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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Old One" data-source="post: 268504" data-attributes="member: 83">Session 17 (Part Three)Doom?A violet bolt of fiery force blasted Sextus from one of the elevated chairs.  The bard fell the stone floor in a heap, wisps of smoke rising.  Quintus cried out, slid from his chair and met Lew at his brother’s side.“W-w-wait!  We mean you no harm…why are you attacking us?”“Thou didst fail to heed my early warning and now thou come armed into my sanctum.  You will all die!”  The dwarf raised his hand and violet fire flared anew.Rowan and Rosë moved forward to flank the dwarf, but a word from Quintus stopped them.  The sorcerer began to gather his will, but was reluctant to begin a full-scale battle.  The power displayed by the strange dwarf was potent.  Lew worked feverishly on Sextus.  “He’ll live,” he whispered to Quintus.The sorcerer slowly rose and faced the dwarf, hands spread wide, palms up.  “Twice you have attacked us and we have offered no violence in return.  You have named us assassins, yet we have made no move against you.  Why do you seek to harm us?”The dwarf kept his fist raised, but a troubled look passed across his face.  “Thou art human, yes?  Thou comest from the city above, yes?  Thou speakest with honeyed words…but thou wilt not fool me again!”The dwarf jerked slightly and began to whisper to himself, “Yes…kill them all…send them to the dance with the others…they mean to harm you, to kill you…send them to the dance!”The voice that whispered was different from the deep baritone of the dwarf and the language pattern differed.  Quintus continued to speak in calm, measured tones, trying to reassure the dwarf that they meant no harm.  He responded first to Quintus, then to the sibilant voice, resulting in a bizarre three-way conversation.  The rest of the party held their collective breaths and waited; ready to spring to Quintus’ defense.A great internal struggle was clearly visible on the dwarf’s craggy features and his whole body shook.  He made no more aggressive moves towards the party, but the violet power continued to pulse about his hand.  A quarter turn of the hourglass passed and then the deep thrumming sound shook the building and broke the tableaux.As the third rumble faded, the dwarf looked up with clear eyes and spoke through gritted teeth, “I cannot hold mine hand in check much longer…thou must flee before all control is lost!”Quintus motioned the others back.  Rosë and Rowan carefully backed away while Lew pulled Sextus through the open doorway.  “How can we help you?  What keeps you enthralled?” The elder Scipio implored.“Through the threads thou must pass to find that which you seek,” the dwarf gasped, beads of sweat streaming down his brow, “Now go!”Violet fire flared from the dwarf’s eyes and Quintus quickly backed from the room, pulling the door shut behind him.  To his relief, Sextus was propped up against the balcony wall, pale but awake.  Quintus began to relate the dwarf’s words to the others, but was interrupted by a primal scream from behind the doors.“I don’t think we should stay here,” said Rowan.The others nodded their agreement and they quickly moved to the far side of the statue overlook.  The ranger looped a harness and Rosë helped him lower the others to the base of the immense dwarven statue.  Rowan grunted from the strain as the Brigante shimmied down the rope.  He then repeated his earlier trick, using the rope and a column to reach the floor.They discussed the meaning of the dwarf’s cryptic comment in the shadow of the statue.  Several ideas were brought up and discarded before Sextus caught Quintus’s eye.  “Isn’t it plain, brother?  He is speaking of the tapestry!”They quickly moved from the statue chamber to the room with the immense floor-to-ceiling tapestry stretching the width of the room.  The tapestry depicted an idyllic pastoral scene with wooded hills in the background and lush green fields in the fore.  A large tower rose from a low hill in the center of the work, with a white stone road winding its way back from the lower edge.  Several groups of dwarves stood, backs to the party, gazing at the tower.After carefully examining the fabric, Rowan grasped the lower edge, pulling it up and out.  Sextus ducked down and looked behind.  “Blank stone.”Rowan released the tapestry and looked at Quintus.  “What do you think?  Through it?”The sorcerer shrugged, “It’s worth a try.”The ranger stepped forward to the tapestry, positioning himself directly in front of the white stone path.  He placed his fingertips tentatively on the fabric.  Aside from a slight tingling sensation, nothing happened.  Rowan glanced over his shoulders to see the others watching him expectantly.  He wiped his sweaty hands on his breeches, placed his palms on the tapestry and pushed, hard.For a moment, nothing happened.  Then, Lew gasped as Rowan sank into the fabric and disappeared.  The hair at the nape of Rosë’s neck stood on end; the young Brigante had never seen such a thing.  Quintus shook his head slowly, “Who’s next?”Rowan could actually feel the threads of the tapestry sliding though his body…a most unnerving sensation!  It was akin to striding upstream against a fast-flowing current.  He stumbled slightly as the tension of the fabric released him and his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword.  The vista before him bore little resemblance to the colorful tapestry.He quickly picked out the main terrain features, but everything…the sky, the trees, even the grass…was muted and dull.  It was as if a mad artist had splashed the land with a gray wash.  He turned and looked behind him, half expecting to see Sextus, Quintus, Rosë and Lew staring back at him from the tapestry room, but the bleakness stretched off into the distance.Five turns of the minute glass later, the companions huddled on the dull field.  Rosë’s plain face bore a look of barely repressed terror.  Passing through the tapestry had almost unmanned the barbarian.  A palpable oppressive pall hung in the air and seemed to dull their senses.  Quintus reached out with his mind, searching for Severus, but could not sense his sea eagle.  Sextus pushed a feeling of dread from his mind and struck up a quiet tune on his hand harp.The diminutive bard started walking towards the only structure in sight, the charcoal tower rising from a low hill two leagues distant.  Without looking over his shoulder he called, “Coming?”Suppressing grins at the irrepressible spirit of their companion, the rest of the party fell into line and followed.To Be Continued…Next: The Tower~ Old One</blockquote>

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