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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 2859002" data-attributes="member: 2323">[PLAIN][Realms #341] The Cave of Death[/PLAIN]"Shamalin, call on your goddess and help turn these abominations! I will do the same!" Ayremac shouted as soon as he spotted the undead. Brandishing his holy symbol he added, "Warriors, please follow our lead; attack those that are unaffected by our prayers!"Karak needed no encouragement as he activated the frost rune on his waraxe and slammed into the advancing swell of corpses. Unfortunately, they weren't the shambling zombies he had been expecting and his target dodged his attack with disturbing alacrity. It in turn leapt at him with its arms spread wide and its eyes glittering with an esurient light. He managed to bring his axe up to meet the would-be grappler and the frost rimed edge split the thing from throat to hip. Even as it fell three more were surging forward to take its place and one of those was cleaved nearly in twain by the dwarf before it could close. It didn't fall - like any living thing would have - but its attack was spoiled nonetheless.The other two clamored for him, their grabbing hands trying desperately to get hold of his arms and bear him down to the ground. Their gore-caked mouths snapped hungrily at Karak's face, living little doubt as to the fate that awaited him if he fell. Somehow he managed to avoid their greedy hands and maintained his footing.Three more shot passed him, scrambling eagerly over the loose soil in an effort to get to the warm flesh nearby.Two came at Morier and he swung Ravager in an effort to get keep them at bay. The one he'd targeted avoided the blade with ease and wrapped its arms around the albino's waist - or rather it tried to. Morier was able to grab its wrist and keep it from getting a firm hold on him. His second assailant reached for him as well, but its fellow was in the way and the attempt failed.Moaning hungrily, the last of the ghoulish things went for Ayremac. Under a mask of determination there was just a hint of fear in the officer's demeanor. The trapped souls of the undead always crawled directly under Ayremac's skin and even with all the training and prayer, he could not look at it coldly as a trained officer should. Of course, that didn't stop him from cleaving in the side of its skull with his morningstar as it tried to bear him down. The thing groaned in frustration but showed no sign of pain from the injury as it glowered up at him."Shamalin, I will call on Umba to turn these abominations but I cannot turn them all. Call on your goddess if you can and aid me!" the holy warrior said again.Shamalin scowled at the command. Of course attempting to turn the undead was what she should do first off, and who was he - so young and cavalier in his faith - to order it? But the truth was, the moment he said it, a thought that she might fail washed over her. Once the possibility of one's soul being trapped in a state of undead was the worst imaginable fate. Now, she was not so sure. She could think of worse things. And how would the White Lady reward such skepticism, she wondered?But that moment of doubt was immediately lost in the momentum of the attack, and she blinked in surprise as Ayremac took action beside her. "Umba, hear my prayer," he intoned, holding up his shiny gold holy symbol. "I present myself to you, as a channel from which you may see the ghastly works of the necromantic arts. Please, Umba, show mercy on the souls of these animated corpses. Set them free and aid me in seeking divine retribution on the wielder of this dark magic!"The words washed over Shamalin like the tide, leaving her tingling in its wake. She felt the tiny hairs beneath her armor ripple with its effect. Arland had always been rather articulate (a necessity when politicking) but she had never heard him weave such poignant emotion into a prayer. And she marveled at it momentarily. Then her lips moved silently as she bid favor of Lady Mercy in her own quiet, but equally fervent way, laying her hand on Ayremac's shoulder.It was a uniquely foreign sensation to touch the tormented soul of the undead. Theirs was a personal hell of being rent between two plains. While Shamalin ordinarily experienced the healing graces of her goddess in musical contexts, there were no such melodies to be found in the madness which emanated from these creatures. She clenched her teeth against the desire to turn away and reached out to Flor in desperation - whether it be for herself or for the miserable creatures before her, she could not be sure.In any case, the result was the same.Positive energy flowed through Shamalin and into Ayremac. The holy warrior seemed almost to glow with power in that shadowy valley and as he directed his arm outward at the zombies, they were knocked back as if by a solid wave of force. It lasted but a moment and then the light passed from the man and the now inanimate corpses slapped wetly to the ground.There was silence for several seconds and then Karak spat onto one of the lifeless bodies at his feet. "Well, that takes a bit o' the sport out o' the thing, don't it?" he grumbled."Thank you, Umba, for granting these poor souls justice," Ayremac said and then looked at Shamalin. "And thank you, too. I could not have done so well without you."Shamalin said nothing and turned away. She looked at Morier and, gesturing to the forbidding cave mouth asked, "Does your head tell you we have to go in there?"The albino looked at the dark opening in the earth and then back at the cleric. "Yes," he said without enthusiasm."Great..," Huzair sighed as he fished in his spell component pouch. "Time to buff up, I guess, eh Morier?""I'll wait," the eldritch warrior said pointing at the cave with his sword. "We don't even know what's in there.""That's my point; we should try to be prepared," Huzair retorted with a shake of his head. "Gods forbid you should actually focus on magic, for once. If only you knew where real power lay."The mage's comments touched a raw nerve with Morier and it instantly galvanized him. He whirled on the taller man. "Huzair, as usual your argument is idiotic, but now, given the seriousness of our situation I grow weary of it. If I knew when combat was coming, fool, I would clearly do what I could to prepare myself in advance... or better yet AVOID THE CONFLICT ALTOGETHER, YOU COMPLETE MORON !!! How do you propose I prepare for combat any earlier than the instant I know it's going to happen??? Have you not the common damned sense that Garn-Zanuth gave a maggot??? Or perhaps you are saying that you alone hold the powers to know when we face danger and have been witholding that information? Is that what it is, Huzair? Because that's the only way your idiotic banter makes sense."Huzair just looked down at him with a slight grin touching the corner of his mouth."So that's it, is it? Hey folks, I think I've discovered something about our so-called 'friend'... apparently he is a seer who has been keeping the rest of us in the dark," Morier went on, turning to address the others who were all staring at his tirade in disbelief. "Based on his talk - and BOY OH BOY DOES HE EVER TALK - he seems to know when danger is coming, and yet has never once warned the rest of us about it!!!" "Little touchy there, sword boy?" Huzair snickered, drawing out a cigar and lighting it off his thumb. "You know I'm no seer. All I'm saying is that if you practiced your spellcasting more then your spells would last long enough for you to do a little prep work. Mine do. It's not my fault that you choose to focus all your effort on swinging around that ugly piece of steel." Morier sighed and looked again at the wizard."Huzair, I propose that unless you have the fortitude to stand toe-to-toe with any of the foes that the rest of us have battled by hand, you keep your inscessant-blatter-hole silent," he said, stabbing a finger at the mage's chest. "Stand back and cast your spells from a distance and let those of us with a backbone save your sorry ass time and time again... but for the love of Garn-Zanuth limit your pointless yammerings to 'thank you' and then SHUT THE HELL UP!!!""Ahem!" Lela chirped, landing daintily on Karak's helm. "While you two were shouting at one another and alerting half the forest to our presence here, I had Spot take a peek inside the cave and he says it's empty. But I still think you'll all want to come and take a look."It stank of undeath and was dark inside the cave, but Ayremac's morningstar provided enough glow for everyone to see that it was in fact empty. It clearly had been worked by skilled hands: the floor was flat and the walls showed signs of having been decorated in places by elaborate frescoes. The latter, however had been systematically destroyed and overlaid with chaos symbols such as Karak and Morier had seen before in the goblin caves they'd helped clear for the Great Oak."Well, Morier?" Huzair asked, snidely. "We're here. So where's this key to defeating Aphyx?" The albino shot the wizard a scathing glance and then moved forward toward a bare spot on the rear wall of the cave."I can feel it," he said. "Pulling me here. There must be a secret-"That was all the more he got to say before his outstretched hand touched the wall and he vanished.</blockquote>

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