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Message: <blockquote data-quote="steeldragons" data-source="post: 5733757" data-attributes="member: 92511">The R’Hathi wizardess, the dwarven rogue and the satyr ranger raced up the narrow winding staircase to come to a closed door of old wood and iron bindings.      Duor listened at the door and, unspoken, indicated he did not hear any movement. His attempt to quietly shove the door open met with failure. It did not budge. After a quick once-over of the door Duor said it was bolted from the other side. He began to pull slender iron picks and another oddly shaped implement from a pocket on his side.      “We don’t have time for that.” Alaria said plainly.  “Noep.” <mage cantrip: Open> She said with a sliding motion before her. She hoped to the Blue Star the portal was not magically held or elaborately locked. She detested the possibility she would have to read the spell of opening (before she’d ever had a chance to use it!) from her book, as she did not currently have it memorized.      Thankfully, there was the sliding sound and a clunk of metal against metal.      Duor burst into the room with a flying somersault, followed by Festus, with blades blazing. The room was small with two stone tables within. A long side table of wood held various pots and ceramic containers.       The priest was not there. Another door led out of the room. It was not barred and opened to reveal another set of stairs, again leading upward.      The trio continued their pursuit up the narrow stairs.      They rounded a bend to see an open doorway before them before they saw nothing at all.      The light surrounding Alaria’s staff winked out and the three heroes stood in almost complete darkness. A trickle of daylight showed the way to the doorway, but only Duor with his dwarven darkvision was able to climb the unlit stairs without tripping at least once. Festus fare well enough with his own vision but Alaria had to follow the wall with her hand to climb the stairs.<author/DM note: the priest's Darkness spell only served to snuff Alaria's Light. Thankfully. Else they would have all been totally blind. The priest was working under the assumption the whole party would be coming up with torches, and thus completely blinded.>       The three broke into the main shrine room.      The dark robed figure was racing for the outer door, weaving his way around the mess of workbenches and overturned furniture.      Duor immediately drew his nocked hand crossbow and let fly. The dart missed by an inch, harmlessly sinking into one of the overturned tables.      “Losec!” <mage cantrip: Close> Alaria quickly shouted, again mentally praying to the goddess of magic that the shrine’s doorway wouldn’t prove too weighty for her simple closing spell.      The door, only slightly ajar, slammed shut with a thud.      The priest stopped in his tracks and turned to face his pursuers.       Good, thought Alaria. He thinks he is trapped. In reality, the cantrip had simply closed the door not locked it. If the priest got to it, he could easily push it open.      Then, their ears were again assaulted with the corrupted tongue of evil and the priest invoked his undead goddess. “Essressstim Endore, Surevvv miclon etne aetuuundshaaaa!” <cleric spell, Spiritual Weapon. “Mistress Endore, attack your enemies with your [un]holy weapon!”>            Immediately, a skull appeared before the priest, ensconced in dark violet flames. The thing streaked across the shrine. Duor avoided the flaming skull attack by ducking at the last moment behind one of the tables. Festus and Alaria, however, were not so lucky and bloth received blows from the spell as it arced its way through the room before returning to hover beside the priest. His smirk was obvious beneath the skull-mask that obscured the top of his face.      As if instinctual, Alaria free hand went to the crystal orb in her pouch. With the other, holding her staff, she extended her index and middle fingers as the power coursed through her body.“Shaiir shahiir shaiiris” <mage spell: Mirror Image>      she shouted across the once-holy place. The power filled her with that intoxicating feeling, somewhat less so than the webbing evocation, but she revelled in the coursing energies just the same.  Her form and, to her complete surprise, that of Festus and Duor flickered and glimmered and suddenly, the priest saw THREE mages, THREE satyrs and THREE dwarves with glowing green blades creeping out from behind a table!      The Plague priest flung his arm at them and the flaming skull again flew through the chamber. It stuck one of the wizards which immediately winked out of view and passed through one of the satyrs, which similarly dissolved before his eyes. Soon after the skull returned to the priest’s side it dissolved back into the cosmos.      A crossbow bolt landed in his upper arm and the priest cried out in shock and pain.       Now two satyrs and three dwarves were charging through the room toward him.      His lips seethed with the unholy tongue of his order.   The satyr approached first and cut into him with its curved blade.      The priest reached out his hand and tightly gripped the attacking ranger. Red energy flared around the evil priests hand and the satyr cried out in pain before he was easily shoved aside. <    cleric spell: Cause Light Wounds>       The priest backed up a step and grabbed one of the long discarded hammers from a bench near him. He readied to swing at the approaching dwarf.      Alaria pulled the orb from its pouch, ready to use it in her next attack when she heard Haelan’s small voice come from behind her.“    Beatius Faerantha, benéfica spiritum con u guda rihvahlt!” <cleric spell: Hold Person. “Beatufiul Fearantha, bless your loyal follower with your power to halt/hold.”>   In mid-swing at Duor, the priest made a small “Erk” noise from his throat. In an instant, amber colored light surrounded him and seemed to coelesce into a solid form.  The evil priest was forzen in place beneath a veneer of amber. His eyes shifted in their sockets behind the skull mask. He was utterly held.      Two Alarias, two Festus-es and three Duors turned to look at the doorway to see an amber glow fade from Haelan’s outstretched arm with a hand pointing at the priest.      “Taste the power of the Hillmother, villain.” The daelvar said satisfied in his faith and the power of his goddess. “Wow, Alaria…-as. Made your own party?” Haelan smiled.      “It tastes sweet, indeed. I am sure, good Hilltender.” Alaria smiled back. With a thought, she dismissed the illusions so only the originals stood where they were.      “It does, magess.” Haelan responded. “I like it.”      The rest of the party filtered up through the stairwell after the cleric.  Fen did not appear too well at all. The druid leaned heavily on Erevan. But his face was full of fury toward the undead-goddess’ cleric.      Coerraine had seen better days, but at least he was on his feet. He leveled his spear toward the wicked cleric. He knew, despite all of his own wishes, he could not run the priest through where he was stuck, enchanted.      At Healan’s instruction, the Redstar was shocked to find he could reach into the amber coating and remove the priest’s mask.       All of the party gasped to see revealed the face of the lone survivng “Dunrician acolyte.”      All of the party, except Duor, of course. The dwarf simply sheathed his blade and turned to the rest of the party. “I suppose we’re gonna hafta question him now?” the dwarf said, sounding disappointed.</blockquote>

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