shilsen
Adventurer
But at least there are no gnomes! See - always a silver lining.Sidekick said:Demon wastes!!!
Would you like fries with that? or perhaps a life insurance policy.
now would be the appropriate time to start discussing what poeple want done with their bodies when they die.
And here's the last bit from the previous session. I got slowed down this week with lots of grading.
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Kaelyn lifts an amused eyebrow. “You need to go to the Demon Wastes? I presume then we won’t be seeing you again. You sure this is worth it?”
“Yes, we believe it is,” says Nameless.
“So you are sure the rakshasas are gone then?” asks Titania, sounding mildly disappointed.
“The Key is, and I think it’s safe to assume they went with it.”
“At least let us see what else is here then,” says Oberon. “There may be more entertainment.”
As the Angels move to the door, Luna growls, not in warning but to attract attention. Turning to look, they see her pointing to a spot on the carpet that her claws had ripped through during the battle. The carpet is slowly repairing itself, the torn spot fading as ripped threads reconnect themselves.
“Very nice!” says Six. “A self-repairing carpet. I presume you want us to take it, right?”
Luna gives Six a big ursine grin and a nod. The warforged picks up the carpet and stows it into a bag of holding.
“She’s probably thinking of the apartment in Sharn,” says Gareth, which gets an even more emphatic nod.
“Great!” mutters Korm. “We’re taking home furnishings from rakshasas now!”
With that taken care of, the group proceeds carefully through the door. Over the course of the next hour, to the apparent disappointment of the eladrin and, to a lesser extent, Kaelyn, they search through the entire complex, finding no signs of any other enemies.
Much of the area has clearly not seen recent usage. Among the rooms in this category are a small dining room, designed for two diners, and an almost empty pantry, both to the north of the chamber with the golems.
The single room to the west leads into an empty chamber with no other exits, its walls decorated with pictures of spellcasting rakshasas, and a single large pentagram carved into the floor. This room is free of the abjuration which blocks teleportation-type magic in the area, evidently used for magically entering and leaving the complex. Though the room is magically kept clean, there is enough of a trace for Six to identify that two pairs of booted feet traveled from the center of the pentagram to the door very recently, probably only hours ago.
Behind the eastern door are the more interesting rooms. One is a comfortably appointed sitting room, though this one too has not seen much use. It is very quickly stripped of two smaller versions of the large self-repairing carpet, these ones also bearing examples of stylized, abstract artwork.
Beyond this one is a bedroom, the most lavish chamber that they have seen so far. Here they find the first clear indication of recent activity, with some clothes from an open pair of cabinets strewn on the two beds, and open drawers and empty chests littering the room. Checking for magic in the chamber, Nameless detects a number of lingering auras.
While he is doing so, Six finds a smaller hidden chamber underneath the room, completely empty and featureless except for a concealed (now empty) compartment. This area is also free of the teleportation-blocking abjuration.
“There’s a conjuration aura here too,” says Nameless. “This is where they must have teleported out of. Nice system – keep a little bolt-hole that you can use for escapes. I assume that compartment held an escape package.”
Luna, having changed back to shifter form, looks down at him and says, “Yeah, yeah, they’re really smart – I got it! More importantly…,” she holds up a rolled rug, “We got more carpets! For the apartment!”
Gareth, still examining the bedroom, comments, “You know, you’re way more interested in interior decoration than I would have guessed.”
Six and Korm, who have gone through the other door out of the room, reappear. “Nameless – we need you to look at this.”
Following them, the group enters the largest chamber in the area, apparently a huge arcane laboratory. It too seems not to have been used for a long time, large sheets having been pulled over the long desks and tables in the area, pulled aside in a couple of places to reveal the equipment, reagents and other paraphernalia that they cover. A doorless antechamber set into the middle of the far wall has a half-drawn curtain separating it from the main chamber.
Most eye-catching of all is a huge map that stretches across one of the walls, intricately painted and carved (since it is slightly three-dimensional, protruding an inch from the wall). Nameless eyes it carefully and says, “That’s the Demon Wastes. Is that what you wanted me to look at?”
“No – this,” says Korm, walking over to the antechamber and pulling the curtain the rest of the way across, to reveal a chamber ten feet long and wide. Unlike the walls of the laboratory, which are the same gray color as the rest of the complex, these walls have a bone-white pallor. And they are covered in some kind of writing. There is no sign of what implement was used, but the thin streams of blood-red letters, interspersed with diagrams and figures, cover the entire area.
“I’m thinking this could be important,” says Korm, “But we can’t read it.”
Nameless walks over and studies the walls for a few seconds. “It’s infernal. But in an extremely archaic script.” Just a little smugly, he adds, “I can work it out.” He turns in place, running his eyes quickly over the various sections. Then he stops suddenly. “Gareth!”
“What?”
“Gareth,” repeats Nameless. “It says ‘Gareth’ here.” He reaches up and touches a particular line, running his finger over it. “This bit says….”
The alienist stops abruptly. As his finger passes over the stone, the script beneath his fingers disappears, leaving blank whiteness behind. Intrigued, Nameless runs his finger over the stone again, this time pushing down on it. This time, a red streak appears behind the finger.
“Fascinating!” says Nameless. “This thing is like a giant piece of reusable parchment. You write on it by exerting pressure and erase what’s written by rubbing over it.” He points at the rest of the writing. “You just need a stylus or even a pointed stick and you can use this entire chamber as your writing pad.”
“Or a claw,” says Six, indicating how thin and precise the red lines are.
“Yes, a claw.”
“That’s all very interesting,” says Gareth, the tone belying the words, “But what did it say about me?”
Nameless rolls his eyes and then goes back to the wall. “Actually it mentions…,” he runs his eyes over the wall, “…all of us.” His fingers stab at various points, making sure not to actually touch them. “Six. Luna. Korm. Me. Even Corven.”
“This really irritates me,” growls Luna. “I hate people following our moves.”
Nameless studies the writing a little further and, though his expression doesn’t change, his tone grows slightly more clipped. “Not following. Predicting.”
“What?”
Nameless points at a particular section that has a complicated diagram, stretching from where the wall meets the ceiling, eight feet above, to the floor. “Gareth. And me. We’re listed there. And there are arrows joining us, with smaller ones joining Six and Corven to me. And where they first meet, it says ‘Mugging.’”
“Mugging,” says Gareth slowly, clearing not liking what he is thinking. “You three helped me when I was attacked by muggers. So what makes you think that’s not just a listing of info. Why’s it a prediction?”
“Because of the following bit where it lists ‘Travel to Sharn’ among three possibilities and marks that the most likely.”
“Great. Where do I come in?” asks Luna.
Nameless continues to point out details. “The section after that draws connections between us and people in Sharn. Lalia and Tasra. Trillia. Many others. I think it’s mostly predictions again. There are a few names I don’t recognize, and there are symbols I think representing the chances of the various relationships happening.”
“You didn’t mention me,” reminds Luna.
“I’m getting to it. You come in … here.” Nameless smiles slightly. “This should make you happy. I don’t think that was expected. It looks like something was erased and your name added, and there’s a comment saying ‘New addition,’ next to it.”
“Good to know,” grunts Luna.
Nameless looks a little closer and then says, “Except that there’s then a small section saying, ‘potential link to Gatekeepers’. Which then…,” he follows a particular looping of complicated lines and symbols, and says, “…later brings in Gurr’khan, Surr’kal, and Trillia. That’s around where you come in, Korm. Corven seems to … let me see … yes, he disappears after that.”
“I knew meeting you bunch would get me in trouble,” grunts Korm. “So, is it all just about us?”
“No,” says Nameless, turning again to look at various sections. “This bit is all about astrological positions. And here’s a small chart of names I don’t recognize. This is a list of names by location. All in Breland, but not Sharn. And this one is a really big list of people in Sharn. With all sorts of connections drawn between them.” He runs his eyes up and down the list and says, “Just about everyone we know, and then some.”
“Hold on,” says Six, thinking of something. “Is Kylian in there?”
Nameless checks and shakes his head. “No.”
“Wonderful,” says the big warforged. “Even the rakshasas can’t track the damn gnomes! Or don’t want to risk it.”
“Well, Thurik Davandi’s listed, if that makes you feel any better.”
“You might think so, but no, not really.”
“And guess what … surprise, surprise … here’s a listing of people we got involved with on the trip to Xen’drik.”
Luna, who has got bored with these details, has wandered over to the tables to remove the covers and check the contents. Now, she interrupts. “Hey, guys! Here’s something else that might be interesting.” In her hands is a crumpled collection of parchments. “I found these behind those instruments.”
She continues, “Nameless will need to read it,” as she riffles through and tries to straighten the pages. “It’s the same as on those walls, so I can’t read….” Then she stops, looks carefully at a page, flips to the next one and the one after that, flips back, and begins to read over them again.
“Found something in Common?”
“Yes. And a few other languages. Elven and orcish, I think. Does this sound familiar?” Slowly, Luna reads aloud:
“Prophecy dances around you. Some fulfill, some are fulfilled, and some flee - the choice is yours. Where present and future spark, where light is turned to dark, to the ghost of the city where the past await. The chamber may hold you, make you or break you. Beyond sky and sea you go, but only to your roots return. Face dream and madness, dust and death; use them against each other, as they use you. You already carry destruction within you, but without it you may fail. The sword is the key, but the key is not the sword. Dragon's wings.”
“Oh hells!” says Gareth. “They even have a record of the prophecy Flamewind gave us?”
“Not just Flamewind, remember?” reminds Six. “That Teraza woman … who you said is a hag … the one associated with Daask … she wrote something like that for us too.”
“It’s not a record,” says Luna. “It’s the final version.”
“Huh?”
“Drafts,” says Luna, her tone turning angry, as she rips out the pages that she has been flipping through and holds them up. “I just read you the final version. The rest are drafts. Earlier versions. Starting with just a couple of sentences and slowly getting to the final version. With notes on the sides about all the ways it can be interpreted and what groups it could be thought to refer to. We got the final version.” Her tone is no louder, but is livid by the end, “The best one.”
“These guys wrote the prophecy we got months ago?”
“Yes. But not months ago. There are dates next to the drafts. The first one is five years old. The last one’s three years old.” Luna tosses the papers to Six, looks up at the ceiling, clenches her fists and snarls. “Grrahghh! I hate the feeling that someone’s been controlling me!”
Kaelyn, who has been listening silently, and partly uncomprehendingly, with the two eladrin, finally says, “I don’t quite understand, but this is somewhat entertaining.”
Luna turns to her with a growl, but Korm is there to grab the shifter by the arm before she can do something Kaelyn, and then probably the Angels, will regret.
Nameless, having picked up the parchments, says, “Finish searching this place while I take notes from the wall and of the map. There might be some other useful things like these papers in here.”
He is right, but the other discovery has no resemblance to the papers. Among the many things they find in the laboratory is a large basin that holds four preserved limbs, two arms and two legs. Moments afterwards, they find the source.
Lying on its back under a covering cloth like just another piece of equipment is the torso of a humanoid figure. It lacks not only arms and legs, but ends at the waist. Moreover, it has been skinned, revealing muscle and flesh that has dried and mummified over time. The one addition is a thick strip of muscular flesh that has grown over the mouth and teeth, making it impossible for the creature, whatever it was originally, to speak or even make a sound.
As if that were not enough, its eyelids have been removed, leaving the blankly staring eyes in their sockets, without any way to close. To the horror of Luna, who is the one to find it, the eyes are alive, rolling wildly and madly, with no signs of recognizing her or the fact that there are now people around it.*
After a few seconds of studying it, Gareth says, “I should try to see what it is thinking. It may help in our quest.”
Korm looks into the eyes, clearly insane, and grunts, “Better you than me.”
Gareth breathes a quick prayer to the Flame and concentrates, reaching into the creature’s mind. And then recoils, rubbing his temples. “Damn! All I pick up on the surface is pain. Whatever it is that’s keeping it alive in this state, it hurts. A lot!”
“Let’s just put it out of its misery,” says Luna.
“Yes,” says Gareth, “We should. But there was something beneath the surface. I should make sure.” He takes a deep breath and then concentrates again, mentally gritting his teeth as he delves into the creature’s tortured and fractured mind, or what remains of it. For a couple of seconds, Gareth pushes mentally through the barrier of pain, almost retching in reaction as he feels himself surrounded by a miasma of endless ripping, tearing pain. Grasping quickly at whatever floats in the mist of pain, the paladin finds two words – which he realizes are names – being repeated constantly, “Zathara” and “Nethatar.” Besides that, there is only one endless roiling insane scream of pain.
When Gareth emerges from the contact, he is gasping for breath, the veins standing out on his forehead and a splitting headache raging within it. He draws Kizmet and says thickly, “Rest in peace,” before neatly decapitating the creature.
Its head rolls on the floor, revealing that even the internal sections of the creature had been mummified. For a few seconds, the eyes continue to roll, making the Angels wonder if even this will not kill it. But then, thankfully, they slowly roll up and go blank.
“Have you got everything, Nameless?” asks Gareth.
“Yes.” Nameless looks over at Oberon and Titania, who seem to have lost their normal state of flippancy with this particular sight. “Can you destroy this place?”
“Yes,” says Oberon. “I will.”
Kaelyn, who also now seems more serious than she has been at any point previously, says, “And while we will not go to the Wastes, we will help you along the way. It looks like you could use it.”
*****
A little over two hours later, the Angels stand over a hundred miles to the northwest, in an open, sparsely wooded area. To their south and east runs a chain of mountains, spanning the horizon. Kaelyn, standing near them, points north and west, to the highland plateau they are on the edge of, a network of canyons and mesas forming a giant natural maze.
“That is the Labyrinth. Beyond lie the Demon Wastes. This is as far as we can take you.” With uncharacteristic seriousness, she bows. “It has been an interesting meeting. Luck to you. You will need it.”
Then she walks over to join Oberon and Titania, sitting their horses and watching silently a short distance away. They too bow slightly, and then all three shimmer and turn shadowy, gradually fading into the vegetation around them.
“As they said,” grunts Korm, “That was interesting.” He turns to gaze at the Labyrinth. “Why do I get the feeling the next few days will be even more so?”
* This is when Luna’s player said OOC, “What the hell is it with all these damn creatures?” and Gareth’s player said, “It’s not them. It’s just Shil!” Guilty as charged
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