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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Jon Potter" data-source="post: 3322794" data-attributes="member: 2323">[PLAIN][Realms #381] Slice-n-Dice[/PLAIN]DAY FOUR IN THE ELEMENTAL NODES"Does someone have their eye on that Shield of Blinding?" Ayremac asked tentatively, indicating the device that was propped against the wall between the Earth and Fire doors. "I would not mind using that, although it does not match."Karak looked up from tending his waraxe and skewered the holy warrior with a look. "Match what?" he grunted. "What are ye on about?""My armor," the Officer replied hesitantly. He indicated the spiked shield that was worked with green lacquer to perfectly match his spiked plate armor."Ye're daft!" the dwarf replied with a derisive snort. He went back to his whetstone work with a shake of his head. Ayremac looked at Morier."Morier, am I being crazy?" he asked. "A magical shield that blinds my enemies or the matching spiked shield. I mean, it's more then the matching; I worked a long time for the smith to earn this suite of armor.""Do what you wish," the albino said with complete disinterest, looking up only briefly from the greatsword he was contemplating. Ayremac scowled and looked from one device to the other."Anyone want my old Ring of Protection?" Huzair asked, having already upgraded to the new, more powerful one they'd discovered. He offered the old band up to the others."Rasvim-levex?" Ixin asked and Huzair nodded. The drakeling had claimed the Horn of the Tritons and was arranging a strap to carry it over her shoulder. She paused to look at the wizard."Rasvim-litrix-levex," the mage agreed, tossing the ring to her. She caught it, slipped it on her finger and nodded back."Ixin-majak thurirl," she explained. "Ixin-clax.""Thadarshthric," Huzair told her with a wave of his hand, deciding that she really didn't need to know that he'd given her the weaker of the two rings. He stuffed the Goblet of Life back into his Haversack and in the common tongue said, "That is everything, then.""Huzair, don't think I did not notice you tucking that Rod away," Ayremac said, fixing the wizard with a penetrating stare. "As much as I appreciate you keeping it away from me, I feel obligated to ask what your intentions are for it." Huzair smirked."Well, I am not much of a two-weapon fighter," he said nonchalantly. "And I am happy with my sword, so I thought we might trade it for something useful." The Officer of Umba studied him appraisingly for a moment and then shook his head."Huzair, would you be willing to give me the Rod?" Ayremac asked and when Huzair bristled he sighed, adding, "I don't want to make a big issue out of this, nor stir controversy. I know how you are about 'your' treasure, but the more I think about it, the more I feel this Rod of Withering can't be good." The wizard snorted in disbelief."I told you that it is not Evil," he said. "It is not nice necessarily, but neither is a sword and I have seen how eager you are to get one of those. You have tried to talk yourself into possession of the last two elemental blades and-""It was crafted by someone who covets the dark arts!" Ayremac shouted, his voice strident and full of emotion. With some effort, he calmed himself and said through gritted teeth, "Yes, this weapon does not eminate Evil, but Evil is crafty and just carrying it taints us all. Let me have it and I will destroy it." "I will not stand by and let such a powerful weapon be destroyed," Huzair countered. "It would be a huge waste.""And I cannot allow you to wield it," Ayremac said, crossing his arms. "It seems we are at an impasse." Exasperated, Huzair sighed."As you know I am not big on hand-to-hand combat, so me wielding it should not be such a big worry for you," the wizard explained. "First people want me to give up my sword, now destroy one of our most powerful magic items? It goes against a wizard's mentality to do something like that. "And it goes against my faith to suffer the dark arts in our midst!" Ayremac said, angrily. "I will not yield on this, Huzair. Nae, I CANNOT yield! I say again; we are at an impasse."Shamalin stepped between the two before the argument could escalate further. "Give it to me," she said, holding out her hand, "before you two come to blows over it.""If you want it, Shamalin, here you go," Huzair said, reaching into his traveler's purse. He pulled out the Rod of Withering - which looked like a skeletal arm cast in iron - and placed it in the cleric's hand."No good can come of this," Ayremac told her, earnestly and Shamalin laid a reassuring hand on the holy warrior's arm."We've known each other for a long time," she said with a pale, bitter smile."I believe I can carry this burden. You can trust me." The holy warrior sighed and shook his head."Shamalin, I appreciate your very diplomatic solution, and I do trust you... but don't use that Rod around me... or leave it unprotected," he said, sadly. "I think it should be destroyed and nothing will change my mind on that." Shamalin said nothing in response, but she nodded her understanding.Morier got to his feet and stepped up to the Officer of Umba, saying, "Ayremac, I know I won't change your mind, but hear me out: The lines between good and evil are not always as well-defined as we would like them to be. If this tool is a weapon that will help us to put Aphyx down, then we would be foolhardy to ignore its possible benefits.""That way of thinking is a short and slippery path toward Chaos, Morier," Ayremac countered simply and the albino held up a conceding hand. "The ends of a thing are but rarely justification for the means.""I agree that we must be vigilant against becoming what we fight, but unless this thing is constructed from pure evil, I think we need to see what good might come from it before we decide to destroy it," Morier told him. "We are in no position to turn away anything that might add to our strength." Again, the holy warrior sighed and shook his head, but this time when he spoke, his tone was strong not sad. "Let me put this to rest," he said, stepping back from the others. "I am not often a stubborn man, but in just mere moments this evil Rod has bent us against each other. I will leave this to your decision... the Rod may help you in fighting Aphyx, but I will take no further part in its use. You must decide... what will help further the cause more, my participation - with the backing and blessing of Umba - or the Rod? If you choose me simply destroy the Rod. Until that time, I will rest and pray."Saying thus, Ayremac turned and moved toward a far corner of the chamber to meditate. Shamalin could see that Morier's words had brought Ayremac's ire to life once again, and she shot the albino a withering look."I had this under control!" she grumbled, as she followed Ayremac to be certain she had the Officer of Umba's full attention. She lowered her voice and looked him squarely in the eye. "I don't know what has happened to you, Ayremac. And... I'm sorry that I haven't been brave enough to ask." She faltered as the pain broadcast clearly in his eyes for a moment. "But Morier is right: destroying the Rod may not be the answer. Neither is flailing it around like some child's toy. So I will hold it for now, and we will determine at another time what is to be done."She looked expectantly at Ayremac, doing her best to conceal her true feelings about the weapon and the idea of being its keeper. The Circlet of Persuasion she wore across her brow helped somewhat in that regard. Ayremac fixed her appraisingly with the Eyes of Justice, staring passed her words to the heart of her intentions. Perhaps it was the lingering memory of their past relationship that caused it, but in the end, he fell for her lies."Okay, Shamalin," he said with a wane smile. "As I said, I do trust you. I guess I always have."They stepped through the flat pane of utter dark beyond the Air door and appeared in a short corridor such as they had seen before although it was much narrower such that they had to line up in single file line. It went for about 15 feet before terminating at a blank wall. At that point on the left hand side of the hall was set a five foot wide, floor-to-ceiling mirror edged in brass.Karak, who was as usual in the lead let out a disapproving grunt when he looked into the mirror. "Oi!" he grumbled staring critically at himself in reflective surface. "Why didn't somebody tell me that me beard was crooked at the bottom? Damned fire monsters burned it all elfish an' jaunty! No offense, Morier." The albino snorted from the rear of the queue."What else do you see up there?" Huzair grumbled from mid-group. "It is getting a little close in here.""I'll look for a secret door or somethin'," Karak said. "I see naught but the mirror."Ixin craned her neck and looked over the dwarf's head into the mirror. "Ocuir!" she said, pointing at the mirror. Then concentrating she spoke the word as Shamalin had taught her. "Luke! Luke!""Luke?" Karak grumbled and Huzair shouted from behind."She is saying, 'Look'! There is something she wants you to see," he said."Yes. Look!" Ixin said with a nod, still pointing at the mirror. Then she lapsed back into draconic to add, "Irthos ossalur zara-Karak!""She says there is a hidden door behind you," Huzair translated and Karak turned again to look at the blank wall facing the mirror."I jus' looked there and I do nae see any-" the dwarf started to say until Huzair's frustrated cry cut him off."In. The. Mirror," he said, slowly and deliberately. "The door is in the mirror."Karak looked and he could see it now, behind his reflection. A plain door made of the same stone as the rest of the wall, with a round brass door pull set at proper height for a human. There were words carved above the lintel in the human alphabet, but they were all in reverse so he couldn't readily make them out.He snorted and turned back toward the wall behind him but there was no door and no inscription above it."I can see the door in the mirror. There's some words carved above it," Karak informed them. And then he went through the process of translating the backwards words into frontwards sense. Well, as much sense as they made anyway:"those most willing to observe the world will find that they can always change it""What in the Nine Hells does tha' mean?" the dwarf spat and Huzair stroked his chin thoughtfully."Yes. That quote is somewhat difficult to interpret," he mused. "I would think the mirror image of that would be a good idea, in fact: Those who want to change the world should observe it first.""Very philosophical," Morier sneered and the mage turned on him."I don't see you offering any-" he started to say, but Ayremac cut him off."Can you stare in the mirror and cause your mirror image to open the door," the holy warrior suggested. "Or possibly reach into the mirror itself and make it happen.""Not a bad idea!" Huzair agreed enthusiastically. "I've heard of mirrors that act as portals to a transitive plane called The Hall of Mirrors. Perhaps this is one of those." Karak experimented a bit without luck."Nae," he grumbled. "The mirror's solid.""What about saying the words aloud or backwards," Ayremac suggested."I already said 'em aloud," Karak told him. "An' if'n I'm gonna be tryin' to say 'em backwards well then I'll need Huzair to pass me me Goblet o' Life. I could use a good drink while I ponder how this be workin'"Ixin, of course, couldn't read the words above the door in the mirror and she couldn't understand a tenth of what the others were saying. What she could do was tell that the reflected door was behind her even if she couldn't see it except as a reflection. So, while Karak stammered and cursed his way through trying to speak the words backwards, Ixin half-turned, twisting her neck to keep the reflection in sight and using it as a guide, moved her hand to the pull ring. She felt the sensation of cold metal in her hand and tightened her grip, heaving backward and opening the door out of the hall.Everyone fell silent as the drakeling turned to regard the others. "Ocuir," she said, pointing to the open valve. "Irthos-erekess-ossalur."Stepping through the flat pane of jet, brought them one by one to one end of a hallway ten feet wide that stretched dimly ahead of them. The walls were sheathed in plaster while the floor and ceiling alike were dressed stone. Several consecutive walls of light beamed across the corridor from one wall to the other at regular intervals, providing the only light in the misty corridor.The combination of the mist and the dim light obscured the far end."I think the plaster could be hiding something," Huzair said as soon as he took a look at the set-up. "Anybody good at detecting secret doors and traps?""Isn't that your job?" Morier quipped. "You're the one who always bragged about being raised in a thieves' guild." Huzair shot the albino a murderous look and Karak stamped his waraxe on the stone floor."A thieves' guild, eh?" he glared at Huzair. "Tell us more, wizard." Huzair sighed and rolled his eyes."Worry about your own stuff and leave my business to me, dwarf," the mage replied, dismissing Karak's inquiry with a wave. "You have nothing to fear about me, unless you really want to start something.""So what do you think, guild rat?" Morier asked and Huzair frowned."I am concerned that crossing those rays of light may be a trap," he said."Should we then toss a stone at those light walls before proceeding?" Ayremac asked and after a moment's consideration, Huzair nodded."Not a terrible idea," he replied, looking around quickly for a stone. He didn't find any, but eventually Shamalin handed him a copper piece and he heaved that through.As soon as the coin intersected the wall of light, the corridor was filled with a great mechanical ratchetting sound. Four enormous pendulum blades scythed down from concealed slots in the ceiling, slicing into Ixin, Morier and Karak before they could even react to the blades' presence. Huzair managed somehow to dodge out of the way of the final blade."Okay. I take that back," he grimaced as he stepped back from the whirling blades. "That was a terrible idea."It wasn't so much the damage that the blades did to the companions as it was the poison that was coated liberally on their cutting edge. Even Karak, whose dwarven constitution often laughed at poison was effected by this on and they felt strength drain from their limbs as the blades snapped back into the ceiling as the clockwork mechanism powering them reset.-------------------------------------A nice long update for the last of my week of Post-a-Day. I hope that everyone's enjoyed the celebratory extra story.</blockquote>

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