FIFTH ROUND (STILL)
THULWAR
The gnome prepares his quick concoction. As colors dance in front of him, the small creature of shadows and whispers watch as the thick substance glitters down the small, thin pipes, with impressive speed. Something below pulls the air from the ducts, turning the otherwise slow task into a moment's wait. The altar glows from its corners, faintly, bothering the sneaky creature a bit, denying the habits of his svirfneblin nature.
[Ok, I was re-re-reading all the sheets aaaand... Why all of your characters always have this sneaky line of work going on, [MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION]? This one has all sorts of 'hide me' spells, of course, whereas Marius is a shadow monk - the self-proclaimed rogue for the group, and I just assume Arvid sneaks everywhere, even to his fridge... Meh, don't even answer that, I see what you're up to! 
]
AANZU
The warrior realizes the enemy tries to regroup and he moves to intercept them, his concentration solely on defeating his foes. Thinking will come later.
Fast-paced, instinctive Aanzu reminds the lessons of his guiding spirit. Twelve were the salamanders the blue dragon was out to get. Six he killed, and six others ran down the cave. The dragon knew, though, his secrets were not for them. He made himself fast and sinuous like the serpent, but his spirit shone through, and lightning was born within the caves. The salamanders hid in water. He hammered it, seeing his own reflection, and embraced the entire lake with his wide arms. His bite reached all others, killing them and keeping his mystical secrets safe.
The lesson? Let no one escape.
Aanzu quickly finds one of the creatures, climbing a wall in an impossible way! It looks like a spider gliding through the surface. Aanzu can still reach the creature, if he so chooses. Looking up, he can't quite see where it goes, but he's sure it dug a shelter up there, destroying the remnants of an ancient culture in favor of survival, just like the despicable sand-fleas and the barbarians from the east. Damned creatures with no respect!
Aanzu cuts and slashes the poor creature, leaving the last of his strikes to sink into the flesh, pulling the coward down in an arching movement. The body slams down the floor, lifeless, the thick, green blood coursing through the fragmented panels in the walls.
Another rising soul comes along, dragging itself through the floor in spasmodic moves, moaning to itself some nonsense about death repeating itself. This one does not vanish instantly, though.
[Aanzu can use his second attack against the soul, since the first one killed the archer without effort]
ICOSA
He addresses the unseen speaker and says, "I seek knowledge of the teraphim, and their actions."
"What is there to know?" - the voice answers in a cruel tone. "Look around yourself. Look! This was their temple, their ... Sanctum! We were their faithful servants... And what did they do? Drove us to madness, experimented on us, brought us to our knees! Look! Look around! The ones you kill now are the results of their sick attempts at perfection! Look at the souls that served them in life! Slain where they stood for not meeting their standards of morality, of purity! Look at the blind archers that roam these halls! Made to live in the dark forever!"
Back at Wellington, the Teraphim are considered the judges of a fallen race, the executioners of mankind's punishment. For they used the gifts of the gods to enslave, kill and destroy, refusing the kind patronage of the messengers. These people, though, were known to have sought the company and wisdom of the Teraphim, building temples, abbeys, even cities, around the Inner Sanctum. Why would they suffer at their hands, if they only sought to learn, to grow better... To be more like the Teraphim?
EVERYONE
His voice grows a tone, reaching a note of old, rancid rage.
The door to the west thuds twice, as if many strong hands, many strong shields, bashed against it. The hasted sounds of a door opening can be heard, coming from the same direction. Icosa struck a chord without even knowing it...
"If we are aware of an exit," he says, "Why do we not take it? This room and its contents do not appear to have any value to us."
"Exit! I'll show it to you!" - thud, thud, the sound of shields and metal increases, numerous, dangerously numerous.
"There's only the below... There's only death! We've tasted it for decades since the Teraphim slaughtered us! We've live in a city of death and sorrow ever since! Come! The table is set! You'll join us, now, for there is
no way out!"
As the noise rises, a sudden interruption cuts the old voice, flooding the room with a strenuous female voice.
"WARNING! POSSIBLE MINERAL CONTAMINATION AT STATION 3! INITIALIZING LOCK-DOWN PROTOCOL! STAY AWAY FROM ALL EXITS! SCREENING AND DECONTAMINATION TEAMS ARE ON THEIR WAY!"
Lights cut the thick fog without revealing much. The flashes resemble the light cannons used upon Wellington's walls by the guard. If not for the vapors, they'd easily blind the heroes as they crossed mercilessly the hall.
Icosa recognizes the amicable voice that commands the lights performance. It holds an astounding resemblance to the one he heard when they first climbed the mountain... Aanzu, on the other hand, gets startled by a sudden move though the wall in front of him. Right above his head, a large frame awakens, becoming a living painting! He had seen such acts of illusion before, made to entertain the noble children of Sethmandu or to better reproduce war maps. Funny how toys and weapons are close things in Sethmandu... Still, the image dances in front of him, showing a clear image of an attractive soft-skin, possibly the image that goes with the smooth, yet menacing, voice.
Thulwar watches as the altar shuts its small entrances. The monk, stopping dead on his tracks, is the first one to hear it. Beneath the voice, the walls rumble faintly, and a humming sound can be heard, as if coming from the higher strata of the clouds.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" - the old voice screams as if competing with the female for the same mouth. On the west, what once was opened now shuts violently, echoing through the room.
"PLEASE, REMAIN CALM. THE SCREENING OPERATIVES WILL BE SHORTLY WITH YOU!"
Her image vanishes from the painting, and it begins to show strange allegories, that Aanzu can only describe as a set if animated shadowplay dolls, moving around as a series of explanations is presented in common language. "...that all individuals present pass through the first scanning of their bodies and vital signals. No on will be admitted within the Teraphim altar unless.."
[That's the spirit! Sometimes a little shake-up is the best remedy]
[MENTION=24380]Neurotic[/MENTION] [MENTION=6776182]JustinCase[/MENTION] [MENTION=6855102]Greenmtn[/MENTION] [MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] [MENTION=23298]industrygothica[/MENTION] [MENTION=8858]hafrogman[/MENTION]
