Qahnaarin begins walking toward the oasis.
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The majestic blade Ikara twisted in his hands as Taalik searched for the source of the voice. It called to him, trying to tempt him back to the water. "Cursed being, come out and face your judgement!"
Seeing that the two ladies inside the structure are moving quietly and carefully, however, does trigger some warning bells in the back of Tsakua's mind. With the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, Tsakua maintains his silence and begins examining the room.
A laugh resounded from all around as the spectre appeared hovering over the lake. It’s form shrouded in what appeared to be a haze that clung to its form. It’s body was deceased looking, old and wretched. Some of the refugees began to be pulled towards its will, much like moths to a flame.
It’d turn its head towards Octavian who commanded it to appear. ”I am, Uthiard the Wise, The Ancient, The lifeforce of Old.” His tone was drab, and devoid of any emotion now, lights appeared in its eye sockets, a dull glowing red. ”Your people should know me.” Suddenly the air filled with malice, ”Your people brought my empire to ruin, and now. With these many bodies to feed of off, I may truly finally return… after thousands of years in wait….”
Soft whispers could be heard by those becoming enthralled in his pull, whispers of a sweet release from pains and mortal burdens. Whispers speaking to them to step into the lake, become one with the world.
”Come to me, my compatriots. Give me your strength!”
Uthiard the Wise, once ruled over a kingdom in the desert with an iron fist. A wizard magistrate he had complete dominion over his people and armies and commanded a vast majority of the desert. He was ruthless and a tyrant. Or so the stories have labeled him.
He practiced in evil dark magics, extending his natural lifespan unnaturally by weekly sacrifices and ceremonial blood games. His people were enthralled by him, his society was more of a cult with the will of his and his alone then any regular society.
It was said that he began subjecting a new race to the world, fabled blue skinned desert man. But that was his downfall, as the blue ones were resistant to his enthralling attempts and soon he was power was stripped from him and he was cast down from his golden throne. The history is unclear whether it was a fierce battle or clever magics. But Uthiard died in a midst of an incantation of some sort of unholy magick. It was never known what he was attempting to do or if the ritual was complete.
Jasmine nods, heading back into the main room with the altar, and proceeds to check the room for traps, also rotating through her innate magical talents to spot alignment based aura's with her detect abilities. Knowing her luck, something else would seal a second exit and leave them even more stuck than they were now. While glancing around the altar, per vision suddenly noted a dark shadow through a crack. Immediately, she draws an arrow and aims it upwards. "I can see you, your shadow appears to be blocking the light high above. Don't move, tell me who you are and why you are here, and I might not be firing this arrow blindly upwards."
Bree feels a shiver crawl up her spine as cold recollection set in completely. She turned to Octavian, and then back to the undead entity. "Looks like he specifically means you Octavian, although I don't believe that makes any of us any safer with that knowledge. We have to do something before we lose Kyarla and any others." She bit her lip trying to think what she could do for her companions against such strong compulsion magic.
You see the two non-humans and what appears to be a companion in the room below. The room is round with a rotunda shape to it and columns along the walls supporting the dome ceiling you stand upon. You notice an altar in the center of the room with a small metal box placed upon it.
Checking the room more thoroughly you do not find any traps or immediate danger to you. Though your magical talents began flaring as you inspect the box (without touching it). Something was connected to the box but what you could not tell. Though the alignment of the magic seems to be neutral and not evil.
Qahnaarin blinks his eyes and looks around, surprised that his position has changed. He books it back toward the caravan. He briefly slows as he sees Kyarla walking in a daze toward the oasis, and raises a hand as though he is about to intervene, but then he recalls his last attempt to help and keeps hurrying toward the party.
Without giving much space for Jasmine or Maqli to respond, Tsakua continues. "As fer who I am, it's Tsakua th' Chain-Breaker, and I'm here 'cause I've been traipsin 'cross miles o'trees an' hills an' sand tryin' t'catch up wi' my friends. Comin' over a dune, I heard a crash an' knowin' the craftiness o' those tha' pursue me and m' own, I figgered t'make sure it wasn' one o' my friends tha' were caught 'n this dusty hole."
Taking a break to catch his breath, Tsakua follows up with. "Now that I've introduced meself, perhaps ye could the same, along wi' why y'collapsed the door b'hind ye."
Tsakua gives Jasmine a sidelong glance and adds "'Sides, shootin' an arrow at me'd only be a waste. The last three tha' tried could attest t'that, if'n they were still breathin'."
Jasmine isn't particularly concerned about the newcomer talking up his strength, strong or weak, most of her targets fall all the same. Still though, the stranger was correct, she hasn't yet introduced herself.
"My name is Jasmine Almandine, High Inquisitor of Calistria, and this door collapse was not my doing, but one of the many traps hidden in this room designed to snare the unwary. As for not being there right now, perhaps I can fix that, why don't you stand back, and we can see about meeting each other face to face."
The elf lets the sentence hang in the air for a moment before squatting slightly, examining the ceiling and returning her gaze to the altar and box. She was certain that it wasn't Calistrian in design, but that didn't make it not important to some religious pilgram.
"Maqli, I can get us out of here, but I'll need to create a rope harness for your wildlife friend. She won't like it, but its the easiest way."
Jasmine quickly describes her plan, by firing an arrow and turning it into a grappling hook, she can ensure that each of them get lifted out of the building and out of the crack, with Jasmine going last to yank the box out with her as she heads out.
Seeing that the gnoll had been ensorcelled again, Inja runs out towards her and places herself in her path, shoving her back and shouting to get back to the others. Should this have no effect, she attempts to bodily restrain the gnoll.
"I am not letting even one of us become prey to that cursed thing! Do you hear me? You. Are. NOT. FOOD!"
When Jasmine suggests her plan, Maqli nods. "Good. We should leave this place. It is bad, and I do not trust the halls. Kalsak will accept the ropes. Just one thing." She pauses and squats down, and the warcat comes over. Maqli rubs his head for a moment, then looks up at Jasmine with a grin. "Kalsak may be big like a female warcat, but he is male. And he does not like people making that mistake." She folds one hand on each side of his head and her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "I think because his sister and me always bullied him when we were cubs."
Kalsak mrowls and shakes his head, and Maqli pulls her hands back and chuckles as she rubs under his chin. "I am ready when you are."
The small box seemed to have some intricate carvings upon it, almost depicting some star falling from the sky and landing with people surrounding the fallen object. It seemed to be ornamental and clearly had some value here, for the least. It appeared to be a container, of what, who really knew as it was apparent that the box was designed to be kept shut as there was no lip to open it with.
Jasmines arrow impales itself into the ceiling near the crack, enough to possibly get a good point to hauling yourself through the crack.
Jasmine nods at Maqli's acceptance and begins strapping the rope around everyone, ensuring weight is supported. She ensures that a rope cage is constructed around the box last of all, so that its the last thing to leave the ground, the cage keeping the lid and box tightly sealed and not requiring a human touch to hold.
Everything seemed to be just going smoothly, even handling the box, without it leaving the altar provoked nothing. The air almost seemed pleasant when you placed the artifact back on the altar, even with it wrapped. Sailing through the hair, you make it up about half way before the slack of the rope pulled the box from its altar. At that very moment the entire temple shook, a ear splitting banshee cry would erupt.
a child like scream sounded from everywhere in the atrium.
Dark opaque shadowy tendrils erupted from the corridors, enveloping the entire atrium in a pitch black void. Tendrils shooting up towards the trip being hauled up by the rope. ”YOU WILL NOT TAKE WHAT IS MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE! THIEVES!”
Jasmine winces a little at the noise and anger, but isn't entirely surprised at the sudden noise and rage. The situation was clearly trapped, she just wasn't sure why. Fortunately, the scream, while piercing, was not deafening to the Inquisitor, who had heard plenty of loud noises in her time, and had been expected something at the time of the box leaving the altar.
The shout limiting successful verbal communication, Jasmine vaults out of the crack and starts dragging the remainder of the rope through the gap once her friend has gotten out to ensure the box would leave the area, predicting (and hoping) that perhaps the shadows would stop following.
Tsakua winces at the sound and moves to get a better view of what's happening. Swearing under his breath, he loosens up his arm and gets ready to help the ladies and cat through the gap in the stone. Once within arms reach, Tsakua extend an arm through the wall to help pull everyone through to safety.
Jasmine was able to deftly transition from rope to squeezing through the crack, it was almost she was a serpent or that she just regularly practices it. The right timing, the right push off. It was just perfect. It was just barely a second that she was able to turn around and assist Tsakua with hauling up everyone else and the artifact.
All three of you managed to escape through the crack in the ceiling and avoid the tendrils attempting to pull you down to what you would only assume is death. As soon as the last one made it through, the tendrils would slam against the crack, the ceiling heaving up from the force and cracks spreading all across the surface. They would slam again as it appears it was attempting to bring the roof down.
"NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!" it screamed as it thrashed against the ceiling.
You hear a shuddering crack and rumble as sections begin to fall away!
Keeping up with her skillful luck, Jasmine sprints for the ceiling, lifting off it just before sections began to give way.
Feeling the stone and dust erupt beneath him, Tsakua runs forward. Seeing a gap in front of him caused by falling stone, he jumps and throws his shield in front of him, readying it for a landing. For a moment, there's nothing below him but darkness and flailing tentacles.
With a loud thump, he lands on the sliding shield. Leaning back, he slides his hand along the stonework to help him guide his way around cracks, or, as needed, over the gaps. At one point, Tsakua effectively stomps his foot down on the tail end of the shield, sending it flipping end over end as he flies over another hole in the ceiling. Midway over, he grabs the shield and sticks it back under his feet, and finishes his slide to safety.
Qahnaarin hides behind a wagon.
Gracefully.
"I know of you foul creature. Hungering for power, uncaring of your subjects agony. It was your mistake when you turned your eyes to a species of superior magic who then became the instrument of your demise. Now you haunt the region well within the domain of my people and do you really think that your rebirth would go unchallenged? Thousands of years have passed since your death, thousands of years for our own magic to grow. Thousands of years for you to lie moldering in the earth, vermin slowly chewing away at your desiccated form!" Octavian taunted. "Ware his magic, he was a necromancer thousands of years ago whom my people threw down!"
Not only did you recall the legend of a mighty fearsome kingdom in the desert suddenly collapsing over a single day and how this kingdom almost suddenly disappeared. The details were only really known by the ones who brought the kingdom to its heels. Though you’ve once studied upon the beasts of the world and what you saw before was an incomplete lich. If this thing really was the old king of legend, then it was even more apparent that ritual he was performing was only partly successful. Not having the required blood sacrifices and self manifestation the spellwork rebounded and tied him to a location in the desert which he was bound for the thousands of years. He is apparently still trying to complete the spell by draining the lifeforce of those around him. With his current form you have the worst realization imaginable…
If he manages to succeed in draining at least two healthy souls, he will become even more dangerous.
You quickly realize that the thing before you is an incomplete Lich. From the stories he was trying to cast a ritual which was interrupted, though his current form is incomplete but it was dangerously close to becoming a reality. Who knows how many victims he had ensnared over the ages with the promise of water in a bristling desert.
The air thickened as another surge of his will washed over everyone in the vicinity, trying to enthrall more to try and get atleast a couple of victims. A cry rose up from the refugees as they begin scrambling to restrain those who fell to his enthralling. His undying gaze fell upon Octavian, though his words would bristle most to action, the being over the lake merely laughed, an unnerving laughter.
”Do you think I have been blind to the ages child?” He grinned then, revealing his corpse like smile. ”I know the upheaval of the world, of another tyrant who marches upon the world, subjugating those much like I did in the past. But now it was regrettable that I fell to your kind, but your home will not be so much longer!” A laughter broke out, filled with malice and a knowledge of forthcoming events. ”I do not intend to make the same mistakes of my past. But your people's downfall is coming child, and I will become an instrument for that destruction!”
You could visibly feel another pulse of magic wash over the land as more cries rising from the refugees while Ishak could be heard screaming orders to the guards, trying to prevent those enthralled in scrambling to the oasis. His focus shifted from Octavian and onto the herd of resources. Voice rising, ”COME MY CHILDREN! YOU WILL BECOME A PART OF SOMETHING GREATER!”
”NOOOOO!!!!” the voice screamed as the ceiling collapsed, crumbling under the sheer force of the onslaught from the tendrils of shadow. The ceiling falling away as the three ran from the building. Tsakua was the first to land into a bank of sand with his shield riding, then Jasmine and shortly following her was Maqli and Kalsak. The collapse of the building's atrium was thunderous and shook the ground around you. Sand and dust puffed up from the building while it settled in upon itself. The shadow thing was gone, and al remained was the sound of pebbles shifting and sand seeping down the edges of the building. Then, silence.
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Unfortunately, it seems as though there is some trouble ahead. The lack of posted guards to intercept his approach was the first hint, and now he hears screams filled with panic and fear, easily discernable even at this distance. Groaning, the tengu transfers the bulging sacks from his own back to the bed of the laden wagon beside him, then begins the process of unhitching the beast pulling the vehicle, who is all too happy to be rid of its burden to judge by the way it bounces and fidgets with scant patience. Patting the beast on its side as the last of the harness drops away, the slight avian humanoid chuckles as he retrieves a rolled bundle of leather, a saddle, and tack from the wagon. "Yes, I know quite well how happy you are be quit of that wagon," Pazeek answers the complaining chirps and warbles of his companion. Unrolling the bundle to reveal armor sized for the creature next to him, the tengu begins to apply it, the familiar process taking some time, during which the screams from the camp ahead periodically sound again and again. But he doesn't rush, regardless of his growing anxiety; improperly fitted armor is almost as bad as none at all. Once the armor is finally on, he adds the saddle and the tack, then gives everything a final check for safety before patting the prancing creature to calm it down.
"Alright, alright. Give me a moment to get myself ready too, aye?" He's about to say something else when the intensity and pitch of the screams rises sharply, drowning out a loud voice whose words he can't quite make out. The capper, though, is the fireball rising into the air. Either someone indulged just a bit overmuch on the beans--which could neatly explain the screaming--or there's a fight going on, and someone decided that "more fire" was the solution to their troubles. Expression hardening abruptly, the tengu barks a command to his companion, who unfurls large wings and launches swiftly into the air with a combative shriek. Pazeek follows seconds later on wings of his own, newly-appeared through specialized gaps in the rear of his armor, and then the pair are flapping hard for the camp now visible ahead and below them.
Qahnaarin stands atop the nearest wagon and waves his hands in the air as he shouts, "Ladies and gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen! Surely you would not leave us before my presentation on dwarven sewing techniques? They accomplish feats with yak hide that put the finest elven silk to shame. Come! Come and listen! I assure you, you will find this to be most interesting!"
The light of self-awareness returns to the gnoll's eyes and Inja relaxes her grip on her. Not a moment too soon. Aside from the very dire threat that the specter posed to their ragtag band of refugees, the creature had revealed something that makes Inja's blood boil - he is aligning himself with the Mad King, seeking to destroy an entire race!
Snarling, she turns away from Kyarla, sprinting to the edge of the water. As she runs, she grasps her spear, arm drawing back, body twisting to line up the throw. She stops abruptly as the water laps at her toes, whipping her arm forward and sending the spear sailing through the air towards the lich.
She grit her teeth, determined that she and her allies would stop this threat by any means necessary.
Tsakua chuckled grimly as he thought back on his first real conversation with Octavian. It had almost ended with him punching the blue man's nose in, and there were some occasions afterwards where he wondered if he should've done it anyways. And then there was the incident after they had ambushed the soldiers. Tsakua still grimaced at it, but his stomach didn't churn like it used to. He realized that he had seen Octavian as Octavian probably saw himself. A force of nature, something to be reckoned with, fixated on the end goal and ready to do almost anything to achieve it. Something strong was fixated in the Ildari, Tsakua thought, to be driving him so fiercely. Perhaps it was the dependence of others. Perhaps it was merely a manner of focusing. Either way, Tsakua didn't really care. His criteria for allies was simple. Either they stood and fought with you, or they weren't your allies.
Memory lane took a dark turn for Tsakua as he went back to the last few months. He still wondered if he had done the right thing, leading his friends into battle in a fight they couldn't hope to win. Would they have been able to get away if they'd ran? And did anyone get away? Clearly someone had, as the tracks Tsakua had tried to follow had led him here.
Shaking his head, he opened his mouth to speak. "Who leads yer group?" he asks to Jasmine or Maqli. "And who stands beside'em?" Deep down, a pit fills his stomach in anticipation of what the answer could be. Did Octavian survive? Or Bree, or Ishak, or Pazeek, or Toyer? Marching silently in the desert sun, Tsakua waited in anticipation for the response.
with the last few minutes concerning themselves with a death defying escape from the creature and its dark tentacles, Jasmine hadn't really had much of an opportunity to appraise the half orc standing next to her.
Taking the opportunity to do so now, she noted that he was straightforward and strong, with a shield slung around his body. All of this screamed someone skilled in close quarters combat, with a complex toward saving people, which Jasmine knew some people called "noble" but didn't really inspire her.
Checking to see if Maqli was still with them, she continued walking to the oasis where she knew the caravan would move to, but was caught slightly off guard by his question and adopts a puzzled expression.
"No-one leads our group, both of us are hunters, lone wolves, scouts. No-one really tells me what to do - I make my own decisions. So really, the answer to both your questions is basically no-one, because its a question that doesn't fit with me."
Kyarla is ready to charge, but will hold for Arion's magic. Once that is done, she is ready to attack.
To the enthralling from Qhan, most of the refugees stopped, seemingly the fight between the spells causing a struggle over dominance before most of them turned slowly and began walking back to the caravan, more pointedly towards the speaker with a sense of hurry. Only two of the initial throng of refugees kept moving towards the Lich at full speed.
The air got even hotter as Octavian released a massive fireball towards the Lich, it soaring through the air with a whistle before impacting the location. The sudden attack caught the Lich slightly off guard. The ball of fire exploded, intense heat radiating from the fireball. As it cleared, the pond below was steaming and some of the trees wilted slightly from the sudden heat. The Lich floated their still, a grim look on his face as his flesh burned. A grotesque smell filling the air.
"You dare attack me?! That is the last slight I take from you blue skinned freaks!" He pointed a finger towards Octavian at that time and grinned menacingly. A black ethereal sword materialized in his right hand before his eyes quickly shoot over to Inja when her spear throw was noticed. He'd quickly move to the left, avoiding the attacking before suddenly charging right for Inja. A disgusting finger reaching for her.
The lich was unearthly quick as he quickly swooped down and placed a hand on her shoulder. She could feel the necrotic pain flash into her flesh from his touch. Almost as if he was tugging at her soul. Soon she would feel a chill run through her body as she began to feel paralysis take hold.
”You’d make a great pawn for my uses…” he breathed, with sinister delight flaring in his gaze.
Inja freezes under the touch of the creature, only her eyes moving. A vein flutters in her neck as she strains against the unnatural power holding her, without success. Yama lets loose an agonized yowl and surges towards the lich, barreling across the path of one of the refugees. Her powerful legs propel her upwards in a huge leap and she lands with a splash in the shallows, fangs bared and growling. The lioness snaps at the lich, her teeth rending new holes in its garments.
As the ceiling collapses, Maqli throws herself forward into a roll, and Kalsak bounds alongside. When the rubble clears, both are safe at the ground, although the half-orc staggers to her feet surrounded by broken pieces of the structure. She looks curiously at the new arrival as he asks about leaders, and at Jasmine when the elf replies, but Maqli contents herself to wait until their conversation ends--and to look for the caravan in the meanwhile.
For his part, Kalsak tries to lick and paw himself clean of some of the dust and sand, a mostly fruitless endeavor. He also yowls for Maqli to remove some of the rope harness still tied about his body.
With a pulse from within, Arion stretched out her hands and touched both companions that were in range, giving them a blessing to make them rather more secure against this foe.
Bree slowly makes her way closer to where the Lich-like creature had attacked Inja. She saw Yama leap up and rake at it, and tear some of the ragged, burned clothing from its frame. She concentrated and reached for her divine spark, wishing to bring it out.
A flash of positive energy radiates out from her, washing over the undead offender. She stands, determined, watching to see how this would cause it to react.
Octavian turned Acteon away and rode a short distance. He needs people to enter the water to drain their essence and he appeared only when we came close to the oasis. Perhaps he is bound to that location and unable to affect any distance further? And he had to dodge away from my fire and it still affected him somewhat. Is he weak to any other elements? What weaknesses did that failed ceremony instill in this creature? he thought furiously to himself as he stopped Acteon. A hundred plains birthed and died in those few seconds as he turned back to the undead creature and looked at the creature critically. Just how could they take on this powerful creature?
Qahnaarin continues his lecture and slowly walks away from the oasis to draw the refugees away.
By quick study, you realize that if he was a failed creation of a Lich, it would be obvious that he would be severely restricted. A lack of noticeable phylactery was obvious… which lead to the point that the oasis actually might be the act of the phylactery. Looking at the oasis you notice the trees look a bit more yellow and the grass at the edges were beginning to die. Him being in his physical form is draining life from the oasis. You surmise that he may lack the immunities any full Lich would have. He may possibly be bound to the oasis, or more of him not having enough power to go far from it.
Refugee is dangerous close to the Lich, its obvious his next move may be to take the refugees life.
Octavian pointed at the closest refugee who was about to step into the water and screamed "STOP THEM! KILL THEM IF YOU MUST BUT STOP THEM! WE CANNOT ALLOW THIS CREATURE TO BECOME ANY MORE POWERFUL!"