Another fin hits, and another, each tearing through once-strong defenses to shattered the weakened body beneath. Snapping and horrible pain, and then… peace. For Galthia, everything goes black.
He opens his eyes to find himself in a circular chamber constructed from green stone. The are no doors, no windows, no furnishings. In the center of the chamber floats Galthia’s master, levitating with legs crossed and face peaceful.
Galthia quickly runs his hands across joints that were broken mere seconds ago. He looks up his master, who he has not seen since he departed the monastery in Limbo so many months ago.
“M.. master?”
The old githzerai does not open his eyes. Instead he bobs in thin air, serene. “Where are you?”
Galthia can unfortunately remember the liquefying spell and the assault of Klububble. “Dead.”
The Master makes a thin hissing noise. “Idiot. Is this the serene oneness of which we have been promised? Where are you?”
Still confused and disoriented from his death, Galthia answers without thinking. “Limbo.” His Master says nothing for a moment, scorning Galthia’s answer with silence instead of words.
“Do not guess. You have not spent decades of training in our hidden monastery to ‘guess.’ KNOW. Where are you?”
The monk’s brows narrow. His order understands – beyond mere faith, beyond hope – that if a person truly wants something that they can achieve it. This is the mantra of the Acolytes of the Fist, and everything from their philosophies to their fighting styles have been built upon this fundamental belief. Galthia looks at the walls, focuses his will, and the answer is suddenly obvious.
“I am in the stone that was given to me by earth prophet Silissa, the elemental weird.”
The old man gives what might pass for a smile, his long gray mustache twitching. When he opens his eyes, they are the same color as the agate walls. “You are. This is a place that your soul might bide for a time, before it passes on or returns to your body.”
“It honors me that you are here with me.”
“I am no more real here than my speech. We have done Silissa’s folk a boon in the years that have past us, and now she pays the debt. Time will erode these walls, and perhaps you will pass on to the stillness, but she foresaw this moment and chose to offer you sanctuary for a time.”
They sit in silence for a time, Galthia keenly aware that his heart is not beating. The old man studies the younger monk. “You have your own debt to repay. It is not a debt of kindness.”
Galthia meets the stony gaze with equanimity. He says nothing, but takes the ceremonial listening posture.
“Ahead of you is a city of illithids. Many were our sons who went there in a rrakma, when the way was opened to them by your companion Nolin Benholm. None of our sons returned. And yet the the illithids were largely destroyed or chased from that place, for the damage that the rrakma did was grievous indeed. Eight of those that went on that journey were from our monastery; one was your friend.”
Galthia nods.
“I believe that some of our children are still there, alive and used as slaves. They have not been released to the Stillness. You will pass near or through that place. Do what you must to secure their release, in body or spirit.”
Galthia nods again, and places one fist atop the other. “I shall.” He also begins to float, and time uncountable passes. Galthia examines his life and death, counts his blessings and sins, and waits for what comes next.
* * *
“Quick! Someone heal him!” Velendo is cradling what is left of the monk’s head in one of his hands. “Mara, how did you miss his eyes?” The beautiful radiant knight shrugs uncomfortably.
“Fine details isn’t my specialty.” Behind her, Nolin smothers a chuckle. As healing energy courses into the obviously dead Galthia, his skin nevertheless begins to regrow.
“It’s working! Let’s get him conscious!” Velendo casts a powerful prayer, and new yellowish skin knits itself out of faith and nothingness. Still injured, Galthia opens his eyes, which have returned to their normal grey. “Heh. I thought we lost you.”
“You did.” Galthia tries to sit up, begins coughing spasmodically, and coughs out a greenish pebble onto the plaza’s pavement. The rock crumbles. “Silissa’s gift saved me. What happened?” Galthia is both briefed and healed.
Nolin breaks into the conversation. “We have a few interesting things. Magical shields and armor. The royal Crown and Sceptre, various stones and trinkets, all sorts of stuff. We still have to get over to the Glass Pool, and there’s a whole lot of kuo-toa between it and us right now. I think they’re being held back by Thoobel at the moment. If they turn on us, though, we’re royally screwed.”
Thoobel approaches, back straight and wide fins flapping proudly against the pavement. He is bloody from his vicious fight against Blel-plibbit’s reinforcements, but he doesn’t seem to feel the pain. Both bulging eyes gleam with manic joy. “We have done it!” He slaps Malachite hard enough on the back to make his teeth rattle, and reaches down to pat one of the fingerlings in Stone Bear’s pocket. The tall kuo-toa raises his voice, so it can be heard by all the kuo-toa present.
“My people!” Thoobel’s croak echoes across the plaza. “The pretender is destroyed, killed by these upworlders who have acted as the hooks of divine justice!”
“If he turns on us,” mutters Velendo, “I’m sealing us off from them with a sovereign wall. He better not betray us.”
Thoobel continues. “Now I am the one who is blessed by the Sea Mother! And thus I crown myself as King of Glubyal, King of all the sons of the mighty Sea Mother. I invoke her blessing, for I ascend to rule you!” And as he makes the announcement, Thoobel lowers the massive Crown of Tides onto his slimy brow, and then lifts Blel-Plibbit’s massive spear over his head with both hands. The massed gogglers cheer for a few moments in an odd and resounding croak, but it abruptly quiets from the direction of the crowd closest to the Glass Pool. The kuo-toa massed in that direction suddenly part, pressing themselves flat against the pavement in abject submissiveness. Something must be coming, but nothing can be seen.
“What is it?” asks Tao. “There's nothing there.”
“Hang on,” answers Agar, who has cast true seeing. “Let me focus my vision onto the ethereal, and… holy cow!”
The halfling blinks in disbelief. He had become accustomed to the plainness of Glubyal, the lack of any decorations at all. When seen through the ethereal, the place is alive with color and decoration! Tall and graceful strands of misty seaweed dance in extra-planar tides, and alien kinetic sculptures designed to move and dance in the ether’s flow are everywhere he looks. An extraplanar fish swims by, fighting the still-strong ethereal winds. Even the palace’s walls are heavily decorated when viewed this way. They must see into more than one plane, realizes the halfling. They walk through their art all the time. When we first came in and saw that human statue of the warrior hanging in mid-air, it must have been supported by something ethereal. Wow.
Then the little alienist’s eyes bulge, because he sees what is striding through the midst of the kuo-toa. A polished malachite statue twenty feet tall, half naked woman and half lobster. An avatar of Blibdoolpoolp herself, or a divine servant, or just an animated statue? Agar isn't sure, but it's fully on the ethereal plane. Agar whispers what he sees to the others. Stone Bear’s views the animated statue through his spirit sight, and shakes his head with dismay.
“That’s no mere statue, folks. Whatever she is, she’s possessed with power.” The statue slowly makes her way towards them, kuo-toa flattening themselves to the ground as She passes.
Velendo gulps. “I’ve got my wall ready, just in case. Stay firm. This is Thoobel’s show, and She’s probably coming to approve him. Or something.”
Thoobel sees the form of his Goddess coming, and he nearly swoons in religious ecstacy. “Beloved Sea Mother! I have done your bidding, and I await you! Bless me, Queen of Tides!” The huge ethereal statue of Blibdoolpoolp silently pauses before Thoobel, towering above her servant. The massed kuo-toa around them raise their croaking voices in some sort of hymn, and Thoobel throws back his arms in supplication to his Goddess. As Agar and Stone Bear watch, Blibdoolpoolp’s statue reaches one massive claw down towards Monitor Thoobel, to touch him and raise him above the others, to confirm his place as king of the kuo-toa.
To all of the Defenders watching Thoobel, it’s as if his head jumps from his neck in eagerness. Only those who can see into the ethereal can view the stone claw opening, fastening around the Monitor’s neck, and squeezing. Gray fluid fountains from the stump of his neck, and Thoobel’s body smacks against the pavement like a week-old fish. The singing kuo-toa all groan simultaneously, an eerie howl that echoes through the plaza.
“Holy crap!” exclaims Nolin.
“I guess he wasn’t the favored one after all,” muses Stone Bear. “Watch out, everyone; she’s turning towards us.”
Velendo raises his hoarse and tired voice. “Great Sea Mother…” he begins.
Unseen by the cleric, Blibdoolpoolp’s statue reaches down.
To be continued…
