of them twenty feet or more in thickness. What were blasphemous carvings are now patterns of scales, the smallest of them the size of a man’s head. And what was once a long, thick ramp begins to rise, reforming into a flat, serpentine head crowned with a forest of eyes and writhing tentacles.
To add to the horror of the sight, as this creature begins to rise, Luna sees each of her companions’ bodies visibly twitch. And then they begin to dissolve into streams of light, varicolored rivers of radiance shot through with bright silver, which flow inexorably towards and into the creature. As they touch it, the monstrosity pulses with energy, seeming to grow larger and more solid with every second. The daelkyr, now perched on the creature’s head, cries out, “Come, Mual-Tar! Feed on the bounty we have prepared for you!”
Luna feels a violent surge of agony and, to her increasing horror, sees a similar stream of light emerging from her body. It stops for a moment as it strikes the wall of the cocoon and then slowly begins to seep through.
Despite the excruciating pain, Luna’s primary focus is suddenly on the accompanying twitch she feels in her belly. The kids! I forgot about them! F*ck this – they are not dying here today! The shifter drops into a crouch, ignoring the creature outside as it rears up over the cocoon. The shifter shuts her eyes, focusing all of her considerable will on one single act.
Mual-Tar, the Chaos-Serpent, Destroyer of Worlds, sees nothing of this. Driven by desires and a hunger beyond anything that those in the cavern – even the daelkyr – can fully understand, all it sees is a tasty morsel. And though a magical barrier intervenes, such things have no power over it. Raising itself to its full height, its head brushing the ceiling two hundred feet above the floor, Mual-Tar’s jaws gape wide and it strikes.
The cocoon crumbles like sand under the attack, but as the globe of force collapses, Luna speaks one word. And as the Chaos-Serpent’s jaws close on nothingness, seven hundred feet above, a tendriculos appears in the sky of the Shadow Marches.
Luna tumbles out of the air, hitting the ground with tremendous force and leaving a huge crater. For a moment there is silence, and then a large, ungainly eagle flaps its way out of the hole and into the air. Luna painfully soars up and away. Khorvaire must be warned.
Behind her, the ground around the crater begins to shake.
* Three 14d6 Radiant Assault spells will do that to you.
** Radiant Assault is Save: Will partial
*** With his Aspect up, Nameless needed a 6 to get through the mind flayers and a 9 against the trumpet archons. It was some truly special rolling.
Till there is a cracking sound at the rocky ceiling, almost instantly followed by the sound of pieces of earth falling to the cavern floor far below. The noise is accompanied by the appearance of multiple lights, made significantly brighter by their contrast with the unmitigated darkness all around. The source of the illumination is the collection of figures that emerge through a growing hole in the top of the cavern.
Nameless hovers in mid-air and turns to face the ziggurat, only a few hundred feet from where he is. Though neither his darkvision nor the others’ lights extend far enough to see it he can sense the strong emanations of the manifest zone, which he has been aware of even outside the hill far above. At this distance, the flavor of Xoriat is clearly palpable to the alienist. “It’s over there,” he says, pointing, “And there’s definitely a portal open.”
Enitharmon, wings flapping slowly as he hangs beside Nameless, growls, “I sense it too. There is great power here and great ….” He doesn’t complete the sentence, settling for a disgusted grunt. “We must destroy it.”
“That’s the plan,” says the shadowy form of Six, peering warily around the edge of the tunnel above them, as he hangs from its wall. “We’re going to be attacked sooner or later,” the warforged continues, addressing the entire group, “And when we are, let’s act together this time, okay? Nobody charge off without the rest of us – please!”
Korm shifts awkwardly nearby, moving back and forth as his cloaker-wings flap to keep him aloft. The Gatekeeper chuckles, “I won’t take that comment personally. And all right. I promise. Need a ride, Six?”
“That would be helpful.”
As Six clambers onto Korm’s back, a huge flying bear descends past them and Luna grumbles, her voice made tinny by Mordain’s tongue enhancement, which lets her speak in animal form. “Yeah, yeah – can we get a move on now?”
“Yes,” says Gareth, seated on her back, glowing brightly with silver flame which reflects off his armor. “Let’s do this.” The Endless Blade attached to his hand, now in the shape of a falchion, echoes the sentiment in its own way, “Yeah – let’s go f*ck something up!”
Enitharmon chuckles deeply and nods, darting forward and downwards. The others follow in his wake as swiftly as they can, and within a couple of seconds, they see the ziggurat ahead of them. For a moment, it looks exactly the same as it was – a gigantic structure of incredibly dark purple, almost black, stone. The Angels’ lights shine off the detailed carvings on its sides, depicting reptilian and simian monsters wrapped and cradled in endless coils of tentacles. The cracks in its structure are still clearly visible, with the pale, green sections of what looks like diseased flesh beneath.
But then the Angels notice that a few things are different. The channels which ran from the stream to the ziggurat, with water flowing up its ramp in defiance of gravity, are missing. The great slicks of tacky, dried blood on the ramp have been cleaned away, as has the putrid mold which once swathed two of the ziggurat’s sides.
“Someone’s been doing housework,” chuckles Korm as the Angels descend onto the ramp, though there is a grim undertone. He glances at Luna, “You didn’t by any chance stop by and clean, did you?”
The druid, having landed heavily and let Gareth off, transforms into her usual tendriculos form and shakes her gigantic head from far above him. “You wish!”
“Well, in that case…”
“Look out!” Six interrupts, flipping his spiked chain into a ready position as he points. Something that the others had missed, hidden in the radiance of their various light sources, was the faint green light welling from beneath the huge stone door at the top of the ramp, and even Six only notices it as the door begins to slide smoothly and swiftly upwards.
As it rises, it reveals a figure standing in the doorway. It is roughly human in shape and size, but the long and living whip-like creature attached to its arm, the breastplate that seems to grow out of its body, and most of all, the aura of sheer, abominable power that emanates from it, all combine to make its unnatural nature evident. The others recognize the general shape, having seen something similar a year ago on the island near Xen’drik, but Nameless instantly knows who it is. The faintly mocking expression in the lavender eyes is one he has seen multiple times earlier, and there is the faintest tickle of a familiar mental whisper which tries – but fails – to penetrate his mind blank.
The daelkyr lord Antaratma stands before them.
Before any of the Angels can respond, a few things happen in swift succession. With a loud battle-cry, Enitharmon shoots forward, blade swinging in an irresistible arc. Only to impact with a crash on the stone a few inches in front of the daelkyr, who quickly steps backwards further into the ziggurat. Enitharmon follows, howling his fury as he slashes again and again at the shape before him – a shape which, the Angels now realize, is faintly translucent.
Not that they have time to wonder what it means, as the stone door suddenly reverses direction and slams shut, hiding celestial and daelkyr from their view. Just as other problems appear to them.
Specifically to Nameless, whose magical sight reveals scores of magical auras appearing at the edge of the highest step of the ziggurat, fifty feet above him. The alienist shouts, “Enemies above! Three of them!” As he takes flight and rises upwards, the alienist sees the attackers in detail, their bald heads and inhuman features instantly identifying what they are. Trumpet archons! Or were, since leathery wings like Korm’s hang where large feathery pinions once were, and worms protrude from the holes which used to hold celestial eyes.
The three figures stand at the edge of the ziggurat’s top step, each holding a gleaming greatsword, and Nameless’ magical vision reveals two more shapes standing invisibly behind them. These two are mindflayers, each of them wreathed in dozens of magical auras as well, their facial tentacles displaying the characteristic amputations and embedded dragonshards which mark them out as arcanists.
“There are two more!” Nameless shouts, warning his allies as they rise after him, Korm flapping upwards while Luna lifts Six and Gareth along with her.
Unfortunately, that also puts them in prime position as the trumpet archons act in unison. For once, the Angels face enemies who all possess powerful magical power – much to their detriment. Nameless sees magical energy flare for an instant around each of the trio, and an instant later three kaleidoscopic bursts of energy erupt amidst the Angels. Clustered together as they are, all of them are within the area of the blasts, and even though their various protections help to resist most of the energy, most are badly hurt.*
Especially Nameless – who is significantly less durable than the others – and Six. While the combination of the warforged’s natural agility and his shadow-armor wards him against magical attacks such as a fireball, these spells attack the mind** rather than just the body. Though he fights off the effects of two spells, the third is too much for him and he collapses from his perch on Luna, only a sudden grab by a huge tentacle saving him from falling.
“Korm! Luna! We need healing!” snaps Nameless, knowing that another such combination of spells will kill him. Acting as swiftly as possible, the alienist calls on the powers granted him by his link to Xoriat and Cyäegha, his flesh straining and popping as eyes emerge all over his body and his arcane powers increase. And then, without pausing, he responds with the same spell that the former archons used.
An instant before Nameless casts, the mind flayers complete the spells they began too, striking him and Gareth with slashing dispels. Luckily, both of them lose only a couple each of their many protections.
Ignoring the pain that accompanies the dispelling, Nameless completes the spell and his radiant assault erupts among the enemies, its power maximized by his ring. But to his disgust, it washes uselessly over both of the mind flayers and one of the archons. And though the other two are affected, neither is taken out of the fight.***
Sh*t! Nameless drops down a little so that the others can reach him, saying quickly, “We need to heal and stop them casting – fast!”
“On it!” says Gareth. The paladin is the least hurt of the group, his aura of silvery flame having absorbed two of the spells and the other having only slightly damaged him. With a loud shout, he shoots forward, propelled by the Endless Blade like a shining meteor.
Charging into the archon in the center before it can raise its sword to parry, Gareth drives it backwards with sheer momentum. Calling aloud to the Silver Flame, he brings down his sword with tremendous force, smiting it and laying open the entire front of its chest. As the archon falls to a knee from the force of the blow, the paladin cries aloud in triumph.
His shouts are echoed by cries of recrimination and warning from his allies, busy healing each other and now a good forty feet behind him. And all well aware, though Gareth has forgotten it in the heat of battle, of Six’s admonition from only minutes ago.
Gareth realizes his error as the badly wounded archon looks silently up at him with its worm-eyes – and then surges to its feet, greatsword swinging. And its two allies step in too, flanking him on either side, replicating its attacks with almost perfect precision. Beset on three sides, there is only so much Gareth can do to defend himself, and as he blocks one blow, two others strike home, knocking him out of position for the ones that follow. As strike after strike batters through his armor or finds a gap in it, Gareth’s defense weakens. Blood sprays across the top of the ziggurat.
“Sh*t!” Nameless swears as a final slash sends the paladin down, to lie unmoving in a pool of gore. “We need Gareth up or we’re dead!”
“This is gonna hurt,” mutters Korm, wings flapping furiously. “Buy me some time!”
As he darts forward, spells from Nameless and Luna flash past the Gatekeeper, doing little damage but rocking the enemies back for a moment. A haste from Six speeds his movement and Korm hurriedly drops to a knee beside Gareth, channeling a heal into the fallen paladin. As he casts an amulet at his throat sparks into life, causing the healing energy to also flow into Korm, closing all of his wounds.
Gareth stirs and groans as he is restored too, and Korm snaps, “Get up – and look out!” The Gatekeeper throws himself backwards as the former archons again step in and three swords slash down.
Luckily for him, but unfortunately, not for Gareth. His position at their feet makes him an easy target as the three attackers again focus on the paladin with unerring precision. Their swords slash down again and again and though Gareth rolls desperately aside, trying to parry and strike back, he has no chance. In seconds, he again lies motionless.
Except for his head, which slowly rolls across the top of the ziggurat, leaving a streak of blood behind it. The Endless Blade screams.
“Damn! Somebody do something!” shouts Luna, tentacles desperately moving in the motions of a spell.
“What do you think we’re trying?” snaps Nameless, hurling another spell at the enemies around Gareth’s corpse and Korm, placing it with perfect precision so that it strikes them without touching the Gatekeeper. To the alienist’s frustration and despair, the enemies are either only slightly hurt or untouched. “Xoriat take them – it’s like they’re immune to our spells!”
But the Angels are not, and while the archons switch their focus to Korm, forcing him to retreat hurriedly, the mind flayers retaliate with empowered cones of cold which envelop the other three of their foes. Six leaps and spins with incredible speed between the blasts, emerging unscathed, but Nameless’ protections only help him a little and Luna – slow and lumbering in her current form – is badly hurt.
Korm barely notices what happened as he backpedals, desperately trying to keep off three greatswords with his own blade at once, and then suddenly they are gone. The archons turn and focus, using swift spells, causing magical downdrafts that drive the other Angels downwards. Luna, Six and Nameless strike the lowest level of the ziggurat fifty feet below with bone-jarring force.
“Look out!” Korm cries, as the archons plummet after them with half-furled wings like giant, humanoid hawks. Reacting instantly, Six’s chain smashes one in its chest as it descends, before curling around its ankle and pulling it off balance. Luna hammers with her tentacles at the others, trying to seize and crush them, but freedom of movement spells keep them out of her grasp and able to respond with their blades, ripping and tearing her part-frozen bark, wounding her critically.
Ignored for the moment, Nameless glares around in frustration, uncertain what to do. Maybe Luna can do something – if she’s alive. The alienist uses a limited wish, reshaping the arcane energy to achieve something he cannot normally do, warding Luna with a rejuvenation cocoon like the one the druids use. Three swords clang harmlessly against the translucent force-field and the archons hiss in frustration.
And promptly turn their attention on Nameless, surrounding and attacking him with the perfect coordination they have shown all fight. Six attempts to intercede, chain flashing back and forth at incredible speed, inflicting multiple – if shallow – wounds, but they ignore him completely. Already wounded, the alienist has no chance, going down in seconds, greenish fluid leaking from his torn and rent corpse.
Above them, Korm calls down his most powerful spell on the two mind flayers. One is unaffected, but the other screams as the horrid wilting rips the moisture from its body, and collapses in a desiccated heap.
Despite his attack, the remaining mind flayer ignores Korm, shifting its attention downwards and beginning to cast. In perfect tactical unison, the archons again shift their focus, leaping up and heading towards the Gatekeeper, ignoring the attacks that Six unleashes as they rise away. Almost before they are in the air, the mind flayer uses a swift true strike, followed by a maximized orb of fire. Six’s agility is useless against such an attack, and an instant later he lies in a smoking heap beside Luna’s cocoon.
Above, Korm attempts to flap away, but his enemies soar after him, faster and more adroitly than his cloaker-like wings can carry him. Ringing the Gatekeeper, the three archons bring down their greatswords with deadly precision, one of the blows almost cutting him in half. Korm falls out of the air, hitting the ramp of the ziggurat nearly a hundred feet below with bone-crushing force. Mordain’s protections or no, there is no way he could be alive.
Luna, safe for the moment, stares at Korm’s body and then around at her other companions’ corpses littering the area. I can probably take a few attacks from those bastards. I could leap out when the cocoon ends, grab Korm and maybe Six, and use master earth to get out of here! Or maybe I should grab Gareth? Mordain’ll be able to clone them, I think. But not his sword. But Nameless has the stuff from the dragons. We may need it. What ...
A rumbling sound interrupts Luna’s frantic thoughts. The doorway to the ziggurat is slowly opening. For a moment, the druid wonders if the planetar has survived, but the hope is short-lived. A roughly spherical object rolls out of the doorway and comes to a halt, rocking gently back and forth. Enitharmon’s head, eyes still wide in an expression of surprise that might have been comical at another time, stares back at Luna.
Behind the planetar’s decapitated head, the door rises to reveal the daelkyr. It seems more solid than before, with deep gashes crisscrossing its torso and dark green fluid dripping from the wounds, and it staggers drunkenly as it moves forward, but the wounds are slowly closing. Antaratma straightens, dropping the planetar’s greatsword clasped in its right hand, still smeared with the blood of Enitharmon. As its gaze takes in the scene, a pleased smile flashes across its inhuman face.
The daelkyr half-turns, raising its tentacle to the ziggurat above it, and its voice rings through the sudden silence. “The sacrifice is complete. The key is forged. The lock is broken. Arise!”
Luna stares, wondering what it is speaking to. And then, in the blink of an eye, something changes. A moment ago, the only thing she could see behind the daelkyr was the ziggurat, with its strange stone and huge steps and cyclopean carvings. And now, though it seems to retain its original shape, the ziggurat glows with life. Unnatural life, born and nurtured in cosmic madness, but life nonetheless.
In front of Luna’s disbelieving eyes, what was once stone flexes and then begins to flow apart. What were once steps are now gigantic coils, each of them twenty feet or more in thickness. What were blasphemous carvings are now patterns of scales, the smallest of them the size of a man’s head. And what was once a long, thick ramp begins to rise, reforming into a flat, serpentine head crowned with a forest of eyes and writhing tentacles.
To add to the horror of the sight, as this creature begins to rise, Luna sees each of her companions’ bodies visibly twitch. And then they begin to dissolve into streams of light, varicolored rivers of radiance shot through with bright silver, which flow inexorably towards and into the creature. As they touch it, the monstrosity pulses with energy, seeming to grow larger and more solid with every second. The daelkyr, now perched on the creature’s head, cries out, “Come, Mual-Tar! Feed on the bounty we have prepared for you!”
Luna feels a violent surge of agony and, to her increasing horror, sees a similar stream of light emerging from her body. It stops for a moment as it strikes the wall of the cocoon and then slowly begins to seep through.
Despite the excruciating pain, Luna’s primary focus is suddenly on the accompanying twitch she feels in her belly. The kids! I forgot about them! F*ck this – they are not dying here today! The shifter drops into a crouch, ignoring the creature outside as it rears up over the cocoon. The shifter shuts her eyes, focusing all of her considerable will on one single act.
Mual-Tar, the Chaos-Serpent, Destroyer of Worlds, sees nothing of this. Driven by desires and a hunger beyond anything that those in the cavern – even the daelkyr – can fully understand, all it sees is a tasty morsel. And though a magical barrier intervenes, such things have no power over it. Raising itself to its full height, its head brushing the ceiling two hundred feet above the floor, Mual-Tar’s jaws gape wide and it strikes.
The cocoon crumbles like sand under the attack, but as the globe of force collapses, Luna speaks one word. And as the Chaos-Serpent’s jaws close on nothingness, seven hundred feet above, a tendriculos appears in the sky of the Shadow Marches.
Luna tumbles out of the air, hitting the ground with tremendous force and leaving a huge crater. For a moment there is silence, and then a large, ungainly eagle flaps its way out of the hole and into the air. Luna painfully soars up and away. Khorvaire must be warned.
Behind her, the ground around the crater begins to shake.
* Three 14d6 Radiant Assault spells will do that to you.
** Radiant Assault is Save: Will partial
*** With his Aspect up, Nameless needed a 6 to get through the mind flayers and a 9 against the trumpet archons. It was some truly special rolling.
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