D&D 5E [IC] Creamsteak's Princes of Elemental Evil

Maighan came over to where Miles was talking to the gathered initiates, a bit too tired and sore to offer much of her own. The cult had been far more entrenched and established than she'd have thought possible, and it boded ill for the others. At first she'd thought this was some kind of 'copycat' cult, fueled by someone using tales of the old Temple to inspire a few followers with baseless tales of limitless power.

There was clearly much more to it than that. Maighan was no scholar, studying history in old books by candlelight, but she had availed herself in what lore she could of the old Temple and it's conquering. This cult was operating FAR differently, and one might argue, far more intelligently. That was a worrisome sign.

She would need to send a message to Mossroot...that was his name, yes?...she thought it was. Another druid would take up the message and send it on, and so it would fly on the wings of sparrows and eagles and crows until it reached the deep groves where the trees of memory stood like pillars holding up the heavens.

What was happening here would be known, though Maighan knew better than to expect help any time soon. The elder trees were inundated with such missives, and constantly considering which merited action, and which did not. The fact that a druid was here even now meant those ancients would almost certainly decide to wait and see if she could handle the situation...if they decided the situation was worth even that much attention.

She herself was not yet convinced this represented a threat to more than this valley and the handful of towns within it. She was beginning to see though, how it could be. Someone might have recovered bits of the old Temple's lore, or power...and found a way to cultivate it in secret.

If so, then this was all just the beginning.

Maighan blinked and roused herself from her thoughts. Miles' interview was proceeding, and she wanted to hear what they had to say...though given the answers so far, and the other fanatics whom they'd faced in this cult, she doubted it was anything good.
 

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~ Even more confusion! Miles was still tired and drained from the damage the spell had wrought over his body. In truth, upon seeing Maighan arrive at his side, he was immediately more relieved: in his addled state he was not sure if he was properly picking up on everything that was happening, and Maighan and her companions seemed to know more of what was going on here than himself and Kubeba.

" A war? And a Prophet? No, no; there will be no war. Whatever you were told regarding such, it will not happen. I will not let it happen." Miles shifted his weight on his boots, still feeling the soreness in his bones. He was not aware of any kind of "war" between elements, but he wasn't about to let one break out, no matter if he could barely stand. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to the Druid who had saved his life.

" Do you know anything about a Prophet, this war they're talking about ..?" he asked her, knowing that this was no longer sounding so innocent. ~
 

"The Prophet...I believe was the leader of their cult," Maighan answered, watching the initiate for some sign if she was correct in her assessment.

"The war between elements is actually, if I understand right, an ongoing conflict between elemental cults, like this one was. Unfortunately, I joined this expedition after their contact with some of the other cults, but I am somewhat informed of what happened."

She considers, then adds, "If the cults are actually at war with one another though, that is interesting news. I wonder if we can use that when approaching the others."
 


Carradoc has needed the rest, and when he wakes from his sleep his mind is focused, and instantly he begins to pore of the tome that was left behind. The spell book is disconcerting. He knows the texture of vellum, and though it is written on some sort of skin, it is not from an animal normally put to this purpose. He spits on the ground, conflicted about the wisdom inside and the disgusting and possibly horrific nature of the object he holds.

His curiosity wins out, and he spends more than an hour rapidly turning pages. The incantations are sensible to him, but are written in a way that seem to unfold a new way of thinking about magic. He's thrilled, and he instantly begins scribbling notes in the margins of his own spell book, as new ideas begin to flow.

When he's done, he is glowing, and perhaps a bit maddened, but the enthusiasm with which he speaks, and the confidence of his vision cheers all the group.

"Four factions! A war, and no means to pick between them. We must not be gulled! But together, we few, have been able to weaken two sides in this contest. Now, lest we grant favour to a side that deserves it not, we must continue this quest, confident that we are right! Onward, I say! Onward! To destroy the other factions. We must break them..."

It seems not to matter to him whether others share his enthusiasm. Carradoc's fervour proves contagious, and even if one doesn't accept the content of his words, all who hear him are cheered.

(+10 temp hp to each of the party.)
 

Dent reappeared from somewhere and, crossing his arms, blinked at Carradoc. "What's got you in a snit?" Dent's eyes fell on the vellum-paged tome Carradoc had. "You been reading that?" Suspicion of the book steeped his tone.
 

"The Prophet...I believe was the leader of their cult," Maighan answered, watching the initiate for some sign if she was correct in her assessment.

"The war between elements is actually, if I understand right, an ongoing conflict between elemental cults, like this one was. Unfortunately, I joined this expedition after their contact with some of the other cults, but I am somewhat informed of what happened."

She considers, then adds, "If the cults are actually at war with one another though, that is interesting news. I wonder if we can use that when approaching the others."

~ " Well absolutely none of that sounds any good. If there is some sort of ... Elemental War going on, I don't think we should be letting in run unchecked. Nor the soldiers ..."

Miles looked over the Initiates, pondering. Hesitant. He knew the safe thing to do, but he also knew the right thing to do. He made his way back to the throne and scooped up the elegant spear, Windvane, brandishing it on high above his head. The cultists appeared to respect the wielder of the artifact, and he was not above using that fact.

" If you are indeed warriors for this cult, then let it be known that you have lost this battle," Miles informed them, " Consider this your surrender. Disperse, and remember the mercy that has been shown to you on this day. Return to your previous lives, and spread this conflict no further. Peace will triumph in this war, no cult, no element. Remember this, and seek to continue this battle no longer."

Miles lowered Windvane, feeling the light spear mold to his grip in an uncharacteristically comfortable way.

" Have I made myself clear?"

"Four factions! A war, and no means to pick between them. We must not be gulled! But together, we few, have been able to weaken two sides in this contest. Now, lest we grant favour to a side that deserves it not, we must continue this quest, confident that we are right! Onward, I say! Onward! To destroy the other factions. We must break them..."

Miles's expression softened slightly at Carradoc's words. Aggressive words. He was not entirely sure if speaking of destroying the other cults would make his own demands for peace and surrender go over very well. Still, he had a point: Carradoc mentioned tangling with a cult before this one of the Air. Per the Planes, that left 2 Elemental Cults, and if their leaders were as magically powerful as the Queen they had just fought, Miles certainly did not relish rushing at them unprepared.

" Perhaps there may be a way to make them disperse without tackling them head-on," the soldier thought aloud, resting against the Spear. He was still so damnably tired, and the twitch in his legs betrayed the electrical current still playing puppet with his muscles.

" It seems that the Initiates, if they are like these here, have no orders of their own. If we could stop the Leaders of these culti--"

Dent reappeared from somewhere and, crossing his arms, blinked at Carradoc. "What's got you in a snit?" Dent's eyes fell on the vellum-paged tome Carradoc had. "You been reading that?" Suspicion of the book steeped his tone.

Though injured, Miles immediately gripped Windvane and his shield, settling behind the defensive armament and resting the spear atop, pointed at the newcomer. When he addressed Carradoc with familiarity, however, the soldier was given pause. Though his dark eyes never left Dent, his posture did relax a bit, tilting the weapon towards the ground.

" Friend of yours, I take it?" Miles asked a little unsurely of his new-found companions. ~
 


"So it is simply a matter of bringing the other two groups low as well?" Kubeba asks with a puzzled frown.

As the newcomer appears and noting the lack of surprise on the part of his new companions, he shrugs at the new arrival. Not sure what to make of him he shrugs and dismisses him.

"What do we do with these?" his axe sweeps across to indicate the cultists. "Surely we cannot let such poisonous individuals free to restart this madness elsewhere?"
 

Dent reappeared from somewhere and, crossing his arms, blinked at Carradoc. "What's got you in a snit?" Dent's eyes fell on the vellum-paged tome Carradoc had. "You been reading that?" Suspicion of the book steeped his tone.

In a rather uncharacteristic way, Thaliss shouted verbally "Dent" getting close to the warrior, he couldn't help but slap him in a friendly way on the shoulder. Catching his composure, Thaliss continued telepathically for all except the soldiers to hear Indeed this is a friend of ours! Dent, I am glad to see you my friend. I was afraid that something had happened. Where in the world did you go all this time?
 

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