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Message: <blockquote data-quote="shilsen" data-source="post: 4244630" data-attributes="member: 198">Xagygyrag smiles an amused smile. “You can leave when I say so.” He extends a claw for the haversack, and taking it, casts a spell. The haversack opens and its contents begin to appear of their own accord, the scrolls unrolling themselves in mid-air before the dragon as they are opened one by one. He looks at each, squinting slightly at the comparatively tiny writing, and then the scrolls neatly reroll themselves and descend to form a growing pile beside him.Finally, once all the contents have been examined and considered, the dragon looks back at Six. He sniffs a little dismissively and says, “Not particularly valuable, but I will take them. Being able to avoid having to scribe minor spells is a blessing, and I used some valuable ones before our little encounter earlier. But you can keep this one.” The word of recall scroll floats over into Six’s hand. The others rise and settle back into the haversack. Xagygyrag speaks the words of another spell and a horizontal line of light, amber in color, appears beside him. The light expands swiftly, creating a square six feet long and wide. He casually tosses the haversack at the light, which it passes through and disappears, as if it were a portal. The dragon then reaches into the light, and with some awkwardness, produces a stone slab half as long and wide as the doorway of light. Arcane symbols cover its surface, though Six cannot recognize them. Xagygyrag places the stone slab on the floor of the chamber between Six and himself, and says, “And here we shall make our bargain. Here is my end of it.” The dragon reaches up and scrapes a claw against his shoulder – hard. There is the sound of a scale bending and breaking, and a splash of blood appears with an acidic sizzle. Showing no discomfort at the self-inflicted wound, Xagygyrag lets some of the blood run over his claw and says, his voice taking on a booming and solemn quality, “I, Xagygyrag, here swear to give this creature knowledge of the dimensional seals, in return for the magical items it has given me. After giving it this knowledge, I shall let it go free, making no attempt to harm it, as long as it leaves forthwith and does not return to Khesavuthir.”With that said, he flicks his blood onto the slab. The heavy drops sink instantly into the stone like water into sand, and the arcane symbols flash and glow with light. “Your turn,” the dragon says to Six. “Say the following – I, whatever your name is, here swear to give Xagygyrag, protector of Khesavuthir, spell scrolls and a magical container in return for knowledge of the dimensional seals. After gaining this knowledge, I shall leave here forthwith and shall not return to Khesavuthir.” He raises a still bloodied claw. “But before saying it, produce some of the fluid that counts for blood with you. If you prefer, I can extract it. After making the oath, spill your blood on the slab.”Six says quickly, “I can produce the fluid myself. But do you want to amend that oath with ‘...unless invited back by or to save the protector of Khesavuthir’?” Xagygyrag stares for a second and then throws back his head as he emits another thunderous guffaw. “Not necessary. I doubt you will be able to return, and the protector of Khesavuthir would not ever need saving by such as you.” His eyes narrow slightly. “Though you would need saving from me if you and your companions returned here again. Assuming you personally survived the effects of thus breaking the oath. Which, before you ask, I do not intend to share.”Six does not argue and simply nods. Producing a dagger, he cuts one of the softer, connective tissues of his body and dribbles a few drops of the alchemical fluid that runs through it onto the slab. The arcane symbols flash and glow again, and as they fade, Six feels a sensation of warmth on the spot where he obtained the fluid. Looking down, he can see a faint sigil etched in that spot. And now that he is close enough, he realizes that many such sigils, perhaps hundreds, mark the scales of Xagygyrag.The dragon nods, its expression pleased, as it picks up the slab and pushes it back through the extradimensional portal still floating beside it. Then it looks back down to Six and says, “Listen carefully now, for here is the lore you seek. The dimensional seals, like all great magic in this world, are about blood and the life force which flows in all things. Whether it be the blood of a single insignificant creature – such as yourself – or that which the progenitor wyrm Siberys bled into the skies to form the Ring of Siberys, blood contains some of the life and power of its owner. The seals draw upon the blood and life of Eberron itself, and some of Khyber and Siberys, to achieve their binding power. But in moments of great need, they can use more blood – more life – to achieve greater things.”Xagygyrag’s voice takes on a slightly reverent tone, as he continues. “When creatures die, their energies remain behind and slowly dissipate and become one with the ambient energy of the universe. That is the power which much magic, especially necromancy, draws upon. When many – thousands, or perhaps tens of thousands – die in quick and close conjunction, as occurred in the land your people call the Mournland, huge magical power is unleashed. Or at least the potential for huge magical power. If such an event occurs, then the dimensional seals can harness that power to achieve much greater bindings – even such as binding away Xoriat from Eberron.”“When Xoriat first came to this world, the Gatekeepers taught by Vvaarak knew of this, and so, when the time was right, they drew on the blood and lives spilled by the Dhakaani in defense of Khorvaire. And through that sacrifice, they bound shut the doors between this world and Xoriat.” The dragon smirks slightly. “Why do you think the Gatekeepers took decades to act, while the Daelkyr war raged across your world and untold thousands died? Because there was not enough blood to fuel the great binding. And so they waited until enough was spilled, letting the unknowing goblinoids be slaughtered and broken by Xoriat.”“And now,” he continues with evident relish, “You come to such a moment again. So return to Khorvaire, little warforged, and wait for death to spread across your land. And know this too. Because this is magic of Eberron, the blood – and the deaths – must be of this world, and the more intimately connected to this world the better. The deaths of a hundred soldiers of Xoriat would not provide the power that a single dead human – or warforged – can provide. And when the time is right, use the seals again. Just make sure that there is enough death – and blood – for your purposes.”Xagygyrag smiles viciously. “Any questions?”Lots! But some I’m not bringing up now! “Yes,” says Six politely, “You wouldn’t have a scheme about how to actually do this, would you? Also, can the word of recall scroll be used from here?” And are you sure you are not a gnome?Xagygyrag smiles. “The forces of Xoriat walk your lands already. I think there will be blood enough. Of course, you will need to ensure that enough blood has been spilt, so you may have to wait a while. And there are issues of timing. Not only will you need someone at each seal – or as many as possible – to activate them at once, but the moment must be propitious. The more full moons – or new moons, but not both – at once the better, but I am not quite sure how many you would need.” He raises a claw to scratch at a horn, almost musing aloud to himself, “The time when Mabar, the plane of Endless Night, is coterminous with ours would be a perfect time. And luckily for you, though that occurs for only three dark nights once every five years, it will happen within a few months.” The dragon focuses again on Six and flexes his great shoulders in what might be a draconic shrug. “The seals are not a subject I am particularly interested in. But my divinations last night revealed your interest in them, so I did some checking, in case it became relevant. And now you know what you came here for. You may depart. Your scroll will work here.”“Thank you. May I take a moment to write it all down? And, if you will allow, do a quick sketch of you?” As Xagygyrag cocks his head, Six quickly adds, “I am an amateur sculptor and making one of your awesome form would be an honor.”The dragon sighs. “Very well. You and your companions have provided more amusement than I have had in a decade. But be swift.”“I will,” says Six, hastily producing pen and parchment.. . .A few minutes later, in the basement of the ruin at the center of the land the Angels were gifted in Karrnath, a worried Luna and Korm see Six appear.“What happened?” asks Luna, hurrying to him. “Are you okay? Any idea what happened to the others?” She looks at the wrapped object in his hand, the Endless Blade protruding from one end. “What’s that?”Six unwraps it, even as the Blade starts babbling about what the dragon did to Gareth. “This.”“Oh … sh*t! Did it kill him?”“No,” says the Endless Blade, slowing down in its babbling. “But it made him unconscious and then got all his armor off with a spell and then I was talking and asking it not to kill him and explaining how he’s not a bad guy even if he’s sometimes an idiot and how we could help it and it was all a big mistake and …,” it hesitates for a couple of seconds, and then continues, a little grumpily, “…it got all excited and growled at me and said I was bothering it, and then bit Gareth’s arm off! And he didn’t even twitch! For a moment I thought he was dead, but the dragon cast a spell and he stopped bleeding and then…”Korm calmly picks up the sword and attached arm, and then tosses both into his own haversack. And shuts it over the fading and indignant, “Hey! Wha-?”“Good move,” says Six. “Yes,” says Luna. “So is Nameless alive too? Any idea how long they will be? And why were you gone so long?”Six raises a metal hand. “One thing at a time. Now sit down. This may take a while.” Once the others do, he proceeds to explain everything he has learned.There is silence for a few moments after he finishes, and then Luna looks at Korm a little suspiciously. “Did you know this about the Gatekeepers?”The orc raises both hands. “Not a clue. This is as new to me as to you two.”“Humph! Anyway, you’re not a real druid, so maybe they didn’t tell you!”Korm considers whether he should argue or comment, but decides to hold off for reasons of sanity. Instead, he turns to Six. “We need to talk to Saala about this. And Jaela too, in case the two are dead. If anyone can bring them back, she can. Having Gareth’s arm helps, but we don’t have any of Nameless.”“I agree. Can you two get us to either of them?”The druids shake their heads. “I mostly prepared for offense and defense today,” says Korm, “Except for the one travel spell, which I used to get here. We’ll have to do it tomorrow.” Luna agrees, and Six says, “Very well. Then we’ll go tomorrow morning. Another question – who’s going to tell Gareth’s family?”“Not me,” is the simultaneous answer from the others. “No way!” Luna adds emphatically. “Let’s wait till we’re sure what happened to him.”“All right. So none of us are going above ground then? Since they are next door.”“No, we’re not.”The three Guardian Angels settle down to spend the rest of the day in various ways, all of them wondering what is happening with their companions, and if they are even still alive.* * * * *Sometime later…Gareth and Nameless awake through a haze of pain and general fuzziness in their heads to find themselves in a chamber they have seen before. They are in the room with the stone shelves, lying naked and strapped onto two of them. The primary source of the pain is quickly clear since both of them have been crucified, with large metal spikes driven through their hands into the stone beneath. Or, in Nameless’ case, through a hand and a tentacle, while for Gareth one spike goes through his left hand and the other through his right upper arm, which ends in a stump. Whuh? When did that happen? Gareth thinks, trying to gather his thoughts through the fog that seems to permeate his head. He does realize that none of the few spells in his memory at the end of the battle are still there, nor are any of the spells he had on him. So too does Nameless, who takes a few seconds of looking around the chamber to realize that his permanent arcane sight is missing too. Besides the nails, more pain radiates out from the shallow cuts which have been made all over their bodies. There is a pattern to each set of cuts, but neither of the unfortunate recipients is in a position to understand or work it out. Blood drips painfully down their bodies into channels in the stone, flowing down to the hemispherical depression in the center of the room, which now appears to hold a huge bowl of some kind.Xagygyrag, who has his back to them and is manipulating the bowl in some manner, evidently senses that they have awoken, since he turns. The gargantuan dragon considers them silently for a moment and then says, “Do not worry – this will be over soon. I simply needed to collect some of your blood before I consume you. Do you have any last words? Sacrifices seem to want to talk before it is over.” “Thank you,” says Nameless painfully, “But I’m quite good.” You can take my body, but my soul already belongs to someone far beyond you. Gareth simply closes his eyes and begins to pray. “Very well,” says the dragon. He turns and walks over, crossing half the chamber in two giant strides, and the huge skull-head looms over Nameless. The alienist’s eyes meet the dragon’s huge orbs for a second, and then his vision is filled by a mouthful of fangs. For a moment, before Xagygyrag carefully bites his head off. Gareth opens his eyes to see blood gush from Nameless’ corpse, as the dragon meditatively chews the alienist’s head like a delicate little morsel. “Fascinating!” he mutters aloud, “He had much power and knowledge – for a human. And now it shall be mine.” Then he turns to the paladin and says, “Your turn,” and his neck snakes forward, jaws opening wide. There is a moment of intense agony for Gareth as the jaws close, and then only darkness. Which is broken after some time, though he has no idea how long that is, by a painfully bright light and a voice.</blockquote>

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