Valeros hunches his back, tries to hide his face, and follows closely behind Daxter as they tail the lantern-bearing cultist.
Galio invisibly flies over and stares up at the lantern-bearing cultist's hood.
"Uh, it's a human."
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"Hmm? Oh, I am not ventriloquist. The voice is my familiar. Most people get bothered by his appearance, so he stays unseen unless I need him. Though mostly he pretty useless." At being called useless a tiny purple-skinned imp appears.
"Useless?! You're the worst death-eater I've ever encountered!"
"That is because I am not whatever a death-eater is. I don't know where you got that from. I am a business-man and a wielder of magic. Now be quiet and be unseen again." And just like that the imp disappears, but not before blowing raspberries at the Cheliaxian. "Satisfied?"
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Pallas stroked his beard in thought, "Hmm, this hellish cherub might be of some use in our infiltration. I was thinking that they might have priests capable of detecting the presence of good and evil in our group. Keeping him close by might convince them that we're not all as altruistic as we seem. I also have a magical scroll that could make one of us appear as evil, but it would require you're cohort's consent to make it work."
****
The party as the group of other aspirants are brought from the standing stone to the Talich foundary.
This large open-plan building has stone walls and a high ceiling supported by curving wooden rafters. The floor is covered in fine gray sand. A foreman’s office along the south wall has a commanding view of rows of molds; stacks of coal, wood, and metal; and the enormous gears that link the waterwheel outside to the bellows. The room is dominated by a titanic furnace, a wall of stone with a huge triangular notch that takes up the entire east wall. At the center of the triangle is a massive black door leading into the furnace body. From under the door, a trench dug into the floor lets excess molten metal flow out.
A dozen others, dressed as the lantern-bearing cultist, form a semi-circle. The lantern-bearing cultist gestures for the party to stand at the center of the semi-circle.
Quite the setup...i guess bein an evil cultist has got perks?
Valeros looks around suspiciously at the area, but keeps on Daxter's back.
Harsk remains quiet throughout the voyage. He keeps a watchful eye on the other initiates.
Cultists, what a useless lot.
Once everyone is inside, the semi-circle spreads out forming a ring and begins chanting a prayer to Thassilonian. As they do so, they hold hands and draw a series of intricate runes in the ground with their feet in an ancient, almost festive dance that writes words in an arcane script into the ground.
One cultist, a woman, raises her head and speaks loudly to the aspirants while the other cultists continue their chanting.
"“You have come to serve the goddess, but she has no need of the weak and no need of those who know not obedience. You must prove yourselves worthy, and in return you shall be granted enlightenment, power, the promise of eternal life, and the honor of serving. If you would kneel before her, then you must willingly bear her symbol of power upon your flesh. Her holiness will be your holiness, and her blessing will aid you in the tests to come. Who will wear the Sihedron and know the power of the goddess?”
When woman completes her speech, the cultists cease their chant and the circle opens on the eastern end to provide access to the trough of molten slag running from the furnace. She beckons toward one of the female aspirants to join her.
"Will you bear the mark?"
The aspirant nods fervently.
The woman draws from the trough a white-hot brand in the shape of a seven-pointed star. With this she brands the female aspirant's forearm. The process seems to cause no pain and leaves behind an intricate symbol.
Harsk watches the proceedings with some incredulity. When he is approached by the woman with the brand, he lets out a low grunt.
"Sure, why not."
One by one each aspirant recieves the mark. As the brand touches your flesh, smoke and steam fills the air but there is no heat. When the iron is taken away, a seven-pointed star scars the flesh.
“Serving Lissala is not a simple task, and one must be willing to suffer and sacrifice to attain the benefits of rule. The fire in your heart must burn brighter than this furnace. In this place metal is separated from dross and given new form. Who among you is ready to be remade in the image of the divine? To join us, to become one of the Feasters of the Heart, you must walk through the furnace. In that hellish chamber, your devotion will be your armor. So come and tell me: whom do you serve above all others? At whose command would you walk through flame?”
Valeros knows he's one of the toughest members of the group, and if his fortitude is being tested...well, that wasn't acceptable!
Valeros whispers to his companions, "I will volunteer to go first, to make sure it is safe for the rest of you"
Even if bodyguard is his role, that's still essentially why he's there in reality.
"I will go at my Master's command." Valeros says in an exaggeratedly dumb voice.
”So be it”, the woman says as she opens the door to the furnace and ushers Valeros inside.
About half a minute later, the doors open again revealing that Valeros is gone.
”Who is next?”
"Ow."
Valeros drinks a potion of serious wounds to relieve his burns, and then looks around at his new surroundings.
Harsk waits, getting a brand is one thing, but stepping into a furnace is something else entirely.
Did I hear Valeros scream? Hmm, Pallas looks like he's volunteering to go next. I'm not sure about this...
Pallas steps into the furnace...
When the doors open, the keleshite man is gone.
The woman nods and says, "The goddess knows her own", as Amira enters the furnace.
When the door opens, Amira is gone.
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I'm guessing we'll get to where I'm at when everyone goes through, or something? Also, HA, that perception was for runes/writing which meant I'd've had +2 more to that Perception (not that it actually mattered.)
Harsk still has doubts, but replies, "Aye, I follow the master," when he is approached.
”So be it”, the woman says once again as she opens the furnace door.
Inside the furnace, the heat is unbearable.
After about half a minute in the furnace, a trap door opens on the bottom of the furnace allowing you exit from the furnace and entrance down into a hidden cellar. One by one, each of you descend. It appears Daxter is the only one that wasn't terribly burned. After Harsk the other aspirants also descend.
The cellar is a twenty-foot-square room with two exits in the northeast corner. It is empty save for two large barrels in the southwest corner.
Another woman in a black robe, also with the hood pulled forward, is waiting for you but she does not speak until all the aspirants have descended.
“You have shown yourselves to be worthy of what you are about to receive. You have been asked to wear the rune of the goddess on your flesh, and have put yourselves in mortal danger to obey the command of Lissala. The furnace has burned away your old life. Your fears, your weaknesses—those things are gone now. In the furnace, Lissala saw the strength of your dedication, and she was pleased. But now she must see the force of your will. You must decide among yourselves who is the most worthy of the goddess’s honor, and who’s the least. The most worthy will receive power beyond imagining. What happens to the weakest should be none of your concern. There are no rules save this: You have five minutes. In five minutes, you must present the greatest and the weakest
among you, or you will all return to the furnace. And this time it will not be so kind.”
To his companions, Valeros whispers again. "Listen, you guys, we need to keep the more valuable folks around. Pallas is much more so than I, and I believe that I can take whatever punishment that they have for me. Daxter is "most worthy", but allow me to be the least worthy."
If there is agreement, Valeros steps forward bravely. "I am the weakest one here. My companions are well off without me."
Harsk watches all of the proceedings. Pallas, or Valeros? Maybe I'm the most unworthy? But he feels a little weak from the furnace and decides to hold his tongue.
"Congratulations", one of the female cultists says. "The final stage of your initiation is about to begin. Soon, you too will feast upon the heart."
One of the cultists produces several heavy black cloth bags.
The cultists begin slipping them over people's heads.